From the front, Samantha didn’t look much like herself, everything hidden by that baggy white suit, the hood covering her bright red hair, wearing a facemask and safety goggles. She hesitated for a moment, slipped the phone into an evidence bag, wrote the time, date, location, and other details into the appropriate boxes printed on the outside, then handed it to another tech with a clipboard. Who made some more notes.
Steel puffed out her cheeks. ‘Today would be nice!’
The Crime Scene Manager didn’t even look up. ‘Sounds like someone got out the wrong side of bed this—’
‘Pete, I’m warning you – my holiday’s been cancelled, my wife’s no’ speaking to me, and I’ve got itchy bits – don’t screw me about!’
‘Evidentiary procedures exist for a reason, Inspector.’ He went back to making notes.
Logan looked up and down the hall. ‘Have you checked the tapes from the lobby and the lifts? I noticed the security cameras when—’
Steel smacked him one. ‘Course I bloody checked. Nothing. Must’ve taken the service lift, or the back stairs. Got IB looking for trace as we speak. I
Logan wandered off to the end of the corridor, opened the door marked ‘EMERGENCY EXIT’ and stared down the service stairs – bare concrete steps, plain walls. Sod carrying someone like Danby down that lot, be just asking for a hernia.
Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Logan sighed. ‘What now?’
‘Just wanted to say hello…’
Samantha. She had her SOC hood thrown back, exposing a wildfire eruption of scarlet hair, her facemask dangling on the elastic, just beneath her chin.
He pulled on a smile, leaned in and kissed her. ‘Hello.’
Logan nodded back towards the room. ‘Any ideas?’
‘Rough guess? It’s an abduction. If they wanted him dead, there’d be a big pink corpse in there…’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘You see the papers today?’
‘What, “Tyneside Sex-Beast Strikes Again”?’
Richard Knox had attacked an old man living in Cove, just south of the city, and the
‘Actually…’ A little wrinkle appeared between Samantha’s neatly plucked eyebrows. ‘You know what? It’ll wait.’ She leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
‘Now I’m really starting to worry…’
She looked away. ‘They found that kid’s suicide note: the art student. He’d posted it on Facebook. Got a two-page spread in the
Logan stared at her. ‘What bloody harassment? I interviewed him
She backed off, hands up. ‘Hey, I’m only telling you what was in the note.’
‘Little
Which explained why Big Gary wouldn’t look him in the eye when he’d signed in at the station this morning.
Steel came lumbering up the corridor. ‘Called the number: Danby’s wife. She spoke to him last night, hung up after the line went quiet for a while. Says he falls asleep in front of the telly a lot.’ Steel looked Samantha up and down. ‘Hey, Red.’
‘Inspector.’
Silence.
‘So, tell me.’ Steel smiled. ‘Collar and cuffs: they match?’
‘…I need to get back to the scene.’ Samantha marched back towards Danby’s hotel room, her cheeks bright pink.
Logan closed the stairwell door. ‘Did you have to do that?’
‘Love-life’s in the crapper, remember? Got to get my jollies where I can.’ She made for the lifts, dragging Logan behind her. ‘Come on, we’ve got an auld mannie to visit.’
Sunlight struggled through the blinds into the over-warm room. Unlike the rest of the hospital, the victim support suite had plush carpets, a soft sofa with stain-free cushions, a coffee table with gaily-coloured coasters and up-to-date magazines. And a camera sitting in the corner on a tripod, the red light glowing to show it was recording.
An old man crouched in a floral-print armchair, his clawed fingers picking at the seam of his trousers. His face was a mess of green and purple bruises, a bite mark clear on the wrinkled skin of his left wrist. Even so, the doctors said he’d got off lightly compared to Harry from Sacro. Small mercies.
His voice was barely a whisper.
