Chapter 15 #2
‘I’ve got us lunch,’ he said, shooting a look at the door. ‘But we’d better get a shifty on before the buggers notice.’
By the time Hamza and Ben arrived back at Burnett Road station, a large dent had been made in the sandwich haul. Ben sat in the passenger seat, meticulously picking breadcrumbs off the front of his shirt, and dropping them out of the open side window.
‘Don’t want to get your car messy,’ he explained.
Hamza chose not to point out that he could’ve just waited until he was out of the car before getting stuck in, but felt this would only lead to confused looks and head scratching.
‘Your speech back there. It was good. Perfect, in fact. Just what they needed to hear.’
Hamza turned off the engine. ‘Cheers, sir.’ He gave a jerk of his head. ‘Ben. Sorry.’
‘I don’t think it was true, though. What you said,’ Ben continued.
‘How do you mean?’
‘You. Needing help. I mean, aye, you do, like you said, we all do sometimes. But this? This job? Nah. This is no bother for you.’
Hamza shook his head and looked away. Out through the windscreen. Out at the station, towering above them.
‘I feel… I don’t know. There’s so much to learn. And it’s different, you know? Running a scene, all them people waiting for your orders. Waiting on your decisions. It’s… I just struggle with it.’
‘I never struggled with any of that,’ Ben told him.
‘No, I know, you always made it look easy,’ Hamza agreed.
Ben smiled. ‘I never struggled with it because I always just delegated it,’ he said. ‘To you.’
Hamza shot him a questioning look.
‘All those scenes. All those murders. When did you ever see me dishing out orders? Coordinating anyone? Making sure everything was under control?’
‘Well…’ Hamza began. ‘I mean…’
‘You did that, son. You’ve always done that, from detective constable onwards. Moreso after we lost Caitlin. I never asked you to, never told you to, you just knew what needed doing, and you made sure it got done. That’s all this job is. That’s all any job is, I suppose.’
Hamza stared ahead again, considering this.
‘When whoever gets the DS job steps up—’
‘Sinead, probably,’ Hamza said.
Ben nodded. ‘Oh, God, aye, almost certainly. But, whoever it is, they’ll start stepping into that role, too.
They’ll take on some of that responsibility.
Which is good. Because—and here’s the secret to being a DI in this team, son, so listen closely—managing crime scenes isn’t the point of your job.
Hell, solving murders isn’t the point of your job. ’
Ben pointed towards the station, roughly in the direction of the MIT Incident Room.
‘Your job is managing Jack Logan. And, believe me, that can be a full-time gig.’ He patted his stomach, right on the spot where a gunshot wound had almost ended him. ‘And, quite frankly, it should come with danger money.’
Hamza smiled, but it felt forced. ‘I don’t know…’
‘Jack brought me in to show you the ropes. If I’d been honest with him, I’d have told him the truth,’ Ben said. ‘There’s nothing I can teach you, son. There was never anything I could teach you. You’ve got this. You’re ready for it. You always have been.’
There was a crack in his voice. He quickly looked away, out of the side window, away from the station, away from his old life, and off in the direction of his new one. The café stood just beyond the car park, its grey slate roof just visible above a cluster of garages.
‘This was nice, though. Coming back like this,’ Ben said quietly. ‘But you don’t need me here. Not really. I should get back.’
Hamza reached a hand into his pocket.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ he said.
Ben turned back to the DI. Two Blue Ribband biscuits sat waiting in his hand.
‘You ask me, I think I’ve still got a whole lot to learn.’
Ben considered the offered biscuits for a few moments, then took one.
‘You’ll want to hang onto that for later. Long days like these, you’ll get an afternoon energy dip. There’s a wee hidey-hole in the bottom drawer of that desk where you can stash it away.’
‘Nice one. Can you show me?’
Ben peeled open the wrapper of his biscuit, took a thoughtful bite, then nodded.
‘No bother, son,’ he said. ‘Just you lead the way.’
Hamza started to move, then stopped.
‘One thing, though. That thing today. The press stuff, how come I never saw you doing that?’
‘Oh that? That’s easy,’ Ben told him. He chewed, swallowed, then shrugged. ‘I always just told them to shove it up their arse.’
Tyler was halfway across the car park, and had just waved to the approaching Hamza and Ben, when his phone rang.
‘It’s Sinead,’ he said for the benefit of Logan, who was marching ahead towards the station.
They slowed as they approached the front door, waiting for the current and former detective inspectors to catch up.
‘Wait, hold on. Another one?’ Tyler said. He met Logan’s eye and gave a nod that conveyed both nothing and everything. ‘Aye, we’re right outside. On the way up.’
He listened. Logan, Hamza, and Ben all waited.
Tyler covered the mouthpiece with his hand. ‘There’s been another body found, boss. A shooting this time, by the looks of it.’
‘Jesus. Where?’
‘Where?’ Tyler asked into the phone, then he hurried to keep up as Logan charged ahead into the station. ‘Out near Forres.’
He scurried across the foyer, hot on Logan’s heels. Hamza was striding along beside him, while Ben sauntered along at the back, smiling and waving at the officers and staff like he was some sort of visiting dignitary.
‘Delivery guy saw him through the kitchen window,’ Tyler said, relaying the information almost as soon as Sinead fed it down the line. ‘Complaints from the neighbours, too. Apparently, his dog had been barking all night.’
Tyler snapped to a stop just as they reached the foot of the stairs that led up to the floor above.
‘Wait, dog?’ he said. He pressed the phone more firmly to his ear. ‘What kind of dog?’