Her mother shook her head. ‘We don’t allow her to drive. Not on her medication – it wouldn’t be safe.’

Agnes’s dad bent and picked up the bits of broken mug from the floor. ‘What if she’s hurt herself? ’

Logan slipped the evidence bag into his pocket. ‘The fact that Anthony Chung is missing too means they’ve probably run away together. Let’s not get all worked up over nothing.’ He turned towards the door. Then stopped. ‘Now before we go, is there anything else you’re not telling us? ’

Chapter 11

11

Chalmers pulled away from the kerb as Logan fastened his seatbelt. Her mouth was one thin line, tiny wrinkles standing out at the side of her eye. Face fixed dead front.

Logan turned his phone on. ‘I take it there’s a reason you’re sulking? ’

‘I’m not sulking, sir.’

‘Come on then, out with it.’

Her jaw twitched a couple of times, as if she was biting down on something bitter. ‘With all due respect: you sent me off to make tea while you were searching the cupboard under the stairs. The little woman makes the tea while the big strong man does the actual police work.’ She wrenched the steering wheel left, taking them out the end of the road. ‘Let me guess: you didn’t think my pretty little head was up to it. Making the bloody tea’s all we’re good for.’

‘I see.’ He scrolled through his list of contacts until the number for Control appeared. ‘Feel better now? ’

‘It’s sexist.’

‘Seriously? ’ A smile broke across his face, then bloomed into a grin. ‘I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to go make tea with the grieving relatives while Steel’s off rummaging through their stuff. That’s what happens when you’re a DS: you’re the distraction.’ He hit the button, listening to it click, then ring on the other end. ‘And when you make DI, you can get your own back on whatever poor sod gets lumbered with you. . .’

A woman’s voice boomed in his ear. ‘Control room.’

‘Yeah, it’s DI McRae, have you picked up—’

‘Hold on. . .’ A pause. Some rustling. Then a muffled conversation. ‘Yeah, it’s him again. Wants to know if we’ve got the big ugly bloke that works for Wee Hamish yet.’

‘Hasn’t he got nothing better to do? ’

‘You’d think, wouldn’t you? ’

‘I can hear you, you know!’

And she was back, full volume. ‘Just checking now, sir.’

Click. Then a creaky version of some waltz. He was on hold.

Chalmers took them out onto the main road, heading back past yet another building site. The whole place was a breeding ground for sandstone-clad little boxy homes with tiny gardens and garages too small to get an actual car in.