Logan counted the points off on his fingers: ‘Robbie Whyte had form; he was connected to the film through Nichole Fyfe; he was off his head; he used to dump stolen cars at the Joyriders’ Graveyard. And he killed his own dog. What was I supposed to think? ’

‘Oh, I don’t know . . . how about: did he actually kill anyone? ’

‘I’ve got the uniforms stationed at the hospital checking with the nurses on the oncology ward, and going over the security-camera footage. Maybe he left his dying mum’s bedside for long enough to necklace Roy Forman and torture whoever the Kintore victim is? ’

‘Aye, and maybe my bumhole squirts rainbows and pixie dust.’

Logan scowled at her. ‘You know, you’re getting more like Finnie every day. The sarcastic motivational speeches, the fishing for info, the rummaging through people’s desks. . .’

Steel’s eyes bugged. ‘You take that back: I’m nothing like that frog-faced, rubbery-lipped goat-molester!’

‘Look at Rennie. He’s doing his best, and you’re . . . what, trying to make him cry? You’re supposed to mentor—’

‘I’m way nicer than—’

‘He’s talking about resigning. That what you want? ’

‘Pfff. . .’ She had a dig at her underwire, making the wrinkly cleavage wriggle and jiggle. ‘I’m doing him a favour. Either he can handle the pressure, or he can’t. Better to find out now – while someone else can still fix it for him – instead of later when some poor sod ends up dead ’cos Rennie’s no’ up to the job.’ Another dig, then she gave up on her bra and tilted her head back, looking down her nose at Logan. ‘Besides, never did you any harm, did it? ’

‘Yeah,’ keeping his voice flat and level, ‘you’re such a saint.’

‘You looking for a clip round the lug? ’ She took a long draw on her electronic cigarette. Narrowed her eyes. ‘And how come you’ve done nothing about that deid body on your roof yet? ’

‘Not my case; you gave it to Ding-Dong.’

‘That’s no excuse! Have some pride in your caravan park, man. Your roof, your skeleton, your responsibility.’

‘So approve the facial reconstruction. Worked for Roy Forman, didn’t it? ’

She squirmed in her seat. ‘You got any idea what they’re doing to the CID budget, it’s—’

‘Then don’t come moaning to me when we can’t make any progress. You want a result? Fund the investigation properly.’

A scowl. ‘See: you and the boy Rennie moan and whine at me all the time, but you’re no’ the ones stuck in here with the ACC breathing down your neck like a creepy uncle. . .’ She poked the desk with a yellowed finger. ‘And another thing: how come your mother keeps calling about taking Jasmine away to Sodding Euro Sodding Disney? I told you to have a word.’

‘If you don’t give Rennie a break, I’m going to give her your mobile number.’