The Book of Souls (Inspector McLean #2)(59)

‘Aye, we got that, sir. Not sure what we can do about it right now.’

‘Why the hell not? You should be tracking this guy down.’

The younger of the two constables looked sheepish, but the older – Cameron or something – obviously had more backbone.

‘With respect, sir, we’re not exactly working at full capacity here. You know what happens to the shift patterns at this time of year.’

It hit him like a physical blow to the stomach. As if a little bubble of excitement had grown in his brain, swelling up until it burst and took out most of his reasoning with it. Somehow McLean managed to find his way to a chair, to sink down onto it before his legs gave way. There was nothing in the constable’s words that should have affected him so, but he felt like he was suddenly back there on the landing outside his flat, clasping his knees to his chest, leaning against the cold, stone wall as the night sky trundled by overhead. And he was in the flat itself, years earlier, clutching the sides of the wide open window, staring down at the pavement far below, wondering if the fall was enough to end it all, end the gnawing empty pain that was all he knew. And he was kneeling in the slow-moving, ice-cold water, slime-covered rocks hard against his uncaring knees, oblivious to the explosions of light overhead that heralded the dawn of a new millennium, conscious only of the stiff body clasped to his sodden chest.

‘Are you all right, sir?’

The voice of the older constable, definitely Cameron. Martin Cameron, that was it. Solid policeman, reliable. Should have made sergeant by now.

‘Sir?’

McLean looked up, took a deep breath to try and steady himself. The two constables were standing now, moving in slow motion around their desks as they came towards him. Another voice echoed their concern, only this one was behind him.

‘Tony? What on earth are you doing in here?’

He looked around, vision blurring at the edges. Move more slowly. Can’t quite understand what’s happening. What’s the chief superintendent doing in today?

‘Ma’am.’ McLean tried to stand up, but found his legs reluctant to comply.

‘You look like death warmed over, Inspector McLean. What’s going on here, constable?’ The chief superintendent’s focus switched away from him for only an instant. McLean tried to pull himself together and wondered idly whether this was what having a panic attack felt like.

‘We were just discussing a new lead in the case, ma’am. The detective inspector has a positive ID for one of the gang growing drugs in the Newington flat.’

‘Excellent, I’m sure the DCI will be delighted when he gets back from his break.’ McIntyre’s eyes locked on McLean’s, almost ordering him to stay where he was. She didn’t alter her gaze as she added, ‘Constables, could you give us a moment. I’m sure the incident room won’t be inundated with calls if you go and grab a bite of lunch.’

They didn’t need to be told twice. The door slammed shut as two pairs of feet legged it down the corridor, hopeful for roast turkey and trimmings. McIntyre’s gaze followed the sound of their departure echoing down the long wall of the incident room, then she laid a motherly hand on McLean’s forehead. It felt cold and dry to him. ‘What happened just now? Tony, you’re burning up.’

‘Just came over a little light-headed.’ McLean moved away from her touch. He was glad she’d sent the constables away, but he held little hope that his strange collapse wouldn’t be common knowledge throughout the station before the day was out. ‘Not sure why, really.’

‘Would it have anything to do with the hour and a half you spent in your old home last night, by any chance?’

McLean looked up at the chief superintendent, astonished. ‘How’d ... ?’

‘DCI Duguid has had a team watching that flat around the clock ever since the fire. It’s a waste of bloody time, if you ask me, but I have to let my detectives run their own investigations. They saw you arrive and called it in. Duguid’s gone to Canada for the whole festive season, and everyone else was out on the lash, so it came to me. I told them to leave you alone, only to go in if you’d not come back out again in two hours.’

McLean couldn’t think of anything to say. He was recovering quickly now, the momentary dizziness passed, but McIntyre’s detailed knowledge of his movements astonished him. She pulled up a chair and sat down beside him.

‘I can’t begin to know what you’re going through, Tony. You lost everything in that fire. All your links to the past. That’s got to be as bad as losing a parent.’

‘I’m fine. Honestly. It was just a ... I don’t know. I just felt a little light-headed. Got up too quickly. You know how it is.’

‘Now I know you’re lying to me. Look, it’s not a sign of weakness to be overwhelmed every once in a while. You’ve got a lot going on, too much really. I should never have let you take on the Audrey Carpenter case, let alone Kate McKenzie. Not now we’ve got the Anderson link.’

‘Anderson’s dead and buried. He’s gone.’

‘Not up here, he isn’t.’ McIntyre reached forward and tapped McLean gently on the forehead. ‘He’s still alive there. And especially so at this time of year. I don’t even need Matt’s interim report to tell me that. You think I haven’t noticed you’re always pulling the Christmas and Hogmanay shifts?’