Broken Skin

37

It took nearly an hour to round up all the dirty washing and stuff it in the machine. The flat was a pigsty — it always was whenever they were both up to their ears, working too much overtime — so Logan spent most of the afternoon grumbling around the place, trying to make it habitable again. He was in the middle of hoovering the lounge when the doorbell went: a long, insistent buzzing that finally managed to filter through the vacuum cleaner’s drone. It was PC Rickards, standing outside the main door, hands rammed deep into his pockets, shivering. Logan let him in. ‘Let me guess, DI Steel’s suddenly remembered-’

‘Sorry, sir. It’s the DCS — he wants you up at the station, now.’

‘What? I haven’t had a whole day off for weeks! Can’t it-’

‘He was really, really insistent.’

Logan didn’t like the sound of that.

The Chief Constable’s office looked like something out of a horror movie — DI Insch, the DCS in charge of CID, Big Gary, and that ginger-haired bastard Inspector Napier, all looking very unhappy. The CC sat behind his desk wearing a face like thunder, staring at Jackie as she stood to attention in the middle of the room.

‘… think so, don’t you?’ Sandy Moir-Farquharson stopped talking as Logan walked in, then pulled his bruised and battered features into a smug smile. ‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t the great PC Watson’s partner in crime.’

Logan ignored him, staring at Insch instead. ‘Sir?’

But it was the Chief Constable who answered: ‘What the hell were you thinking? Didn’t you stop to consider the repercussions? Grampian Police does not need maverick officers bringing the force into disrepute!’

Nope, going to need more of a clue than that. ‘Sorry, sir?’

Hissing Sid leant forward in his visitors’ chair, cradling his broken arm. ‘You and Watson have been carrying out an illegal, unauthorized surveillance on Rob Macintyre’s property, even though I have a court order requiring you to stay away from my client.’ He smiled like a shark — the missing teeth filled with bright white, temporary dentures. ‘This is blatant harassment and we will not stand for it.’

So Logan had been right: the little footballing bastard had winked at them. Maybe it wasn’t too late to bluff his way out? After all it’d just be Macintyre’s word against theirs. ‘I don’t-’

‘And don’t even bother trying to deny it.’ The lawyer held up a hand-held camcorder and pressed a button on the shiny silver plastic. Tinny sound bristled in the crowded room, a man with a pronounced Aberdonian accent talking to himself while the picture on the little built-in screen jostled from a close-up of an expensive watch — three fifteen in the morning — round until it was pointing straight back at the person holding the camera. Rob Macintyre grinned and waved, then swung the thing back again, pointing it at a darkened window. It took a moment for the autofocus and light balance to catch up, but eventually the picture showed a dark street, lines of parked cars beneath drifting flakes of snow. A wobble, then the camera zoomed in on a depressingly familiar Vauxhall and its occupants: Logan and Jackie, watching the footballer’s house.

Hissing Sid was right, there was no point denying it, so Logan didn’t.

The CC slammed a palm down on his desk, making everything shudder. ‘How could you be so stupid? You knew we’d been ordered to stay away from Macintyre!’

Logan sneaked a quick glance at Jackie, standing boot-faced beside him. She’d obviously not told anyone it’d all been Insch’s idea in the first place, or the fat man would be up here getting his arse chewed off with them. And given the satisfied look of righteous indignation on Inspector Napier’s face, Logan had a shrewd idea what was coming next: gross misconduct, suspension and demotion. If they were lucky. And all because that fat bastard Insch was obsessed with pinning everything on Rob Bloody Macintyre.

Logan took a deep breath and asked what day the tape had been recorded.

‘What?’ The CC looked shocked, ‘You were there more than once?’

‘You see!’ Hissing Sid snapped the camcorder screen shut. ‘I told you they’ve been running an illegal surveillance operation. We-’

‘Was this last night, or the night before?’ Logan asked again.

‘Last night.’

Logan nodded. ‘Yes, we were watching Rob Macintyre’s house.’

Inspector Napier levered himself to his feet, like a praying mantis in a black uniform. ‘Detective Sergeant McRae, I’m suspending you immediately pending a formal review by Professional Standards. You’ve shown a remarkable lapse in judgment and-’

‘We were protecting him: Macintyre.’

Napier was about to say something, but the Chief Constable cut him off. ‘You what?’

‘After the attack on Mr Moir-Farquharson I made a list of possible enemies.’ Which was true: it was everything else that was a barefaced lie. ‘Top of the list were those allegedly raped by Mr Macintyre, who might be looking for revenge on one or both men. Knowing that Grampian Police had been formally warned not to approach Mr Macintyre directly, I persuaded Constable Watson to accompany me on an un-authorized surveillance operation of his property, in case he was targeted for attack.’ It sounded like a prepared statement for court. Logan was rather pleased with himself.

There was a moment’s silence, then Moir-Farquharson said, ‘You don’t seriously expect us to believe-’

‘It’s how we caught Russell McGillivray. If we hadn’t been there watching the house, he’d have attacked Macintyre. And maybe this time he’d have gone all the way. We’d have been looking at a murder.’

The angry red was slowly draining from the Chief Constable’s face, to be replaced by a cheery pink glow and a big smile. ‘And you went back last night …?’

‘Because we couldn’t be sure McGillivray was working alone.’

The CC looked from Logan, to Jackie, to the lawyer, then back again. ‘I see. So you were only watching Mr Macintyre’s house-’

‘For his safety. Yes, sir.’

‘On your own time.’ He nodded, smiled, then said, ‘In which case I apologize, Sergeant. Good work.’

Moir-Farquharson lurched to his feet, wincing all the way. ‘But-’

‘There’s going to be a letter of commendation for you and Constable Watson.’

‘But-’

‘Well then, now that’s all settled we can get back to work. If you’ll all excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.’ He picked up his phone and started dialling. The interview was over.

Out in the corridor the lawyer stared at Logan as the CC’s door swung shut behind them. ‘But …’ He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Given the circumstances, I think it’s no longer appropriate for you to watch my client’s house.’

‘You remember what you said to me when I showed you Russell McGillivray’s photo?’

The lawyer frowned, ‘I … I called him an ungrateful bastard.’

‘You can see yourself out.’