Dying light

39

'Are you sure we should be doing this?' asked Jackie for what felt like the millionth time in the last half hour. The car was cold and uncomfortable, sitting in a small pool of darkness between two lampposts on the quiet residential road. Once more Logan said no, he wasn't, and went back to staring through the windscreen at Brendan 'Chib'

Sutherland's house. An unofficial stakeout in a purloined CID pool car? Of course they shouldn't be doing it. Especially as Jackie was technically still on duty for the next thirty-two minutes.

A faint groan came from the back seat and DC Re

'Like shite…'He closed one eye and squinted at the house opposite. 'Where the hell's Steve got to?'

Jackie half turned in her seat. 'Give him a break, OK? He's not the one been out getting pished.'

'Zeesh, who rattled your bumhole?'

Logan gritted his teeth. 'Will you two shut up?' He scowled into the rear-view mirror and Re

Logan turned round and snatched the thing off Re

'Where the hell did you get this?'

Re

It looked like Councillor Marshall's porn collection was doing the rounds all over Aberdeen Command Division – police men and women from Stonehaven to Fraserburgh giggling their way through the man's anal fetish. Made you proud.

'You realize I have to go sign out at midnight, don't you?' said Jackie, peering over her shoulder at Re

'Tell you what, soon as PC Jacobs gets here you can both go back to the station, sign out, then come back. OK?'

'What you going to do if Sutherland leaves the house while we're away?'

'Follow him.'

Jackie snorted. 'You can't follow him: you've been drinking. So has Captain Caveman here.'

'Maybe we'll get lucky and… oh-ho: company.' A pair of headlights cruised up the street towards them, pulling up on the other side of the road. A pause, then the lights clicked off. No sign of movement from Chib's house. A figure got out of the manky old Fiat – PC Steve Jacobs, still wearing his uniform – arms full of takeaway. He clambered into the back beside Re

'Evenin' all,' he intoned, popping the cardboard lid off a huge bucket of chicken. 'I got some aspirins, one of them bargain family things and- Hey, wait your turn!' Re

'We saw it in the pub,' said Re

'Now what?' asked Re

Jackie checked her watch. 'Now we have to go sign out.'

'It's OK,' said Steve, 'I got Big Gary to do it for us. Cost me three Mars Bars, but we're free for the night.'

They spent a while playing Spits-or-Swallows, Logan steering well clear of the game; it just made him think of Colin's fingers. Then came a wide-ranging philosophical discussion on thongs versus big pants and after that Re

Half past one and Chib's lounge was plunged into darkness.

Logan stretched in his seat, feeling his back pop and twinge, complaining about sitting here for the last two and a bit hours. His alcohol buzz was long gone, leaving behind a headache and heartburn. The sound of gentle snoring was coming from the back seat, but up front Jackie squinted at Councillor Marshall's magazine, twisting and turning the page to catch as much of the faint sulphurous street lighting as possible. 'You know,' said Logan as the upstairs light flickered on in the house they were watching. 'Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all.'

Jackie looked up from what had to be a faked photograph.

Thought you said it was the only way we'd get anything on Chib and his mate?'

Logan shrugged, head resting against the misty passenger window. 'I don't know.' Sigh. To be honest I don't know anything any more…' He took a deep breath and told her about Colin Miller and what Isobel said had happened. And how it was all his fault.

'Oh come on, you've got to be kidding me!' She threw a glance into the back seat – where Re

A bleary-eyed PC Steve poked his head through to the front and asked what was going on. Logan was just about to tell him they were going home when the light clicked on above Chib's front door and a shadowy figure hurried out into the night, carrying a holdall. 'Heads up,' said Logan, 'something's happening…' He squinted, wishing he'd got Steve to lift a pair of night-vision goggles. The figure passed beneath a streetlight: black coat, black jeans, black woolly hat, long black hair and moustache. Chib's mate – the Gimp – walked down to the far end of the street, turning right onto Countesswells Avenue.

'OK!' Jackie sounded excited to be doing something for a change. 'Buckle up people!'

Logan stopped her before she could turn the key. 'We can't. What about Chib?'

'What about him? The Gimp is on the go, his mate isn't.

We have to get cracking or we'll lose him!'

'OK, OK…' Logan screwed his face up, ru

It was Jackie's turn to frown. 'How come I get Re

Why can't I take Steve?'

'Because Re

'Then you come with me.'

'And leave these two in charge of the house? I'd kinda like at least one sensible person in each team, if it's OK with you.'

PC Steve's face fell. 'Hey, I heard that!'