Chapter 65
Somewhere deep in the cells, an elderly man launched into a filthy ballad about a nun borrowing Satan’s bicycle.
Logan stifled a yawn.
The PCSO turned the page. ‘Give us a minute; been mopping up vomit since half seven . . .’ Then a nod.
‘Here we go: duty solicitor’s in with a Keira Longmore now, so you’re in luck.
Took us eight hours to find one yesterday.
’ The clipboard went back on the desk. ‘He can see your boy next. Want us to give you a bell when he’s ready? ’
‘Thanks.’ Scrubbing some life back into his face. ‘Right . . .’ Logan pushed through into the stairwell, with its painted breeze blocks and miserable motivational posters, footsteps echoing back from the concrete floor as he slogged his way upstairs.
He’d almost reached the first landing before his mobile launched into ‘Space Oddity’. Slumping against the wall, he checked the screen before answering. ‘WELCOME TO TUFTYVILLE!’ glowed up at him.
But Logan pressed the button anyway. ‘What’s gone wrong now?’
‘Sarge? Just wanted you to know that everyone’s gone free, so we does has ring-side tickets for any time the circus is in town!
Which is coolio. But the press turned up with their cameras and microphones and shouty questions, which is definitely not coolio.
But then word got round that you’re doing a media briefing soon, and they all did scurry away – whoosh! So is coolio again.’
Another yawn juddered free, and Logan let it rip, ending with a sigh and a sag. ‘Tell everyone: back to the shop, write up your reports, and sign out for the night.’
You could almost hear the wee loon doing his happy dance. ‘We has done good today and did catch the bad guy. That am being the most coolio of all!’
Had to admit, he had a point.
‘Yeah: I suppose you’re not that bad a sidekick. Now sod off; I’ve got crap to finish before I go home.’ Logan hung up and sagged a little more.
Down in the custody suite, the fabled nun performed a very unwise sexual act with a penguin and a bicycle pump – all belted out in a wobbly baritone.
Then Logan’s phone joined in with a ding-buzz on the chorus.
SWEENY:
Where are you?
Press briefing is in 15 minutes!!!
Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?!?!
He let his head thunk back against the breeze blocks. ‘Come on, Logan, only five more years till you can retire . . .’