Doors Open by Rankin Ian

Doors Open by Rankin Ian

Author:Rankin, Ian [Rankin, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: FIC000000
ISBN: 9780316071215
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2009-12-28T16:00:00+00:00


19

DI Ransome was seated at his desk in the empty CID suite when he heard the news. The radio had been providing him with background music and blather. It was some local station, mixing golden oldies with traffic and weather. Ransome had been in the office for a solid two hours, clearing an inch from his in-tray. He was due to appear in court three times over the next two weeks, and needed to bone up on his evidence. The amount of time cops—uniform and CID—wasted in the city’s sheriff and high courts was a scandal, and often, at the last minute, some plea deal was done, meaning they didn’t have to go into the witness box anyway. One officer he knew had earned himself an Open University degree, doing most of his studying and essay-writing while seated outside various courtrooms waiting to say his piece.

Ransome was spending an idle minute wondering what subject he would study, given the chance, when the radio DJ announced a “break-in at an industrial site in Granton.” Ransome had started to tune out until he heard the words “valuable artworks.” What the hell were those doing in a warehouse in Granton of all places? Holdings belonging to several city-based museums… staff and visitors threatened with guns… not known as yet which items are missing…

Artworks and guns.

Guns and artworks.

Ransome phoned Laura at the auction house, but there was no answer. Same story with her mobile. Cursing under his breath, he headed out to the car park. It took him only twenty minutes to reach Marine Drive. It was one of the things he liked about the city: nowhere was more than half an hour from anywhere else. Felt more like a village sometimes, which was why his mind was already turning. A warehouse heist, artworks stolen… and Edinburgh’s premier gangster having so recently started showing an interest in paintings. He remembered Calloway that day in the National Gallery, drinking tea with his old school pal Michael Mackenzie. Mackenzie the computer wizard, the art collector. They made an odd couple and no mistake…

The white Transit had been cordoned off with blue-and-white-striped crime-scene tape. Uniformed officers were diverting what traffic there was away from the immediate vicinity. A forensics team was busy at work, dusting surfaces, taking photos. A detective inspector called Hendricks seemed to be calling the shots, causing Ransome to wince a little as he got out of his car. He considered Hendricks a serious rival in the promotion stakes—same sort of age; good track record; personable and presenting himself well to public and top brass alike. He’d been in the same class as Ransome at Tulliallan Police College, more years ago now than Ransome cared to calculate. There had been a special challenge for all new recruits—raising money for charity. Despite Ransome’s best endeavors, Hendricks had won by a country mile, hosting a sportsmen’s dinner in Stirling and attracting a couple of high-profile footballers to the event as speakers. Only later did Ransome discover that Hendricks’ uncle was chairman of a Premier League club.



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