McLean 02 - Book of Souls by James Oswald

Author:James Oswald [Oswald, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2013-01-17T05:00:00+00:00

38

The station was as quiet as a church at prayer when McLean arrived none too early on Christmas morning. He felt slightly sick, though whether that was from too much beer or the shock of seeing his burnt-out flat he couldn’t tell. Either way, it wasn’t enough to keep him from work.

If he thought he felt bad, then DC MacBride looked ten times worse. McLean found the detective constable slumped at his desk, staring bleary-eyed at the screen of his laptop.

‘Morning, constable. Happy Christmas.’ McLean kept his voice reasonably quiet, but still the young man winced at the noise.

‘What’s so happy about it, sir?’

McLean considered this for a moment, then said: ‘Good point.’ He pulled up a chair from the next desk and sat down beside the detective constable.

‘I thought you were going home after the pub last night.’

MacBride turned his head slowly, his pale forehead sheened with sweat. ‘So did I, sir, but Kir ... Detective Sergeant Ritchie invited us back to her place. Said she had a bottle of tequila needed finishing. I didn’t realise she hadn’t actually started it yet.’

McLean didn’t know whether to feel aggrieved or grateful at being left out of the impromptu party, but before he had time to mull it over much, the door to the CID room banged open and the object of his indecision walked in carrying a tray of coffees. As ever, she was neatly presented; if she’d been on the slammers herself it didn’t show.

‘Oh, sir, you’re in already. Happy Christmas.’ Ritchie smiled and put the tray down on her desk. There was a greasy paper bag too, and McLean wondered where on earth she’d found a place open to buy breakfast. Or had she made them herself and brought them in? When she opened it up, filling the air with the smell of recently fried bacon, he didn’t really much care.

‘Please tell me you brought enough of those for everyone,’ he said.

‘It’s all right, sir. You can have mine.’ MacBride paled as Ritchie approached bearing bag and coffee.

‘Thanks.’ McLean took the proffered booty, turning away from MacBride so as to ease the lad’s discomfort. ‘Is Grumpy Bob in yet?’

‘Aye, he’s down in the canteen rounding up constables with DC Johnson. Thought we’d better make a start.’ Ritchie went back to her desk and picked up a sheaf of papers. ‘I’ve broken the list up into two. Those who would have had regular access to the file store where the keys were held, and those who just work in the office.’

McLean scanned the first list, grateful that it wasn’t as long as he’d expected.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘We’ll split up into teams. One detective and one uniform to each. With a bit of luck, we should be able to get through them all before lunch.’

‘What if they’re not in?’ Ritchie asked.

‘Then we’ll try again tomorrow.’

‘And if they’re pissed off at us for spoiling their Christmas?’ This time it was MacBride, clutching a cup of steaming coffee and breathing in the fumes.

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