The magpies were back, perching on the roof of the caravan opposite. Heads bobbing and weaving as they stared down at him. Waiting for him to do something exciting. Well, they were in for a long wait. Cheeky wee buggers.

Sim peeled off her safety goggles; the glasses underneath were all steamed up. She pulled the facemask out and let it dangle on its elastic around her neck. Her whole face glistened. ‘I’ve been through them a dozen times. If they were there, they’ve gone now.’ Then the hood came off. Her bun had disintegrated into a frizzy clump. ‘Jeepers, it’s hot in here.’

Jeepers?

‘You’re a weirdo, you know that, don’t you, Sim? ’

‘Maybe. . .’ She frowned, then unzipped the front of her suit and cleaned her glasses on the black police-issue T-shirt underneath. Popped them back on. ‘Anyone round here got a dog? ’

‘The Dawsons in three have got a border terrier, and the McNeils in seven have a yorkie. Not exactly the place for Alsatians and St Bernards.’

‘Well, dogs might have eaten. . .’

A raucous cackle sounded from the caravan roof. Then one of the magpies hopped off the edge and swooped up onto the tree behind her. More laughter.

Sim stared up into the tree. ‘Is that a nest? ’

Logan peeled off his own hood. ‘Little sods sit up there and giggle at each other from about five in the morning. Like Waldorf and Statler.’

She walked over to it, jumped a couple of times for the lower branch, then stomped her foot. The perils of being short. ‘Oh . . . poop.’ She waved at him. ‘Give us a leg-up.’

‘Seriously, you think the magpies nicked them? ’

‘Well, if the ribbons are shiny, why not? ’ She peeled off the blue plastic bootees. Looked at him.

Why not. He linked his hands together and gave her a boost.

She clambered up him like a drunken chimpanzee, until she was standing on the lowest branch. Then up onto the next one. And the one above that.

Logan stepped back. ‘When you fall and break your neck I’m going to tell everyone I told you not to do this.’

‘If you like, we can go back to the station, have a threat-assessment meeting, come up with a health-and-safety plan, hire some scaffolding, get someone qualified to erect it, someone else to inspect it, and then—’

‘Just don’t fall off.’

She reached up and grabbed the branch with the nest on it.

The magpie bounced up and down, hurling abuse as Sim pulled herself up and peered into the nest.

‘Anything? ’

‘Some bottle tops, a set of car keys, bit of tinsel, and an earring.’

‘Bones? ’

‘Sorry, Guv.’ She turned and looked down at him. ‘Looks as if. . .’ Her eyes went wide. ‘Jeepers!’

There she went again: jeepers, like something out of Scooby-Doo. ‘What? ’