Stuart MacBride - Close to the Bone

‘Mr Mowat has left provision in his will for my firm to represent you.’ The lawyer stood. ‘Now, I really must return to Mr Harris.’

Logan stared up at him. ‘How am I supposed to-’

‘You can see yourself out.’

The sun burns like a glowing cigarette end pressed into pale skin. Rowan closes the bathroom window and leans on the sink, head down, blood-red hair hanging like a curtain in front of her face. Don’t be sick. She’s stronger than that. She did what had to be done.

‘The Kirk. .’ The words stick in her throat. She takes a deep breath and forces them out. ‘The Kirk is my mother and father. It is my rod and my staff. My shield and my sword. What I. .’ She closes her eyes. ‘What I do in its service lights. . lights a fire in God’s name.’

Don’t be sick.

‘Lights a fire in God’s name, lights a fire in God’s name, lights a fire in God’s name. .’

The churning fizz inside her settles, leaving a hollow shell behind. Like a chrysalis after the moth has gone. Empty and brittle.

Her black leather gloves leave scarlet smudges on the porcelain.

Tenet Three: ‘Leave nothing of thyself behind: lest thine enemies use it against thee.’ Rowan turns the hot tap on and lets it run until it steams, then washes her hands. The water runs pink, soaking through the gloves’ stitching, leaving the leather shiny like fresh liver.

‘What I do in its service lights a fire in God’s name.’

She pulls a towel from the rail by the door and wipes the sink clean.

There. That’s better, isn’t it?

Did what needed to be done.

She raises her head and looks at the woman in the mirror. Empty and brittle. Tendrils of dark red and black make wings across her shoulders, jagged with barbs and thorns and claws.

She bares her teeth. ‘What I do in its service lights a fire in god’s name!’ Spittle flecks the mirror.

And slowly the red fades to pale blue, then gold.

A little smile pulls at the corner of her lips.

All better.

‘. .or not? Guv? ’

Logan blinked.

‘Guv!’ Sitting in the visitor’s chair, Rennie crossed his arms and stuck his bottom lip out. ‘Least you could do is pretend to be interested.’

Logan frowned, then checked his watch. ‘What are you doing in here anyway? Not even half-seven yet.’

Rennie screwed his face up. ‘Aaaaaargh! I just told you. I’m in because bloody DS bloody Chalmers phoned me — while I was in bloody bed, by the way — wanting to know where all the hate crime files were. And-’

‘Did you tell her? ’

‘Yes, but-’

‘Then what’s the problem? ’

‘What’s the. .’ Rennie screamed at the ceiling again. ‘Why did you tell her to check up on me? We used to be a team . But now it’s all: Chalmers this, and Chalmers that.’

‘Oh for God’s sake.’ Logan moved onto the next budget requisition form: DI Bell wanting DNA analysis for a series of housebreakings. It went on the ‘possibly’ pile along with a request to set up a surveillance operation in Blackburn, looking for a cannabis farm, and one for a forensic archaeologist to consult on what might or might not be a body deposition site outside Fraserburgh.

‘What, I’m not good enough for you any more? I used to be the Robin to your Batman. The Rodney to your Del Boy. The Branston Pickle to your cheese on toast!’

Silence.

Logan stared at him. ‘Seriously? ’

‘The hate crimes aren’t Chalmers’s, they’re mine!’

‘The Robin to my Batman ? ’

He shrugged one shoulder. ‘I couldn’t get back to sleep. Just lay there thinking about all the ways you were screwing me over with this bloody Chalmers woman.’

‘No, but seriously: Robin? ’

‘It’s not fair .’

Logan shook his head. ‘I hate to disappoint you, Rennie, but we’re not a gay couple, OK? And I’m not screwing you over with Chalmers.’

The other shoulder came up, making him look like a grumpy teenager. ‘Well. . that’s how it feels.’

Logan sat back, drummed his fingers on the desktop. ‘Tell you what, find me some bloody suspects and you can be the favourite again. And while we’re at it: what’s happening with your shoplifting tramps? ’

‘It’s. .’ He wriggled in his seat. ‘It’s not as easy as you’d-’

The door clunked open and Steel stood there, one hand hauling up her trousers, the other plucking the electronic cigarette from her mouth. She narrowed her eyes, making everything all wrinkly. ‘What are you pair of dinks doing here? ’

Logan pointed across the desk. ‘Poor wee Rennie’s feeling all unloved and unappreciated. So he’s come in early to moan about it.’

‘Oh aye, and what’s your excuse? ’

‘Doing your paperwork.’

She smiled, both arms extended as if she was waiting to be crucified. ‘Then all is forgiven. Now grab your coat — we’re going out.’

Logan stood. ‘Another body? ’

Steel frowned. ‘No: pub. Why does it always have to be work, work, work with you? ’ She slapped Rennie on the back of the head. ‘Arse in gear, Stinky, you’ve got tramps to find.’

Rennie grumbled his way out of the chair, then out of Logan’s office.

She waited till he’d shut the door behind him. Then collapsed into the vacant chair. ‘We’re screwed.’

‘What’s wrong this time? Did. .’ Logan sat down again. ‘Hold on, if you thought I wasn’t here, why did you barge in? ’

She dug a hand down her cleavage and went rummaging. ‘You were here.’

‘Yeah, but you didn’t know that.’

Rummage, rummage. ‘My underwire’s killing us. I keep telling Susan, you’ve no’ to put them in the washing machine, but will she listen? ’

‘Answer the question.’

‘We’re getting a visit tomorrow from the National Police Improvement Authority. Apparently our necklacing case is going nowhere. Boardroom, half two in the afternoon, attendance is mandatory.’

Just what they needed. ‘Who they sending? ’

‘Who do you think: a bunch of cockshites from Strathclyde up to point out the sodding obvious and tell us how to do our jobs.’ She gave her cleavage one last dig, then puckered her lips around the fake cigarette, sending a little puff of steam up into the room. ‘Well, I’m no’ giving up that easy. Tell everyone I want their arses in the briefing room at quarter to eight sharp. And I mean everyone . This case isn’t turning into a runner, understand? I want its bloody legs hacked off before our Weegie visitors get here. I want it like Stumpy McStumperton, so we can tell them to turn round and sod off back from whence they sodding came.’

Yeah. . that was going to happen.

Logan looked up at the door. ‘So come on then, why did you barge in here? ’

Steel sniffed. ‘Sometimes, when you’re all out, I like to rummage through your desks and see what lies you’re hiding from me.’

Good job he still had the form about being an executor for Wee Hamish Mowat and the dirty big cheque in his pocket then.

Steel pulled a face. ‘God’s knickers, the place is hoaching .’

O’Donoghues was a barn of a place off Justice Mill Lane, the walls painted a mucal shade of shamrock green. As if all the Guinness and Beamish memorabilia wasn’t enough of a giveaway. The crowd was three deep at the bar, the tables around the outside already taken.

An all-girl six-piece band crowded the stage: electric guitar, bass, fiddle, drums, accordion, and a lead singer belting out the Stereophonics’s ‘Have a Nice Day’. They were good. Good, but loud .

Logan frowned around him. ‘Could we not go somewhere quieter? ’