G. Moffat - Blindside

‘This is probably just my CID brain working overtime, but did you explore the angle that these deaths might not have been random?’

Armstrong leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. ‘You mean, like, could these people actually have been targets rather than having the bad luck to buy some bad gear?’

‘It’s just a thought.’

He scratched his face.

‘I appreciate you guys are going to come at this from the perspective of the drugs,’ Irvine said. ‘Looking for dealers or suppliers or whatever. But maybe there’s another angle, you know. Maybe it’s about who the victims are.’

‘That would make it a serial killer?’

Irvine raised her eyebrows. ‘Yes it would.’

‘You start throwing those two words around and it’s going to take this thing on to a whole ’nother level. I mean, Warren wouldn’t like it.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, for starters, the case would be pulled from him. CID would take over. He likes nothing more than breaking a big case. Helps him when he goes to get budget increases for us. And he’d look like an idiot for not making the connection before. Four deaths is a lot to explain away.’

‘I suppose…’

Irvine flipped through the files, checking the locations of the deaths and anything else that might link them. They were all within a five-mile radius, but that didn’t mean much. Glasgow wasn’t a big city, really. And drugs were prevalent in the deprived council estates, many of them bounding one another. So there was nothing unusual about them being that close.

Armstrong watched her in silence, content to let her work through it on her own.

So far as Irvine could tell, there didn’t seem to be a family connection between any of the victims and none of them were reputed to have any gang affiliations.

Two men: thirty-one and twenty-three.

One woman: twenty-four.

And the girl this morning — Joanna. Irvine couldn’t think of her as a woman.

So young.

Irvine closed the files and stifled a yawn.

‘You should head home,’ Armstrong told her. ‘You’ve done well to get up to speed on all of this in one day. There’s plenty more to do tomorrow.’

‘I want to be ready for it.’

‘You are. What else is there for you to do today?’

‘Just feels like we should do something, you know?’

‘Listen, we’re both exhausted. Can’t work at your best like that. And I thought that maybe you’d like to go home.’

‘I do. It’s just…’

‘What?’

How much to tell this guy?

‘I got divorced not long ago,’ she said. ‘Last year. And I went through… some other stuff. A friend of mine got killed.’

Armstrong frowned.

‘It was a difficult time and I didn’t work much. The boss was good about it, you know.’

‘And now you want to make up for lost time. Is that it?’

‘Maybe. I just know that since I came back I’ve been dealing with the usual crap this city throws up on a daily basis. Robberies and fights and everything else. And the one murder on my desk is at a dead end.’

‘Hey, I get it,’ Armstrong said. ‘We all feel like that sometimes. But you’re tired. Go get some rest and we can start again tomorrow.’

Irvine sighed.

‘You’re right,’ she said, not looking at him.

‘Plus, a good sleep, a shower and a shave and I’ll be brand new.’

He jutted his chin out.

‘I need to make a call first,’ Irvine said.

She stacked the case files on top of one another and Armstrong walked out into the hall to give her some privacy.

Irvine called Logan. She told him that she’d be late and could he pick Connor up from the childminder. He said sure.

‘That your husband?’ Armstrong asked, coming back in from the hall.

‘No.’

‘But you have a kid?’

Irvine didn’t feel like having a getting-to-know-you conversation right now. Not after what she’d seen today.

‘No offence, Kenny. But can we save this till later?’

He tilted his head as he looked at her and nodded. ‘Sure.’

‘It’s not you.’

‘Don’t sweat it.’

Armstrong pulled his jacket on. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a lift,’ he said.

Irvine looked at the new files on her desk.

Four more deaths. It seemed never ending.

Logan was waiting for Irvine at his flat, leaning on the door frame. Irvine smiled and gratefully walked into his embrace, breathing deeply of his scent. She heard Ellie playing the piano somewhere inside.

They went into the hall together, Logan asking how her day had been.

‘Depressing and exhilarating in about equal measures.’

She followed Logan into the living room.

‘Ellie,’ he shouted, turning back to the hall. ‘Finish up for tonight, okay?’

The piano tinkled for another few seconds and stopped.

Irvine went into the room and saw Connor asleep on the couch, his hair mussed and his top pulled halfway up his back. The TV was on with the sound turned down low.

‘How was he?’ she asked.

‘Good as always. He followed Ellie around like a pet dog. I think she secretly enjoys the attention.’

She leaned down and smoothed Connor’s hair back off his forehead, kissed him gently there. One of his hands came up, fluttering where she had kissed him. Irvine felt a wave of emotion hit her and swallowed it down.

Logan was watching her from the window, leaning back against the sill.

‘You want to get home?’ he asked.

Irvine felt tired, but wanted to get to her place after spending the whole weekend here. As much as she loved being with Logan, she wasn’t ready to live with a man again. Not yet.

She nodded at him and sat beside Connor, resting a hand on his leg.

‘Tough day?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. Not only do I have an unsolved murder on my desk, but I got co-opted into a drug operation. Pulled a teenager out of the river today.’

He reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

‘How was your day?’ she asked.

He told her about the plane crash and that Cahill was making noises about going over to America to kick up a fuss.

‘Sounds like Alex.’ She smiled.

Cahill was growing on her. Slowly.

Ellie came into the room and stood by the door. Irvine smiled at her and got a smile in return. Their relationship was still a little tentative so Irvine tried to give her space, let her breathe.

‘You’re getting good,’ she said to Ellie. ‘I mean, with the piano.’

‘My teacher says I should think about drama school or something. I don’t know.’

‘Well, sounds good to me.’

Logan glanced at the guitar on a stand under the window. He didn’t get so much time to play it any more.

They drove to Irvine’s house and Logan carried Connor inside while Ellie waited in the car. When Connor was in bed, Logan hugged Irvine and said see you soon. Kissed goodnight.

After soaking in a hot bath, Irvine poured herself a glass of red wine and lay on the couch in her living room flipping through her notes from today. She couldn’t see any connection between the four victims and felt a little foolish for having mentioned it even as a possibility to Armstrong.

Her eyes got heavy and so she turned off the lights and went to bed. As she lay there, she turned on her side and rested a hand on the space beside her, hoping to feel the warmth that Logan left there when they were together. There was nothing but cold.

Cahill sat in his study at midnight going through e-mails on a laptop but not seeing them. He gave up and closed the machine, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head.

His wife Sam came in and sat on the couch.

‘You’re not doing anyone any good right now, Alex. I mean, you look like you need a good sleep.’