Dark Blood Read Free Page A

again?’
    ‘Three days later, the old boy turns up at the local library, still in his jammies, gabbling on about how he’s been abducted by aliens. Course, everyone knows he’s got Alzheimer’s, you know what I’m saying? So they pat him on the head and get someone to drive him home. Only he keeps going on about how the aliens took him to their underground lab and did experiments on him. Anal probes and all that.’
    Danby sniffed, one hand wrapped around the grab handle above the passenger door, staring out of the window. ‘So finally his sister calls the doctor and he examines the old man, doesn’t he? You know what?’
    Knox cleared his throat. ‘You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Spoiling things for us.’
    ‘Just making conversation.’
    ‘Well don’t. It’s not funny.’
    ‘Suit yourself.’ The DSI went back to staring at the drab, grey scenery. On a good day, Aberdeen sparkled…but this wasn’t a good day. The granite buildings sulked beneath the heavy clouds, their grey walls stained dark by the never-ending drizzle. Headlights shimmered back from the wet road, taillights glowering red through a haze of spray.
    DI Steel flicked on the radio, breaking the silence. Annie Lennox – Aberdeen’s favourite local-girl-made-good – singing about walking on broken glass. The song ended, there was some banal chat from a DJ who obviously thought he was alot funnier than he actually was, another record, and then the news.
    ‘London grinds to a halt as snowstorms grip England. The A96 is closed between Inverurie and Huntly following a five-car pile-up. McLennan Homes announce jobs boost for the beleaguered North East building industry. And a legal challenge is launched today against a proposed expansion to Donald Trump’s golf resort. Hi, I’m Karen MacDonald. Today the Balmedie Dunes Preservation Society confirmed it would be issuing a legal challenge…’
    PC Guthrie snorted. ‘How come every time there’s half a millimetre of snow, England goes tits up? What a bunch of wanky…’ He drifted to a halt, DSI Danby had swivelled round in the passenger seat to stare into the back of the patrol car.
    ‘Er…’ The constable’s cheeks went pink. ‘I mean…it’s…’ He looked at Logan. ‘We…’
    Logan shook his head. ‘No chance: you’re on your own, Sunshine.’
    Idiot.
    ‘Come on then, Constable,’ Danby’s voice rumbled through the confined space, ‘you have something to say: let’s hear it.’
    ‘I just…it…erm…’ Cough. ‘With the snow, and it’s probably, you know, unexpected, and the councils don’t grit the roads…’ He wriggled in his seat. ‘Got nothing against the English. Got lots of mates who’re English…’
    Danby looked at him. ‘How long you been in the force?’
    Guthrie licked his lips. ‘Erm…Seven years?’
    ‘Take a tip, Constable, if you ever want to make sergeant, practice your lying. Cos right now you’re crap. You know what I’m saying?’

4
    Grampian Police Force Headquarters was a lot busier at five to nine on a Thursday morning than it had any right to be. By now the CID dayshift should have been out there, keeping the city safe from the people who lived in it; instead they were hanging around the station, making the place look untidy. Logan picked his way carefully down the corridor, two coffees and a pair of tinfoil parcels balanced on a manila folder like a wobbly tray.
    DI Steel’s office was the last one before the noisy main CID room. Logan stopped outside her door and carefully rearranged his hands so he could knock without spilling scalding liquid all over himself.
    Only he didn’t get that far.
    Someone coughed behind him, and Logan turned to find Detective Inspector Beattie standing there with his arms folded. ‘Weren’t you supposed to come see me first thing this morning, Sergeant?’
    Sodding hell. DI Beattie: sixteen stone of useless with a beard.
    ‘Had to go pick up Richard Knox.’
    Beattie looked down at the