‘Oh for God’s sake.’ Logan moved onto the next budget requisition form: DI Bell wanting DNA analysis for a series of housebreakings. It went on the ‘possibly’ pile along with a request to set up a surveillance operation in Blackburn, looking for a cannabis farm, and one for a forensic archaeologist to consult on what might or might not be a body deposition site outside Fraserburgh.

‘What, I’m not good enough for you any more? I used to be the Robin to your Batman. The Rodney to your Del Boy. The Branston Pickle to your cheese on toast!’

Silence.

Logan stared at him. ‘Seriously? ’

‘The hate crimes aren’t Chalmers’s, they’re mine!’

‘The Robin to my Batman? ’

He shrugged one shoulder. ‘I couldn’t get back to sleep. Just lay there thinking about all the ways you were screwing me over with this bloody Chalmers woman.’

‘No, but seriously: Robin? ’

‘It’s not fair.’

Logan shook his head. ‘I hate to disappoint you, Rennie, but we’re not a gay couple, OK? And I’m not screwing you over with Chalmers.’

The other shoulder came up, making him look like a grumpy teenager. ‘Well . . . that’s how it feels.’

Logan sat back, drummed his fingers on the desktop. ‘Tell you what, find me some bloody suspects and you can be the favourite again. And while we’re at it: what’s happening with your shoplifting tramps? ’

‘It’s. . .’ He wriggled in his seat. ‘It’s not as easy as you’d—’

The door clunked open and Steel stood there, one hand hauling up her trousers, the other plucking the electronic cigarette from her mouth. She narrowed her eyes, making everything all wrinkly. ‘What are you pair of dinks doing here? ’

Logan pointed across the desk. ‘Poor wee Rennie’s feeling all unloved and unappreciated. So he’s come in early to moan about it.’

‘Oh aye, and what’s your excuse? ’

‘Doing your paperwork.’

She smiled, both arms extended as if she was waiting to be crucified. ‘Then all is forgiven. Now grab your coat – we’re going out.’

Logan stood. ‘Another body? ’

Steel frowned. ‘No: pub. Why does it always have to be work, work, work with you? ’ She slapped Rennie on the back of the head. ‘Arse in gear, Stinky, you’ve got tramps to find.’

Rennie grumbled his way out of the chair, then out of Logan’s office.

She waited till he’d shut the door behind him. Then collapsed into the vacant chair. ‘We’re screwed.’

‘What’s wrong this time? Did. . .’ Logan sat down again. ‘Hold on, if you thought I wasn’t here, why did you barge in? ’

She dug a hand down her cleavage and went rummaging. ‘You were here.’

‘Yeah, but you didn’t know that.’

Rummage, rummage. ‘My underwire’s killing us. I keep telling Susan, you’ve no’ to put them in the washing machine, but will she listen? ’

‘Answer the question.’