Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
‘Here’s a wee summary for you, boss.’
Logan picked some morning sleep from the corner of an eye and looked down at the sheet of paper that was being offered to him by DC Neish. Tyler gave him an encouraging nod as he inched the page closer.
‘A summary?’ Jack asked, still not taking it.
‘Aye, that’s right, boss. Knocked it together overnight. Just pulled together the information we’ve got so far onto a cheeky one-sheet for us. Make it easier, I thought,’ Tyler explained.
Logan looked past the detective constable to where DC Sinead Bell was arranging information on a freestanding corkboard in the centre of the Incident Room.
‘Is Sinead not pulling it all together on the Big Board?’
‘Oh, aye. She is. And I’m sure she’s doing a great job, as always,’ Tyler said. ‘But I just thought it might be handy to have it laid out as just a wee one-pager, too.’
‘Right. You just thought you’d do that, did you?’ Logan asked. ‘Just off your own back, to make life easier for us?’
Tyler beamed at him. He gave the sheet of paper a waggle, reminding the DCI it was there. ‘Exactly.’
‘Nothing to do with the upcoming interviews, then? This competition you two’ve got going on?’
‘What? No. Perish the thought,’ Tyler said. He kept his smile nailed on as he placed the sheet of paper down on Logan’s desk. ‘I’ll just leave this here for you. I think you’ll be quite impressed by it, if I do say so myself.’
With a wink, a point, and a click from the side of his mouth, Tyler headed off to continue distributing his pile of printouts.
‘Dave, mate! Here, you’ll like this…’
Logan watched him go, then grunted and shrugged off his coat. He dumped it on his chair before joining Sinead by the Big Board.
‘Morning, sir,’ she said, glancing up at him.
She pinned an index card to the board, brushed her hands together like she was wiping dust off them, then turned to address the DCI properly.
‘Sorry about last night, sir. About me not being there. We couldn’t get a babysitter.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ Logan told her. ‘What about the Hoons?’
‘Apparently, they’re away. Some sort of work trip.’
‘Work trip? He doesn’t have a job, does he?’
‘Beats me, sir. We’ve managed to get something sorted for now, though.’
Logan looked back over his shoulder to where Tyler was now presenting his printout to Hamza. The DI’s eyes were sunken, the bags beneath them fully laden with the contents of a sleepless night.
‘Any word on your interview date yet?’ Jack asked, turning back to Sinead.
‘Not yet, sir. Might be hearing today, though,’ Sinead said. She chewed her lip, and tightened the scrunchie that held her ponytail in place. ‘You, eh, you heard how many are in for it yet?’
‘Officially, no,’ Logan told her. ‘Off the record, aye. You and him. Nobody else.’
Sinead’s eyes widened a little. ‘Oof. OK. Right. So, it’s likely to be one of us, then?’
‘Unless you both make a spectacular arse of the interview, then aye. Aye, I’d say it’s going to be one of the two of you.’
‘I think Tyler really wants it,’ Sinead said, looking over at her husband.
‘Aye. Seems to, right enough,’ Logan agreed. ‘Let’s see just how much.’
He turned and raised his voice, calling across the room to the detective constable.
‘Here. Tyler. I think a round of teas and coffees is in order, eh?’
‘No bother, boss!’ Tyler practically sang the words. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the door. ‘And how about I nip to the canteen and see if I can rustle us up some biscuits, while I’m at it?’
The teas and coffees were decent. The biscuits, not so much. The canteen had run out of the good stuff, and all that had been left were some crumbly oaty things, and a handful of slightly stale Digestives. Not even chocolate ones, either.
Tyler had tried to make the best of a bad situation by fanning them out on a paper plate, but it was clear that his heart wasn’t in it. These biscuits were impressing no one, and he knew it.
‘Right, so, we’ve all got a big day ahead of us,’ Logan announced to the room at large.
He used a pinkie to unhook some oaty mush from the back of his teeth, then tilted his mug towards the Big Board.
‘All this, we’ll get to in a few minutes.
Before that, though, I’d like to just congratulate DI Khaled on his handling of the scene yesterday. ’
‘Woo!’ Dave Davidson cheered through his cupped hands. ‘Gaun yersel’, big man.’
Hamza sank lower in his chair, like he was trying to disappear into it. ‘Um, thanks,’ he mumbled. ‘But, I wasn’t… I didn’t feel it went that great. Tyler and Dave did most of the work.’
‘You hear that, boss?’ Tyler said. He shot a meaningful look at the fresh A4 notepad and sharpened pencils he’d placed on the DCI’s desk. ‘You want to write that down, or anything?’
‘No,’ Logan told him, before turning his attention back to Hamza. ‘Look, I get it, son. It’s not easy, stepping into a new role. Things that were second nature, you’re suddenly questioning. It’s normal, believe me. Happens to the best of us.’
‘Thanks,’ Hamza said again.
He didn’t look like he believed a word of it.
‘I’d hoped to be able to ease you into things more gently. Give you a grounding before the shit hit the fan, sort of thing. Best laid plans, and all that.’ He took a slurp of his coffee. ‘So, given the hand we’ve been dealt, and how tight we’re likely to be for time, I came up with an alternative.’
Hamza frowned. His gaze darted around at the other detectives, but none of them looked any the wiser.
‘To be honest, my detective inspector days are a bit of a blur, anyway. And I’m not exactly known for being a great teacher,’ Logan continued. ‘So, with that in mind, I thought I’d bring in an expert. Someone far more suited to training up a DI than I am.’
Tyler’s face paled. ‘Oh, God, no,’ he croaked. ‘Not Heather Filson?’
‘Please welcome, DI Heather Filson,’ Logan announced, gesturing to the door.
Everyone turned. Everyone waited.
Nothing happened.
‘Come on, what do you think I am, a bloody sadist?’ Logan asked. He raised his voice and raised his mug at the same time. ‘Right, in you come.’
The door creaked open. A head of grey hair appeared, wearing a slightly bewildered smile.
‘Was that my cue, was it?’ asked former Detective Inspector Ben Forde. He clocked the paper plate on Tyler’s desk. ‘And is that biscuits I see?’
It took a good ten minutes for the excitement to die down after Ben’s arrival. Ten minutes of shaking hands, and laughter, and questions about how things had been, and how life was treating the former DI.
This was despite the fact it had been less than a week since most of them had last seen him. They’d all gone for lunch in the café out back that he now ran alongside his partner, Moira Corson.
Quite how far that partnership went, and in which directions, none of them knew for sure. Nobody liked to ask, either, because that would mean having to consider the implications, and none of them was ready for that.
Tyler went to make more tea and coffee without being asked, though his attempts to secure more biscuits were met with failure and disappointment.
By the time he returned, everyone was sitting in a semi-circle around Logan, who stood by the Big Board, tapping his watch.
‘Come on, son, we’ve no’ got all bloody day,’ Jack said.
‘Aye, come on, Tyler,’ Sinead urged, fighting back a grin. ‘Chop chop.’
The detective constable bowed repeatedly in apology, then passed out the hot drinks. Ben took a big, noisy slurp of his, then closed his eyes, savouring the moment.
‘Tastes like pish,’ he remarked, then he wrapped his hands around the mug and sighed. ‘Man, it’s good to be back!’