Stuart MacBride - Dark Blood

The man pointed at something glittering away beneath the counter’s glass surface, and the shop assistant nodded. She undid some sort of catch, then opened the back of the display, pulling out a black velvet tray. There was no audio, everything happening in complete silence.

Outside the shop window a bus juddered past. The time stamp in the corner of the screen read ‘09:14’.

‘…bloody solicitors crawling up my…’

The assistant held up one of the items from the tray.

The man in the flat cap nodded, then reached into his long black overcoat.

PC Butler smiled. ‘See, told you.’

The sledgehammer was about half the length it should have been, but that didn’t stop it shattering the glass counter top into a million glittering fragments. Another swing and the cash register went flying. Another, and a display case exploded. A silent ballet of destruction.

‘…should know better by now! Honestly, you’re no’ a child so stop acting…’

The woman in the corner scurried back against the wall, hauling her little boy with her. Mouth open. Screaming.

‘… your own. That what you want?’

The man hoisted the sledgehammer over his head and brought it crashing down, double handed, into the counter again. The flat cap went flying, exposing a swath of bald head hiding beneath a thin comb-over.

‘… but no, you have to play the bloody idiot …’

A scramble of black gloves through the wreckage, stuffing rings and bracelets and necklaces and bits of broken glass into his pockets, then the flat cap was snatched up and rammed down on the balding head again. Not once had he looked at the camera.

The man backed away through the open door, pulling the stroller with him, and-

Logan sat forward and poked the screen. ‘There: the cuddly rabbit.’

The little kid in the stroller must have lost its grip, because the rabbit went tumbling to the glass-strewn shop floor. Bounced once. Then lay there.

‘The kid was sooking on it, we’ll be able to get DNA from the saliva.’

Butler stared at him. ‘The kid didn’t rob the shop, it was-’

‘You don’t hold up a jewellers with someone else’s kid, do you? What sort of crappy babysitter would that be? It’s his. Or maybe a grandchild, but it’s definitely related. We’ll get a familial DNA match.’ Logan sat back in his seat, pleased with himself. ‘Get round there and pick up…’

He drifted to a halt, then swore as a hand reached back into the shop from outside and grabbed the fallen bunny. Then kicked away whatever had been keeping the door ajar, allowing it to finally clunk shut.

So much for that.

And then Logan realized Steel had stopped ranting in his ear. ‘Inspector?’ Silence. ‘Hello?’ He looked at the phone’s display. She’d hung up.

Couldn’t have been that important then.

Logan sat back in his seat, tapping the mobile against his chin. ‘There’s something not right about this.’

He told Butler to wind the tape back to the start, then sat and watched everything unfold again. ‘See, he blocks the door from closing, so he obviously knows the first thing jewellery shops do is trip the silent alarm. Bang, all the exits lock till the police turn up. But when he does the smash and grab, he goes for sparkly, worthless crap…’

PC Butler shrugged. ‘Maybe he watches too much telly? CSI, The Bill, that kind of thing?’

‘Could be. Get the shop assistant in front of an e-fit artist, maybe we can-’

BANG. The viewing room door flew open, and there she was: DI Steel, face flushed, teeth gritted. ‘You!’ She threw a finger in Logan’s direction. ‘Where the bloody hell do you think you’ve been?’

Butler shrank in her seat, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

Logan opened his mouth, but Steel wasn’t finished yet.

‘Interview room three, now.’

‘But-’

‘NOW!’

‘The treatment of my client has been appalling!’ The little man shifted in his seat and poked the tabletop with a finger. ‘It’s an absolute outrage !’

Sitting next to him, Douglas Walker was a mass of bruises and misery. He cleared his throat, but the lawyer placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s all right, Mr Walker, I’ll deal with this.’ The little man glared at Logan, the strip light shining back off his little round glasses and bald head. ‘You held my client for hours, without any sort of formal charge, then you forced him to submit to interview without legal representation!’

Logan stared at him in silence for a while. Jumped-up baldy little git. All squint teeth and Armani suit. DI Steel was slouched against the side wall, scowling, playing the disapproving senior officer. Making sure he didn’t duck out of being shouted at by Douglas Walker’s brief.

‘Well?’ The lawyer poked the table again. ‘We demand an immediate apology and an independent investigation into your-’

‘You’ve not done a lot of criminal work, have you, Mr…?’

The little man flushed, pulled out a business card and slapped it down in front of Logan. ‘Barrett. Of McGilvery, Barrett, and McGilvery. And I suggest-’

‘What are you: friend of the family? I bet you normally do conveyancing, don’t you? Maybe a few wills every now and then to keep your hand in. But mostly it’s the legal side of buying and selling properties, right?’

‘What does that-’

‘So basically, you’re just a glorified estate agent.’

‘How dare-’

‘You see, if you knew anything about criminal law, you’d know we can question your client as often as we like and we don’t need a lawyer present. Look it up.’

Barrett of McGilvery, Barrett, and McGilvery was going an unnatural shade of deep pink. Spittle flying from his mouth, ‘You held my client for seven hours without charge, in direct breach-’

‘Your client came in voluntarily. Didn’t you, Douglas?’

The lawyer gripped his client’s shoulder again. ‘You don’t have to answer that, we’ve only got his word-’

Logan dropped his notebook on top of the little man’s business card. ‘Your client signed a declaration that he was happy to help us with our enquiries.’

‘You…’ Barrett looked from Logan to the young man sitting next to him, then back again. ‘You conducted an illegal search of-’

‘Your client volunteered the location of a holdall full of counterfeit money in his bedroom. And even if he hadn’t the arrest warrant gave me the legal right to search the premises for anything relating to the offence he’d been charged with.’

Silence.

The lawyer took a deep breath. ‘My client is only eighteen, his parents have a right to be-’

‘He’s old enough to be tried as an adult. And you’re old enough to know better.’ Logan stood, staring down at the little man with his little round glasses and little triple-barrelled business card. ‘Right now Douglas is looking at a ten stretch. Craiginches only holds people serving a maximum of four years, so he’s going to be doing his time somewhere exotic. Like Barlinnie, or Shotts.’

A sinister lurching warble cut through the silence — Logan pulled out his phone and cut off the ‘Danse Macabre’ mid-Wurlitzer. ‘McRae.’

Barrett spluttered. ‘This is outrageous, we’re supposed to be-’

Logan silenced him with a hand. ‘Sorry, Gary, there’s an idiot here shouting his mouth off.’

‘How dare you!’

‘I said, there’s a wee Weegie constable down here for you, with a really big dog. Do me a favour and come get her before it squats one out on my floor.’

‘Be right down.’ Logan snapped the phone shut.