Dying light

Eventually the door banged open and Steel marched in, threw herself into her chair and scowled at the specials board.

'So whit's this all about?' asked Miller as they waited for their sea bass in crayfish butter.

'You know fine what it's about,' said Steel, turning her scowl on him instead. 'You had breakfast with some wee shite-bag from Edinburgh last week. I want to know who he is. And I want to know right bloody now!'

Miller raised an eyebrow and took a contemplative sip of his Sauvignon Blanc, eyeing up DI Steel over the top of his glass, taking in the saggy neck, pointed features, wrinkles, escaped-loony hair, and nicotine-stained teeth. 'Jesus, Laz,' he said at last, 'I think your mum's coming on to me.'

Logan tried not to smile. 'We think your "corporate investment facilitator" assaulted someone in hospital yesterday, maybe even forced him to accept drugs for resale.'

Miller groaned and took another swig of his wine, draining half the glass. 'I don't know anythin', OK?' He pushed his chair; out and stood. 'I'll get a taxi back taste the paper-'

Logan grabbed his arm. 'Look, we're not going to involve you, OK? We just need a bit of info. Far as anyone else is concerned, you didn't tell us anything.'

'Aye, damn right I didn't.' The reporter cast a significant glance at DI Steel. 'And I'm not goin' taste either.'

The inspector scowled. 'Listen up, you soap-dodging Weegie bastard: if you like I can drag you into the station and force you to make a statement. Understand?'

'Oh aye? And how the hell do you think you're goin' taste do that, Grandma? I don't have to tell you shite if I don't want to. You want to go get a court order, you get off your wrinkly, stinky old arse and get one.'

Steel was up on her feet, leaning over the table, teeth bared. 'Who the fuck do you think you are?'

The?' Miller smacked himself in the chest with a fist. 'I'm the free-fuckin'-press, that's who I am. Want to see your haggard old face splashed all over the paper? I'll screw your career over in a fuckin' heartbeat!'

That was all Logan needed – if Steel got pilloried in the P amp;J, Napier's sage-and-onion threat would stuff Logan out of a job. 'Inspector,' he said, placing a hand over her trembling, tobacco-yellowed fist. 'Why don't you leave me to speak to Mr Miller? I'm sure you've got much more important-' But Colin Miller wasn't hanging around. He grabbed his coat off the stand and barged out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind him, rattling the glass.

Steel stared after him. 'If you need me,' she said, 'I'll be back at the ranch.' And she too was gone. Logan let his head sink forward until it was resting on the tabletop, the begi

'Er… excuse me?'

Logan peeled an eye open to see a blue apron hovering at his shoulder. Further up there was a pretty brunette attached to it, balancing three large plates. She smiled uncertainly down at him. 'Sea bass?'

Back at Force Headquarters, DI Steel was in deep conversation with the Assistant Chief Constable when Logan pushed through the incident room's door. He left them to it – not feeling up to polite conversation, having made a good attempt at eating all three portions of fish out of sheer bloody-mindedness. Brooding as he chewed.

'Jesus, sir: you OK? You look like sh… erm… dreadful.'

DC Re

They played the theme tune as she went through the curtains.'

Logan stuck the note under the constable's nose. 'What about that bit?' he said, pointing at Aopen Wulhir.

Re

Oh, is that Skanky Agnes? I did her once: drunk and disorderly down the docks. Puked all over the back of the van, dirty,cow.'

That sounded about right. 'You busy?' he asked. Re

They picked out one of the newer CID pool cars, Re

Smithfield Drive was on the other side of North Anderson Drive, overlooking the dual carriageway where it dipped down the final hill and died at the Haddington Roundabout.

The buildings were standard Aberdeen City Council fare, no different to the other schemes of rectangular granite slabs all over the city. Skanky Agnes's building was a two-storey block of four flats, hiding behind a front garden that groaned under the weight of gnomes, wishing wells and ornamental trellis smothered in vivid-yellow climbing roses. Not exactly what Logan had been expecting. Agnes's flat was top right, behind a pristine red front door with the name 'SAUNDERS' on it.

He stifled a yawn and got Re

186

I

and-gold kimono clutched half-heartedly closed at the waist, exposing an expanse of cleavage at the top end, and a pair of sturdy legs at the other. Mascara smudged around both eyes on a hardened, but still attractive, professional face.

Definitely not Skanky Agnes. 'What fuckin' time you call this?' Re

Re

She sighed, looked him up and down once more, then pulled the kimono a little tighter, hiding the cleavage, but exposing a dangerous amount of upper thigh. 'Christ, you're not, are you?'

'No, but I could have been.'

The woman laughed and released her grip on the kimono, causing it to fall back into exactly the same position it had occupied in the first place, only more open. 'Aye. That'll be shinin'. You got copper written all over you. What you want?'