hadn’t managed to get anything else out of him. And as Steel said, it was too hot in the interview room to bugger about any longer. So down to the cells went Jamie McKinnon and down to the canteen went Logan and DI Steel. Chilled tins of Irn-Bru all round. ‘Christ, that’s better,’ she said, standing outside on the rear podium two minutes later, surrounded by the patrol and pool cars, drink in one hand, cigarette smouldering away in the other. ‘We’ll get the PF in to look at the tape. “I never meant to hurt her,” my arse, all we need is a couple of witnesses and we’re laughing.’ She smiled and knocked back a mouthful of Irn-Bru. ‘Knew it was about time my luck changed.’
Unfortunately Logan’s hadn’t. When DI Steel said, ‘All we need is a couple of witnesses,’ what she actually meant was that Logan had to change shifts and spend the next couple of nights wandering around the docks chatting up prostitutes. The first time in ages that his shift patternwas the same as Jackie’s, and the inspector wanted it all changed again. Jackie was going to kill him.
‘You’re young,’ Steel told him when he complained, ‘you’ll get over it. Better bugger off home after lunch. Get some kip. In the meantime, let’s get the PF down here…’
The Procurator Fiscal and her new deputy sat through the recording of Jamie McKinnon’s interview in silence. The tape was a good start, but it wasn’t enough to secure a conviction, for that they’d need some real, hard forensic evidence. ‘Speaking of which,’ said Rachael Tulloch, deputy PF to the stars, ‘how did you get on with those contraceptives?’ The Fiscal looked momentarily flustered as Logan explained about the two hundred and thirteen second-hand prophylactics sitting in the morgue’s specimen freezers; it looked like this was the first she’d heard of her deputy’s spectacular plan. At least Rachael had the decency to blush and admit it was a lot more condoms than she’d been anticipating, but now that they had a suspect under arrest, couldn’t they match his DNA to them? Prove he was there? The Fiscal went quiet for a minute, considering it, and then agreed it probably couldn’t hurt. Logan tried not to groan. Isobel was bound to blame him for all the work she was about to get. He consoled himself with the thought that she didn’t like him much anyway.
When he went down to the morgue to break the bad news, Isobel was hunched over her brain-in-a-bucket again. Her reaction to Logan’s request for DNA testing was pretty much what he’d been expecting. Only with more swearing.
‘Don’t look at me,’ he said when she paused for breath. ‘I told you: it’s that new PF. She’s mad for used condoms. Could you not just blood test the semen and only DNA match the ones with the same blood group as Jamie McKinnon?’
Reluctantly Isobel agreed that it would be a lot less work. But she still wasn’t happy. Grumbling, she dug the condoms out of the freezer, where they’d had just enough time to go hard. For the second time in their lives.
Logan checked his watch and left her to it. If he hurried he could grab lunch with Jackie in the canteen before heading back to the flat to try and get some sleep. Not that he held out much hope: he always had trouble adjusting to the night shift, and usually he had a couple of days off in between to get used to the idea. Sod the diet. He was having chips with his lasagne today. And a pudding.
Though on second thoughts, tapioca probably wasn’t the wisest of choices. Looking at it, congealing in the bowl, all white with translucent lumps, all he could think of was Isobel slowly defrosting her condoms down in the morgue. Shuddering he pushed the bowl away.
‘Interfering old bitch.’ Jackie stabbed her jam sponge with an angry spoon. ‘Why did she have to go buggering about with your shifts? If you have to go onto nights today and tomorrow…’She did the arithmetic on her fingers. ‘That puts you
Unfortunately Logan’s hadn’t. When DI Steel said, ‘All we need is a couple of witnesses,’ what she actually meant was that Logan had to change shifts and spend the next couple of nights wandering around the docks chatting up prostitutes. The first time in ages that his shift patternwas the same as Jackie’s, and the inspector wanted it all changed again. Jackie was going to kill him.
‘You’re young,’ Steel told him when he complained, ‘you’ll get over it. Better bugger off home after lunch. Get some kip. In the meantime, let’s get the PF down here…’
The Procurator Fiscal and her new deputy sat through the recording of Jamie McKinnon’s interview in silence. The tape was a good start, but it wasn’t enough to secure a conviction, for that they’d need some real, hard forensic evidence. ‘Speaking of which,’ said Rachael Tulloch, deputy PF to the stars, ‘how did you get on with those contraceptives?’ The Fiscal looked momentarily flustered as Logan explained about the two hundred and thirteen second-hand prophylactics sitting in the morgue’s specimen freezers; it looked like this was the first she’d heard of her deputy’s spectacular plan. At least Rachael had the decency to blush and admit it was a lot more condoms than she’d been anticipating, but now that they had a suspect under arrest, couldn’t they match his DNA to them? Prove he was there? The Fiscal went quiet for a minute, considering it, and then agreed it probably couldn’t hurt. Logan tried not to groan. Isobel was bound to blame him for all the work she was about to get. He consoled himself with the thought that she didn’t like him much anyway.
When he went down to the morgue to break the bad news, Isobel was hunched over her brain-in-a-bucket again. Her reaction to Logan’s request for DNA testing was pretty much what he’d been expecting. Only with more swearing.
‘Don’t look at me,’ he said when she paused for breath. ‘I told you: it’s that new PF. She’s mad for used condoms. Could you not just blood test the semen and only DNA match the ones with the same blood group as Jamie McKinnon?’
Reluctantly Isobel agreed that it would be a lot less work. But she still wasn’t happy. Grumbling, she dug the condoms out of the freezer, where they’d had just enough time to go hard. For the second time in their lives.
Logan checked his watch and left her to it. If he hurried he could grab lunch with Jackie in the canteen before heading back to the flat to try and get some sleep. Not that he held out much hope: he always had trouble adjusting to the night shift, and usually he had a couple of days off in between to get used to the idea. Sod the diet. He was having chips with his lasagne today. And a pudding.
Though on second thoughts, tapioca probably wasn’t the wisest of choices. Looking at it, congealing in the bowl, all white with translucent lumps, all he could think of was Isobel slowly defrosting her condoms down in the morgue. Shuddering he pushed the bowl away.
‘Interfering old bitch.’ Jackie stabbed her jam sponge with an angry spoon. ‘Why did she have to go buggering about with your shifts? If you have to go onto nights today and tomorrow…’She did the arithmetic on her fingers. ‘That puts you
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