What Will Burn by James Oswald (latest novels to read .TXT) 📗

‘That wasn’t . . .’ McLean started, then stopped as he realised he wasn’t going to win that argument. He led the way into his office. ‘Doesn’t matter. It’s fascinating stuff, but probably irrelevant. There’s bugger all forensics, so we’re digging for motive. That’s why I had Grumpy Bob looking into the archives. Trouble is, she was such a recluse it’s hard to imagine her pissing off anyone. Not enough to do what they did to her, at least. I’m hoping her nephew might be able to shed some light, but I’m not holding out much hope. He’s not hardly rushed home at the news.’

‘That’s what I was hoping to talk to you about, actually. I wanted to catch you before you spoke to Lord Bairnfather. It’s only right you interview him, since you’re Senior Investigating Officer and he’d take offence if anyone of a lower rank did it. He’s aware that this is a murder investigation now, too. Just remember he’s rich and powerful and has the ear of many an influential politician. Your kind of person, Tony.’ McIntyre smiled wearily at the joke. ‘Oh, and he went to university with the chief constable. Apparently they were both in the Archery Club together, although I understand golf’s more their thing these days.’

Which would explain why McIntyre was looking for him and not, for instance, Detective Constable Stringer to pass the message on. The chief constable had spoken to her directly. Always bloody politics.

‘What do you want to do about this morning’s unexplained death?’ McLean asked before McIntyre could warn him to tread carefully. She looked slightly taken aback at the sudden change of subject, but rallied swiftly.

‘The site’s closed for now, I take it?’

‘Health and Safety have got it locked down while they investigate. Sandy Gregg’s co-ordinating with them.’

‘Good. She’s a safe pair of hands. Keep on top of it, at least until we’ve got the pathology report. Might get some of those new DCs to review any CCTV footage they can lay their hands on, too.’

McLean nodded. It was what he’d been going to do anyway. ‘It’s odd though, don’t you think? Two mysterious deaths in quick succession.’

‘You can’t possibly think there’s any link between the two, can you?’ McIntyre grimaced as if the mere thought of it were painful.

McLean shrugged. ‘Apart from the fact they’re both dead, no. But you know me and coincidences. Something doesn’t feel right. I need to work out what, and how.’

‘There’s no point my trying to stop you from ploughing your own furrow, Tony, so I won’t even try. But please keep an eye on the budgets while you’re at it, eh? And I don’t mean ask Grumpy Bob to do all the work for you.’ McIntyre walked to the door, but stopped before stepping out into the corridor. ‘Oh, and don’t forget the Safe Streets Committee function this evening. Gail’s very keen to get to know all the local civic dignitaries.’

McLean had been trying to forget about it, and might even have faced the wrath of the new chief superintendent by not turning up and instead coming up with some lame excuse like investigating the murder of a ninety-year-old woman. That McIntyre was reminding him meant that it would be much harder to duck out of the invitation.

‘Is it really that important I have to drop everything and try to be sociable?’

‘It is, Tony. Gail fought your corner with Professional Standards even though she knew nothing about you. The least you can do is pay her back by being helpful.’

McLean suppressed the protest he wanted to make, taking a moment to formulate his argument against the deputy chief constable’s request. But before he could come up with anything coherent, McIntyre had gone.

The pool car smelled like someone had been using it for a stakeout for the best part of a week, and hadn’t bothered to give it a clean once they were done with it. McLean had suggested they take his Alfa, but DS Harrison had been nowhere to be seen, and DC Blane wasn’t all that keen on driving it. He said nothing for the first ten minutes of the journey, concentrating on negotiating the traffic snarled up at Tollcross. McLean was happy for the chance to gather his thoughts and try to put some kind of order on the tumble of events that had made up the day so far.

‘Did you attend the building site scene with Harrison this morning?’ he asked, as they moved slowly past another, different housing development. Edinburgh seemed full of them, every last inch of space being pressed into creating yet more tiny apartments.

‘No, sir. Heard about it though. Sounded nasty. Poor bugger just walking along and bam!’ Blane hit the steering wheel with the heel of one hand, causing the car to swerve.

‘It’s possibly a bit more complicated than that.’ McLean explained what Harrison had told him about the scene and the unlikely manner in which the accident appeared to have happened. Blane said nothing for a while, weaving the car through a complicated series of back streets towards the old Kilmarnock road, presumably in some misguided attempt to avoid the worst of the traffic. McLean would have gone straight to the bypass and round, but he knew better than to suggest it.

‘That’s going to make our workload a bit of a nightmare, isn’t it?’ the detective constable observed. Blane had originally trained as an accountant, McLean remembered. How like him to cut through all the horror of a man being slowly and painfully crushed to death, and focus instead on the logistics. He wasn’t wrong, though.

‘We’ll manage. Hopefully. The new batch of DCs will help, even if we’ll need to keep an eye on them for a while. Talk about in at the deep end. Three suspicious deaths to investigate, one a full murder inquiry. Not exactly what I’d want my first week in the job.’

‘You think they’re linked, all three deaths?’ Blane echoed