Handbag Of Doom and fiddled with it. ‘You know what it’s like with child abduction cases: if you don’t get a major break in the first twenty-four hours…’ Was she Tweeting? ‘No one saw Ellie run away, no one saw someone take her. We’ve got a few reports of a red car, or maybe a blue one, estate and-slash-or hatchback in the vicinity, but that’s it.’
‘And DS Chalmers?’
A hard sigh. ‘I thought she’d turned herself around, I really did. Yes, she’s always been ambitious, driven, but… I don’t know.’ Fraser put her phone down. ‘I ask her to go interview someone, she doesn’t do it. I tell her to do door-to-doors, she never shows up. I order her to help search the neighbourhood sheds and garages, she goes AWOL.’
No surprises there, then.
‘Where is she now?’
‘Tillydrone: breaking the stepfather’s alibi. Or at least she’s supposed to be. God knows, half the time.’
Logan softened his voice. ‘What happens when you talk to her about it?’
‘Might as well paint a penguin on your willy and call it Antarctica. She’s sorry; she’ll change; she’s going through a rough time right now.’ Fraser reached into her desk drawer and produced a blue folder. Thumped it on the desk. ‘I documented every infraction, every meeting, and every outcome.’
‘You should’ve come to me earlier.’
‘I know, I know. But … sometimes they just need a slap on the wrist. Getting your lot involved isn’t…’ She went back to fiddling with her phone again. ‘They’re still my people.’
‘Professional Standards aren’t here to screw people, Kim. We’re here to help.’ Logan picked up the folder and stuck it under his arm. ‘Do you still want her in your team?’
Fraser kept her eyes on her phone’s screen. ‘I… We’re looking for a wee girl, Inspector McRae. We can’t afford to lose this time.’ She finally looked up. ‘And loyalty has to go both ways.’
Why did everything require nine million forms to be completed in triplicate? Couldn’t go for a pee in the police without a Three-Sixty-Nine B, two corroborating witnesses, and a—
Logan’s phone dinged.
HORRIBLE STEEL:
Look, how about a compromise? You babysit J&N tonight and I’ll look after Cthulhu if you want to take Ginger McHotpants on a dirty weekend later.
Reply:
No. And stop calling her ”Ginger McHotpants”!
He’d barely hit ‘SEND’ when the office door thumped open and Steel slouched in. The phone in her pocket chirruped as she settled on the edge of his desk.
‘That better be you texting me back in the positive, Laz.’
Logan put his phone down, sat forwards in his seat, steepled his fingers, and stared at her. ‘Ah, Detective Sergeant Steel, I wanted a word with you.’
‘If the word’s no’ “I’d be delighted to babysit” I don’t want to hear it.’
‘DS Lorna Chalmers: tell me about her.’
A shrug. ‘Magnificent breasts, so-so arse. But overall? I’d still ride her like a broken donkey.’
Oh God, there was an image.
‘No! What’s she like to work with?’
‘Aye, because I’m going to clype on one of my team to you sneaky Professional Standards scumbags.’
‘Scumbags?’
‘With all due blah, blah, blah, etcetera. Now what about that babysitting?’
He folded his arms. ‘I’m busy.’
‘No you’re no’. You have all the social life of a garden gnome.’
‘Yes I am. But maybe if you scratched my back…?’ Leaving it hanging.
‘Lorna Chalmers is a pain in the hoop,’ Steel stood, ‘but I’m still no’ clyping on her.’
Interesting.
‘But you admit there’s something to clype about?’
‘I’m admitting sod-all.’ She stuck her chin out. ‘And if you didn’t want to babysit your own kids you shouldn’t have got my wife pregnant.’
‘Not this again.’ He pointed at the door. ‘Away with you. Out. Go. Depart. Before I do you for insubordinating a superior officer.’
‘Pfff…’ She flounced out, nose in the air, leaving the office door hanging open. Then her hand appeared in the doorway, did a wee mime turny flourish, then flashed two fingers and flipped him the Vs before disappearing.
‘You’re supposed to be a grown-up!’
No reply.
‘Typical.’ Logan checked his watch: 12:10. Oops… Should’ve been back at Bucksburn for that meeting with Chalmers ten minutes ago. Assuming she’d bothered to turn up this time. He pulled out his phone and called Rennie. ‘Have I got any visitors?’
A strange, wet, slurping noise came down the line, followed by a muffled, ‘Have you noticed that no one visiting ever brings us biscuits?’
‘Are you eating something?’
Another slurp. ‘… No?’
‘Visitors, Simon. Specifically, DS Lorna Chalmers: we’ve got a twelve o’clock scheduled.’
‘But it’s ten past.’
‘I know. That’s why I’m—’
‘Ah, I get it. You’re making her stew in her own guilty gravy for a bit. Ratchet up the tension.’
‘No. I got caught up with these—’
‘Hold on.’ One more slurp, then a scrunching sound – the background noises changing as Rennie wandered off somewhere. ‘Nope: no sign of her in reception. Well, not unless she’s hiding under the coffee table.’
‘Damn it.’ Of course she wasn’t there. When did she ever turn up? ‘What about Fred Marshall?’
‘His doctor and dentist won’t give me anything without warrants, so I asked the Warrant Fairy for some and do you know what she said?’
Logan groaned.
‘That’s right, she said, “Naughty DS Rennie! You know you can’t have a warrant to seize people’s medical records without probable cause. Bad DS Rennie! Back in your box!”’
‘Then get me a last known address. And stop eating whatever it is you’re eating: it sounds obscene.’
‘Nothing obscene about Pot Noodles.’ Rennie gave his noodles an extra-loud slurp. ‘You know, when you asked me to come be a plainclothes gruntmonkey for you at Professional Standards I thought that was a playful euphemism for “valued colleague and important member of the team”.’
‘Diddums. Now be a good gruntmonkey and text me that address.’
Laughter and voices filled the station canteen as a collection of about two dozen uniforms, plainclothes, and support staff gorged on lunch. They filled all the tables but one. The one Logan sat at, all on his own, Billy Nae Mates in the middle of his own private bubble.
Good job he had a dirty-big plate of macaroni cheese and chips to console him.
He