Stuart MacBride - Close to the Bone

Logan settled into a seat a couple down from the director. ‘So she tried to break in? ’

‘Not to begin with, no.’ A shudder set his jowls wobbling. ‘She was so sweet at the beginning: wanted to study film at Glasgow University, was a huge fan of the books, could we give her a job as a runner so she could get some industry experience? ’

‘According to her dad, she was going to Aberdeen Uni to do accountancy.’

‘She was OK at the start — did what she was told, always showed up on time, and her knowledge of the books was just. . encyclopaedic. Every time the writer had a problem she’d be right there, polishing his ego and keeping him happy. Even came up with some great local PR exercises: competitions in the papers, cast and crew helping out at a soup kitchen, guided tours of the set for some primary school, dramatizing a real witchcraft trial from the fifteen-hundreds. .’ Zander sighed. ‘Then everything changed: she started arguing with the designers and the chippies and the painters about the sets not being exactly like the book. Then she had a go at the script team for making changes to the story and the dialogue — as if it’d even be possible to do the book line-for-line on the screen.’

DCI Steel slumped into the row of seats in front of Logan, clutching a wax-paper cup in one hand and a Danish pastry in the other. ‘Can’t believe there’s no shagging. .’

‘Every time she did it I’d sit her down, and we’d have a talk, and she’d apologize and promise she’d do better, and beg for another chance. And like the big softy I am, I’d agree.’

‘Have you no’ got any archive footage or something we could look at? You know, for old time’s sake? ’

‘But in the end, she was haranguing the actors about how they were interpreting the characters, or speaking their lines, and I had to ask her to leave.’

Steel peeled the plastic lid off her cup and dark bitter tendrils of coffee coiled out into the cinema. ‘Doesn’t even have to be that hardcore, just a bit of girl-on-girl slippery. . What? ’

Logan glared at her. ‘Could you give your libido a rest for five minutes? You can download some porn when you get home, OK? ’

‘Anyway, after we asked her to leave she started hanging about outside the studio, following people home, making a nuisance of herself. She snuck in a couple of times and had to be evicted. Then she did it in the dead of night and sprayed “thieves and liars” all over the Assembly set, slashed up some of the costumes too.’

Steel’s face curdled, arms folded beneath her boobs. ‘Was only asking.’

‘We’re not even doing the Thieves And Liars scene: it’s a huge book, we had to get rid of something. So I made a formal complaint.’ He brought his chin up, bringing a big swell of neck with it. ‘I know it was mean of me, but this is a multi-million pound production, I can’t have some hormonal teenager sabotaging it.’

‘Zander? ’ A tall gaunt man with hollow eyes and a tight-fitting polo shirt stood in the aisle a couple of rows down. The projector’s light glittered back from his shiny bald head, as if he’d been polishing it. His voice had the deep rumble of grinding icebergs, and as he spoke the saggy skin around his chin and neck rippled. As if he’d once been a lot bigger, but someone had let all the air out. ‘Do you have a minute to look at the cut for one-twenty-nine? ’

Zander took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘David: I was just telling them about Agnes Garfield.’

The gaunt man grimaced. ‘We should’ve pressed charges. People like that don’t deserve. .’ He frowned at the back of Steel’s head, then stood and stared at Logan. ‘Anyway, one-twenty-nine.’

He turned and walked back to the front of the room, fiddled with a remote control, and the screen filled with black. Then a bleep. Then a dramatic shot of a woman in Grim-Reaper cloak, rich with black embroidery, on over a red leather jumpsuit. She threw the hood back. Bright scarlet hair tumbled about her face, teeth bared. . It was the other actress — the one who’d been on the TV with Nichole Fyfe, making naughty with the camera.

What was her name, Mary? Maureen? No: Morgan .

There was something. . not right about her slate-green eyes, something dangerous and unhinged.

Zander patted Logan on the arm and pointed at the screen. ‘She’s magnificent, isn’t she? Terrific actress.’

The camera pulled out. Morgan was standing over someone kneeling on the ground, hands behind his back, a tyre wedged over his chest, head and one arm forced through the hole in the middle.

‘ Thomas Leis, you have been found guilty of witchcraft- ’

Logan stood, the seat clacking back upright. ‘You’re necklacing him? ’

‘ I’m not a witch, it’s a mistake!’ Tears and snot glistened on his face, eyes wide, mouth twisted.

‘ -condemned to burn at the stake until you be dead. ’

Zander sat forward, squinting at the screen. ‘Shh. .’

‘ I didn’t do anything! ’

‘ Coward .’ She pulled out a book of matches — close up on her hands as she struck one, then twisted the book so they all caught fire — then a low angle, looking up past the terrified man at her standing there.

‘ PLEASE! ’

‘We found a dead body, Saturday evening,’ Logan pointed at the screen, ‘just like that! Exactly like that.’

‘ Burn. Like you’ll burn in hell .’ A vicious smile. ‘ It’ll be good practice for you .’ The blazing matchbook tumbled through the air, hit the tyre, and blue and yellow flames leapt up, cracking around the rim of the rubber.

The man on his knees screamed, wrenching himself from side to side, making the chains rattle. Close up on his face, wreathed in black smoke. .

Zander waved a hand. ‘Can you pause it there, David? ’

On the screen, the burning man lurched to a complete halt, mouth open in a wide scream.

Standing at the front of the room, cadaverous David pulled out a laser pointer and ran a bright red dot around the man’s face. ‘Do you see it? ’

‘Yes, compositing really needs to be tighter. And can we lose the snot? It’s just a bit. .’ He wiggled his fingers. ‘Too mucusy.’

Logan settled back into his seat. ‘It’s exactly the same set-up: kneeling, chained to a stake, tyre over his head and under his left arm.’

Zander frowned, pulling his chin in, making ripples across his wobbly throat. ‘The necklacing of Thomas Leis is a key scene. We’re being very faithful to the book here — the fans would have a fit if we changed it.’

‘It’s in the book? ’

‘ Pivotal to our understanding of Mrs Shepherd’s character.’

Steel squinted down towards the front of the room.

The big gaunt man had produced a small plastic bag of something. He pulled what looked like a child’s finger from the bag and popped it into his mouth. Crunching.

Her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘David. .? ’ Then she stood. ‘Holy crap in a handbag, it’s no’, is it? David Insch ? ’ She cupped her hands around her mouth. ‘HOY, INSCHY? THAT YOU? ’

She was off her head. There was no way that was ex-DI Insch. Insch was the size of a barn: a six-foot-two perpetual-motion eating machine with anger-management issues.

David hauled his shoulders back, chest out, chin up — pulling a dangly fold of skin with it. ‘Detective Inspector Steel.’

There was no mistaking that withering, disappointed tone.

‘It is you! The boy Insch, as I live and fornicate. .’ Her mouth hung open in a lopsided grin. ‘What the hell happened? You look like someone’s draped a deflated bouncy castle over a stepladder.’