Stuart MacBride - Close to the Bone

Logan shifted his shoulders. ‘I said it might be him.’

DI Bell scratched at a scab on one hairy forearm. ‘Back in the real world: we need to do a victimology profile. Look into Fusty Forman’s last-known whereabouts, question his drinking buddies, see if they saw him fighting with anyone.’

Leith sniffed. ‘Be realistic, Ding-Dong, the review starts at two, we’re never going to get something by then.’

‘Well, let’s have your genius idea then.’

‘We don’t even know it really is Fusty Forman, do we? Just because some clay-head thing looks a bit-’

‘Oh come on, of course it’s him. Who the hell else-’

‘You’re dreaming, Ding-Dong, if it was him, they’d have got a hit off the database when they did the DNA, wouldn’t they? ’

‘Bloody lab couldn’t even tell the victim’s DNA from the kid that stabbed him. Ever since the re-org-’

‘What happened to eliminative detection? Don’t be a bell-end, it’s not-’

‘Hoy!’ DI Bell jumped to his feet, towering over Leith, fists curled into great hairy hammers. ‘Who are you calling Bell-End, you cock-faced weaselly little-’

Steel stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew. A high-pitched whistle screeched out into the room. ‘Enough! Biohazard: get onto the labs and poke them in the arse till they do another DNA match. Fresh samples, no’ the complete and utter cock-up we got last time.’

Bob nodded. ‘Yes, Guv.’

‘Next, we get. .’ A sigh. ‘Ding-Dong, sit your arse down. Leith: apologize.’

Leith chewed on the inside of his mouth, looked away, sniffed. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean anything personal. Was just an expression.’

DI Bell didn’t move for a moment, then licked his lips and sank back into the visitor’s seat.

Steel stared at the pair of them. ‘Like being a sodding primary school teacher. .’

Bell picked at his scab again. ‘He started it.’

‘ As I was saying : next, we get teams going round every homeless person, tramp, junkie, alky, and beggar on the streets. Try the drop-in centres, hostels, clinics, and hospital. Flash Fusty’s mugshot and see if we can get some witnesses.’

Logan pointed at the ‘HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN? ’ posters sitting on Steel’s desk. ‘You need to show them Agnes Garfield’s face as well.’

‘Fine, if it’ll shut you up. See if anyone’s seen the mental witch woman. Leith, you and Ding-Dong-’

‘Aya, watch it!’ Biohazard Bob lurched forward a step as the door thumped into his back. He turned and wrenched it all the way open. ‘You looking for a fat lip? ’

Rennie stood in the doorway, wearing a green bomber jacket, jeans, and a T-shirt with a rock n’ roll tyrannosaurus printed across the front. ‘Sorry.’

Steel took another puff on her fake cigarette. ‘Detective Sergeant, how kind of you to take time out of your busy social whirlwind to grace us with your presence.’

Rennie shrugged. ‘Came soon as I heard. And I’m not supposed to be on till ten tonight, OK? I was asleep.’

‘Could at least have run a comb through your hair: you look like a burst cushion.’

Which was a bit rich, given the exploding wasps’ nest on top of her own head.

‘It was my case, and-’

‘Don’t care. You were supposed to find the poor sod before he wound up dead. I gave you the simple job of tracking down three tramps, and now two of them are in body-bags. You’re like the sodding Angel of Death.’

‘How’s that fair, it’s-’

‘Think you can do us a favour and find the last one while he’s still alive? ’ She pulled a stack of forms from her pending-tray, then flapped a hand towards the open door. ‘Go on, shoo, the lot of you, find me someone who saw what happened to Fusty Forman.’

They shuffled towards the door, Rennie leading the way with shoulders slumped.

Steel’s voice cut through the mumbling. ‘DI McRae, where do you think you’re going? Not finished with you yet.’

Steel stared up at him, face expressionless as a dead fish. ‘Well? ’

Logan collapsed into the vacated visitor’s chair. Still warm. ‘Well what? ’

‘You know fine well what.’

Silence.

‘OK, so I was wrong. Are you happy? ’

‘Sodding ecstatic.’ She stuck her feet up on the desk.

Logan counted the points off on his fingers: ‘Robbie Whyte had form; he was connected to the film through Nichole Fyfe; he was off his head; he used to dump stolen cars at the Joyriders’ Graveyard. And he killed his own dog. What was I supposed to think? ’

‘Oh, I don’t know. . how about: did he actually kill anyone? ’

‘I’ve got the uniforms stationed at the hospital checking with the nurses on the oncology ward, and going over the security-camera footage. Maybe he left his dying mum’s bedside for long enough to necklace Roy Forman and torture whoever the Kintore victim is? ’

‘Aye, and maybe my bumhole squirts rainbows and pixie dust.’

Logan scowled at her. ‘You know, you’re getting more like Finnie every day. The sarcastic motivational speeches, the fishing for info, the rummaging through people’s desks. .’

Steel’s eyes bugged. ‘You take that back: I’m nothing like that frog-faced, rubbery-lipped goat-molester!’

‘Look at Rennie. He’s doing his best, and you’re. . what, trying to make him cry? You’re supposed to mentor-’

‘I’m way nicer than-’

‘He’s talking about resigning. That what you want? ’

‘Pfff. .’ She had a dig at her underwire, making the wrinkly cleavage wriggle and jiggle. ‘I’m doing him a favour. Either he can handle the pressure, or he can’t. Better to find out now — while someone else can still fix it for him — instead of later when some poor sod ends up dead ’cos Rennie’s no’ up to the job.’ Another dig, then she gave up on her bra and tilted her head back, looking down her nose at Logan. ‘Besides, never did you any harm, did it? ’

‘Yeah,’ keeping his voice flat and level, ‘you’re such a saint.’

‘You looking for a clip round the lug? ’ She took a long draw on her electronic cigarette. Narrowed her eyes. ‘And how come you’ve done nothing about that deid body on your roof yet? ’

‘Not my case; you gave it to Ding-Dong.’

‘That’s no excuse! Have some pride in your caravan park, man. Your roof, your skeleton, your responsibility.’

‘So approve the facial reconstruction. Worked for Roy Forman, didn’t it? ’

She squirmed in her seat. ‘You got any idea what they’re doing to the CID budget, it’s-’

‘Then don’t come moaning to me when we can’t make any progress. You want a result? Fund the investigation properly.’

A scowl. ‘See: you and the boy Rennie moan and whine at me all the time, but you’re no’ the ones stuck in here with the ACC breathing down your neck like a creepy uncle. .’ She poked the desk with a yellowed finger. ‘And another thing: how come your mother keeps calling about taking Jasmine away to Sodding Euro Sodding Disney? I told you to have a word.’

‘If you don’t give Rennie a break, I’m going to give her your mobile number.’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘And then I’m going to tell her how you’ve always wanted to join the WRI, and can she put in a good word for you? ’

‘If you think-’

‘And then , I’m going to show her how to stalk you on Facebook.’

Steel glowered at him, the little red LED in the tip of her fake cigarette flickering angry Morse code. ‘ Fine : I’ll be nicer to Rennie.’

He stood. Yawned. ‘Anything else? ’