“If you’ve got a signal, aye,” Logan said. “Our phone is in use. Important polis business.”
“Well… no. Of course, I don’t have a signal. Nobody has a signal!” Oberon protested.
“Ah well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I hear it’s a lovely walk,” Logan said. He opened the front door and stood aside, clearing the way for the MSP to leave.
“It’s miles! I can’t be expected to—”
“Do us both a favour, Mr Finley-Lennox,” Logan said. He wasn’t smiling, exactly, but he wasn’t not smiling, either. “Get the Freedom UK out of this station.”
The not-quite-smile became a fully-fledged grin then. It showed too many teeth, and drew a little cheep of fear from the politician.
“You’ll be hearing from my solicitor,” Oberon squeaked, scuttling through the open door.
“Aye, well, maybe let him know you’re facing six months and an unlimited fine. He might want to prioritise that,” Logan said.
Then, before the other man could reply, he closed the door, turned back to the audience of detectives who’d been pretending not to be watching and listening to the entire exchange, and graciously accepted their applause.
Even Taggart, who had been lying under what passed for the reception desk, thumped his tail against the floor in approval.
“Do you know?” Logan began, shrugging off his coat. “I thoroughly enjoyed that.”
“I think we all did, sir,” Hamza said.
“It was his face I enjoyed the most,” Sinead said. “The way it sort of collapsed when you mentioned his wife taking the photos to the papers.”
There was some general agreement that this had indeed been a particularly good bit.
“Right. Anyway. We got an update or what?” the DCI asked, getting them back on track.
“Big Board’s all ready,” Sinead informed him.
“Good. Let’s go over that, then.” He pointed to DC Neish. “Tyler, go make tea,” he said, then he turned and headed for what currently served as the Incident Room.
“How about you make your own tea, you big arsehole?”
Logan stopped.
Three gasps of shock rang out in the silence. Three pairs of eyes deftly darted in the DC’s direction.
Under the table, Taggart lay very still, sensing the change of pressure in the room that suggested an oncoming storm.
Despite all this, Tyler stood his ground.
To start with, anyway. That soon changed once Logan turned on the spot to face him.
“Was that… Was that too far?” he asked, his voice a dry croak.
“What do you think, son?” Logan intoned.
Tyler swallowed. “I think… I think maybe I’ll go make the tea, boss.”
“I think that’s a very wise decision,” the DCI agreed.
Tyler rallied slightly. “But, just so we’re clear, I’m only doing it because I want to. Not because you said.”
“You tell yourself whatever you need to tell yourself, Detective Constable,” Logan replied. “Everyone else, Incident Room. Now. Let’s get this thing wrapped up.”
“Right you are, Jack,” Ben said, following along behind. “By the way, has anyone heard from Dave this morning?”
It was a common complaint, Dave Davidson was assured. That much sun, on an area that had previously seen so little? A touch of sunburn was always going to be a danger. But the discomfort would pass. The main thing was that he had opened himself up to a life-changing experience—literally—and his Hui Yin would never be the same again.
In hindsight, he quite liked his old Hui Yin, he thought. The Hui Yin whose itchiness wasn’t driving him up the wall, and which didn’t elicit a little yelp of pain every time he broke wind.
The accident that had left him wheelchair bound had robbed him of his strength below the waist, but not of all sensation. Previously, this was something he’d been happy about. Today, not so much.
It wasn’t something he’d generally given much thought to over the years, his arse, but he was regretting that now. He felt he hadn’t appreciated it properly. It had just sort of been there, steadfastly doing its duties, day in, day out, never complaining too much.
It had certainly never flaked before. Of all the medical complaints he had ever suffered from—and there had been plenty—a flaky arsehole had never been one that had so much as crossed his mind.
Fifteen minutes flat on his back in a field had put paid to that. Now, the flakiness of the region in question was pretty much the only thing he could think about.