keep doing the same thing over and over, getting better at it every time, refining it, building up the fantasy, but it’s… ’ A pause. ‘ It’s as if he doesn’t really like what he does – he cuts Lauren Burges’s head off, but he can’t bring himself to do it again. ’ A strange clicking sound came from the earpiece, as if she was banging the phone off her teeth. ‘ When they examine the remains tomorrow, we need to get them to look for patterns of wounding – map the correlation points, see what else he’s tried and discarded. ’
‘Yeah … OK.’ I hung up, slipped the phone back into my pocket and stood there watching a rat rip a hole in a bin-bag. He doesn’t really like what he does. Bollocks – if he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t keep doing it.
More shuffling from the other side of the alley.
‘Oh, grow up.’ I turned my back on them and hauled the door open. ‘I don’t care, OK? Shag who you want, where you want.’
Whoever it was cleared their throat behind me. ‘How long have you known?’
I stopped, one hand on the door, the music from inside getting louder. Licked my lips. Didn’t say anything.
‘Ash?’ Footsteps on the tarmac. ‘How long have you known?’
I glanced over my shoulder and there he was: DI Shifty Dave Morrow, sausage fingers fidgeting with his jacket buttons.
Chapter 10
‘What? No, I can’t hear you…’ I peered into the gap between the bread and the glowing orange elements – the toaster hadn’t burnt it yet – my mobile pinned between my shoulder and ear, while I dumped teabags into mugs with my other hand. The kettle rumbled and rattled on the working surface.
Cold this morning. The window was a fogged-up slab of dark grey.
On the other end of the phone, Rhona yawned again. ‘ I said, there’s been a complaint down the station. ’
‘What time did you clock off yesterday?’
‘ Didn’t pass my sergeant’s exams so I could be DC my whole life. Got to put in the hours or you don’t get the promotion. You told me that. ’
True, on both counts. The kettle clicked, then went silent. ‘Yeah, but if you fall asleep on the job, or screw something up because you’re knackered, you can kiss three stripes goodbye.’
Boiling water into the mugs. Two slices of slightly overdone toast on a plate.
‘ It was that cow Jennifer Prentice: said you beat up her photographer yesterday. ’
‘Surprised she waited that long.’ A scrape of butter, followed by raspberry jam.
‘ I told Dougie I’d take a look. You know, do some prelim before Professional Standards get hold of it? ’
Two sugars in one of the mugs, then a good splosh of milk in both.
‘ Where does she get off making accusations like that? So what if you thumped some paparazzi dickhead, sure you had a good reason, right? ’
‘Something like that.’ Out in the hall, the sound of muffled snoring rattled the living room door. So much for Parker making himself scarce. The steps creaked under my socks as I climbed upstairs.
‘ Yeah, well don’t worry: I’ll have a word with him. Make sure he has another go remembering what happened. ’
The bedroom was dark, the smell of musk and spice with a faint tinge of bleach. I put breakfast on the chest of drawers, then hauled the curtains open. Condensation made dewy spider webs in the corners of the window. Pale blue fringed the horizon, but Oldcastle was a mass of darkness sprinkled with pinpricks of yellow and white.
‘ Guv? ’
Susanne’s policewoman costume hung on the back of the wardrobe door. Not the utilitarian workaday UK bobby’s uniform, but a sort of fantasy New York Police Department job, with ra-ra-style skirt and leather corset; a hat, handcuffs, and knee-high black PVC kinky boots finishing off the look.
‘ Guv? You there? ’
‘Do me a favour: tell Weber you’re off following-up on the door-to-doors this morning, park the car somewhere quiet, and grab a couple hours’ sleep. Don’t let that prick Smith
‘Yeah … OK.’ I hung up, slipped the phone back into my pocket and stood there watching a rat rip a hole in a bin-bag. He doesn’t really like what he does. Bollocks – if he didn’t like it, he wouldn’t keep doing it.
More shuffling from the other side of the alley.
‘Oh, grow up.’ I turned my back on them and hauled the door open. ‘I don’t care, OK? Shag who you want, where you want.’
Whoever it was cleared their throat behind me. ‘How long have you known?’
I stopped, one hand on the door, the music from inside getting louder. Licked my lips. Didn’t say anything.
‘Ash?’ Footsteps on the tarmac. ‘How long have you known?’
I glanced over my shoulder and there he was: DI Shifty Dave Morrow, sausage fingers fidgeting with his jacket buttons.
Chapter 10
‘What? No, I can’t hear you…’ I peered into the gap between the bread and the glowing orange elements – the toaster hadn’t burnt it yet – my mobile pinned between my shoulder and ear, while I dumped teabags into mugs with my other hand. The kettle rumbled and rattled on the working surface.
Cold this morning. The window was a fogged-up slab of dark grey.
On the other end of the phone, Rhona yawned again. ‘ I said, there’s been a complaint down the station. ’
‘What time did you clock off yesterday?’
‘ Didn’t pass my sergeant’s exams so I could be DC my whole life. Got to put in the hours or you don’t get the promotion. You told me that. ’
True, on both counts. The kettle clicked, then went silent. ‘Yeah, but if you fall asleep on the job, or screw something up because you’re knackered, you can kiss three stripes goodbye.’
Boiling water into the mugs. Two slices of slightly overdone toast on a plate.
‘ It was that cow Jennifer Prentice: said you beat up her photographer yesterday. ’
‘Surprised she waited that long.’ A scrape of butter, followed by raspberry jam.
‘ I told Dougie I’d take a look. You know, do some prelim before Professional Standards get hold of it? ’
Two sugars in one of the mugs, then a good splosh of milk in both.
‘ Where does she get off making accusations like that? So what if you thumped some paparazzi dickhead, sure you had a good reason, right? ’
‘Something like that.’ Out in the hall, the sound of muffled snoring rattled the living room door. So much for Parker making himself scarce. The steps creaked under my socks as I climbed upstairs.
‘ Yeah, well don’t worry: I’ll have a word with him. Make sure he has another go remembering what happened. ’
The bedroom was dark, the smell of musk and spice with a faint tinge of bleach. I put breakfast on the chest of drawers, then hauled the curtains open. Condensation made dewy spider webs in the corners of the window. Pale blue fringed the horizon, but Oldcastle was a mass of darkness sprinkled with pinpricks of yellow and white.
‘ Guv? ’
Susanne’s policewoman costume hung on the back of the wardrobe door. Not the utilitarian workaday UK bobby’s uniform, but a sort of fantasy New York Police Department job, with ra-ra-style skirt and leather corset; a hat, handcuffs, and knee-high black PVC kinky boots finishing off the look.
‘ Guv? You there? ’
‘Do me a favour: tell Weber you’re off following-up on the door-to-doors this morning, park the car somewhere quiet, and grab a couple hours’ sleep. Don’t let that prick Smith
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