She pursed her lips. ‘You let me worry about that.’
Logan hauled himself out of the chair. ‘Anything else?’
‘Aye, try no’ to fuck anything up, or anyone off, while I’m away. I can’t be arsed breaking in a new DS.’
Logan deleted the last sentence and rewrote it again, before firing the whole thing off to the printer in the corner of the sergeants’ cubbyhole. One formal letter of apology.
Someone said, ‘Knock, knock?’ and he looked up to see PC Butler standing in the doorway, holding a sheet of paper. ‘Thought you’d be gone by now.’
Logan groaned. ‘Not another bloody armed robbery…’
Biohazard Bob grinned. ‘Sergeant McRae’s feeling a bit down this evening, Vicki. Professional Standards gave him a rough seeing to. Without the benefit of foreplay or lubricant.’
‘Up yours Bob.’
‘No, up
Butler held up the sheet. ‘It’s that e-fit you asked for.’
Logan took a look. Then groaned again. ‘This is crap.’
‘Yup.’
The computer identikit face was dominated by a big comedy beard and a pair of dark glasses. ‘So all we need to do is arrest every member of ZZ Top and we’ll be laughing.’ He stuffed the e-fit in his in-tray and slumped back in his seat. ‘Brilliant.’
‘He wore gloves, a disguise, kept the door from locking when they tripped the silent alarm, and never even glanced at the CCTV camera once.’
Logan covered his face with his hands, mumbling through the fingers, ‘But he grabs the crappest, shiniest baubles and doesn’t even think to go for the cash register.’
Bob performed a little drum roll on his desk. ‘You want to know what
‘Not really.’
‘Suit yourself.’
Logan let his hands drop and watched Bob gather up a handful of Unlawful Removal forms, stand, and make for the door. He stopped right on the threshold, turned back, scrunched up his eyes, raised a finger and said, ‘Just one more thing…’ in his best Columbo voice.
‘What?’
But Bob just grinned, stepped outside and closed the door.
PC Butler turned back to Logan. ‘So what do you want me to do about our armed robber?’
‘Go round anyone we’ve done for resetting in the last five years, better do the pawn shops too. Whoever he is, he’ll be trying to flog his takings…’ Logan drifted to a halt as he saw the expression on Butler’s face sour. ‘Are you—Oh
‘What’s that, Sweetheart? No, you’ll have to speak up.’ Julie sticks a finger in her ear, face turned away from the steering wheel. ‘Yeah, that’s better…How’s Tiggy and Milly?’ She laughs. ‘Did she?’
Tony sits in the passenger seat, trying not to eavesdrop as she asks after her tabby cat and Tibetan terrier. The Range Rover’s illegally parked on a double yellow, but when Julie’s driving stuff like that kinda gets forgotten about. Along with the speed limit and the number of obscene gestures you should make at other motorists.
He stares out of the window, watching the main entrance to the hotel. It’s a fancy looking place, all carved granite and sticky-out bits.
Still no sign of Neil.
Tony searches through his pockets for a packet of chewy antacids, pops one in and grimaces his way through it. Bloody balti lamb.
Finally…
He nudges Julie and points across the road. Neil’s marching down the hotel steps and out onto the pavement. The big man looks left, then right, then left again – like a good little boy – then hurries across to the car and clambers in the back seat.
‘Bloody freezing out there, like.’ He shuffles forward. ‘Turn the blowers up.’
‘Yeah…No. I gotta go, OK? Bye, Darling.’ And Julie hangs up. Doesn’t turn around. ‘What’s the score on the doors?’
Neil grins. ‘You were right: we
She nods. ‘Told you.’
‘He’s staying in room Three Twenty-Two.’
‘You sure?’
‘Followed him down the corridor, like. Watched him go into his room – it’s a king-sized double, if it helps?’
Julie turns in her seat and smiles at him. ‘You did good, Babe.’
‘Checked out the back too. There’s a loading dock we can jimmy open and a couple of CCTV cameras. But the cables run along the wall, so you can cut them without the daft sods seeing nowt.’
Tony pops another antacid. ‘You want to take him tonight?’
She pauses, head on one side, chewing the inside of her cheek. ‘Think we’d better call the boss first, don’t you?’
Neil nods. ‘Then grab something to eat?’
Tony burps and winces. ‘Not bloody curry again.’
Then Neil asks the
‘What about him?’
‘Well…shouldn’t we be doing something? Getting ready, like?’
‘All in good time, Babe.’ She draws a smiley face on the inside of her window with a fingertip. ‘All in good time.’
19
Logan sat bolt upright on the couch, blinking, head reeling. The lights were all on, the TV grumbling away to itself in the corner. ‘Urgh…’
