A Cool Head by Ian Rankin

Author:Ian Rankin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Crime, Fiction, Robbery, General, Friendship
ISBN: 9780752884493
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2009-02-19T01:51:32+00:00

Jane at the scrapyard

A trailer was delivering two cars when she arrived. They had been involved in a crash of some kind, bonnets crumpled, radiator grilles smashed, windscreens shattered. She had been to plenty of accidents in her time. It was one of the worst things about the job. She gave a little shiver as she followed the convoy into the yard. There were a couple of dogs barking nearby, but she couldn’t see them. All she could see were dead cars. But then a man emerged from one of the buildings. He was chewing on a cigar. There was a scowl on his face as he neared the car. He had a shaved head, and gold rings on his fingers. Jane got out to meet him.

‘I can smell bacon a mile off,’ he growled.

‘You must be Mr Renshaw?’

‘Haven’t seen you before.’

‘I’m DI Harris.’

‘Bit young.’ He looked her up and down. Another man had emerged from the same building. He wore torn jeans and a red tartan shirt. He gave Jane a little whistle as he walked towards a nearby crane.

‘I wonder if I can talk to Donald Empson,’ she told Renshaw.

‘He’s not here.’

‘Do you know where I could find him?’

‘At home, maybe.’

‘I’ve just come from there.’

Jane was staring at him. The nickname ‘Gorgeous’ was obviously a joke. He was one of the ugliest customers she’d ever met.

‘What’s this all about?’ he asked. He had moved the cigar to a corner of his mouth, and bit down hard on it.

‘A routine inquiry.’

Renshaw rolled his eyes. How many times had he heard the same line? The crane’s motor was coughing into life.

‘Will he be here later?’ Jane shouted over the noise.

Renshaw just shrugged.

‘Can I ask you what kind of car he drives?’

‘Isn’t that the sort of thing your computers can tell you?’

‘Easier if I ask you.’

‘That’s what you think.’ Renshaw gave a grin. Jane could feel that her phone was vibrating in her pocket. She took it out and held it to her ear, pushing a finger into her other ear to block out the noise. It was Bob.

‘Got some news,’ he said.

‘Go ahead.’

‘Door-to-door got lucky. They were talking to one of the neighbours and he asked them if they could do anything about the car that was blocking his skip. He’s got a lorry coming this morning and it needs space so it can haul the skip away.’

‘With you so far.’ Jane had turned away from Renshaw so she could concentrate on the call.

‘Well, the neighbour doesn’t recognise the car. It’s bright green, some sort of sports model. It’s legally parked, and most times we wouldn’t bother, but this particular team is sharper than most. They ran a check. Car belongs to Mr Benjamin Flowers.’

‘Don’t tell me you know him?’

‘I’m better than any computer, Jane, and I’m looking forward to that box of chocolates. Soft centres only, please.’

‘I’m on my way to buy them, just as soon as you tell me who he is.’

‘He’s known as Benjy. He’s Don Empson’s nephew.

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