The Book of Souls (Inspector McLean #2)(29)

McLean didn’t much fancy getting into a shouting match with Duguid, certainly not with his throat still as sore as it was. So instead he set off in search of Grumpy Bob. The detective sergeant found him first.

‘Didn’t expect to see you today, sir. How the hell are you?’

‘I’m fine, Bob, thanks.’ McLean coughed and his lungs spasmed in pain. ‘Well, near enough. Can’t say the same for my neighbour though.’

‘Aye, I heard about that. Poor bastard. Still, the doctors reckon he just died in his sleep. I guess that’s better than being burned to death.’

‘Have you been to the site?’

‘I was there this morning, soon as I got in. It’s a mess all right. Tried your mobile, but it’s going straight to message.’

McLean slapped the pockets of his grandfather’s suit, trying to remember which one he’d put his phone in. He found it, pulled it out and peered at the screen. Something inside appeared to have melted, and now he thought about it, he couldn’t actually remember using the thing since he’d called the emergency services the night before.

‘Looks like I’m due an upgrade, Bob. Just one more thing to add to the shopping list. Listen, do you know where Dagwood is right now?’

‘Up in the main incident room, I think. He’s got everyone working on tracking down the tenants, but they’re having a hard enough time finding out who the landlord is.’

‘So he’s not on site. What about SOC? They been allowed in yet?’

‘I’m not sure. We could always go and find out.’

‘Just what I was thinking. Grab us a pool car. I’ll meet you out front in ten minutes. Need a cup of tea first; my throat’s killing me.’

‘Ha! That’s a tenner the lad owes me.’ Grumpy Bob grinned as they both set off along the corridor. ‘He didn’t reckon you’d show up today at all.’

The canteen didn’t serve the best tea in the world, but right then, McLean didn’t much care. He just needed something to soothe the burning sensation in his throat. Perhaps he’d been wrong to ignore the doctor’s pleading and sign himself out.

‘There you are, McLean. Don’t you ever answer your bloody phone?’

McLean swung around lazily in his seat, and didn’t bother to stand. Duguid wasn’t worth the effort on a good day, and this wasn’t remotely that.

‘I’m afraid my phone’s buggered, sir. Something melted in last night’s fire and I haven’t had a chance to get a replacement yet.’

‘Yes, well,’ Duguid pulled out a chair and dropped himself into it. ‘About that. It’s a serious business, you know. There we are searching the whole of the city like we haven’t got a clue, and all the time they’re right on your bloody doorstep.’

‘Thank you, sir, I’m fine. Apart from a bit of a sore throat and the fact that all my worldly goods and possessions have just gone up in smoke.’

Duguid looked momentarily embarrassed before his natural anger swelled to the fore, reddening the pale, freckled skin under his wiry hair.

‘You’re obviously fit to work, or you wouldn’t be here. What I’d like to know is what you’re doing sitting here drinking tea when Chief Superintendent McIntyre quite clearly told you I wanted to see you.’

‘I’m sorry, sir. She didn’t tell me it was urgent. She did tell me I should take some time off, but I thought I’d have a cup of tea and grab a few things before heading out.’

‘You know what they’re saying, McLean?’ Duguid’s anger was never a good thing to provoke, but right then McLean really didn’t care.

‘No, sir, please enlighten me.’

‘They’re saying you knew damn well what was going on next door. You were protecting them.’

McLean put down his mug, pushing it away from him and towards the DCI. He got up, scraping his chair legs on the floor as he placed it carefully back under the table. Duguid looked at him, as if expecting him to reply, so McLean leant down, settling his knuckles onto the Formica either side of the mug and bending close, whispering so that only Duguid could hear him.

‘You really are an idiot, sir,’ he said. Then walked away.





21





Grumpy Bob wasn’t the only one in the pool car as McLean clambered into the passenger seat; DC MacBride was sitting behind the wheel and the old sergeant had taken up residence in the back.

‘Nice suit, sir,’ MacBride said as he piloted the car into the afternoon traffic flow.

‘Don’t you start, constable. It was my grandfather’s. And very fashionable in its time.’

‘And today, sir. Mate of mine’s just had something similar made up. Cost him a fortune.’

‘Well, if he can get into this one, he can have it as a spare. It’s bloody uncomfortable.’ McLean shifted in his seat, trying not to think about the seam that was wearing away at his privates. No wonder his grandad had only managed to father the one child.

It took a long time to reach the area where his flat had been, and as they approached it, McLean could see why. The whole street had been cordoned off, blocking a major route out of the city. Not far away, traffic was backed up by the one-way system still in place after the Woodbury building had burned down. One more fire and the whole south city would grind to a halt.