‘Is that right?’ Winter knew it wasn’t the time or place to be pushing his luck but he was beyond that. Reason had opened the window, jumped out and run for its life.

Kelbie paused but set off again just as quickly, Ferry’s encouraging arm keeping him moving. Winter breathed hard and fast.

‘What is it with you, Tony? You got a death wish? You know what a turd Kelbie is.’

Winter turned his head to see one of the scene examiners, Paul Burke, standing beside him. ‘No death wish. There’s enough of that without me wanting more. I just couldn’t take any more of his crap.’

‘Right. Well maybe you should remember that he’s a DCI. And, if what I’m hearing is right, then your jacket is on a shoogly peg as it is.’

‘What are you hearing?’ As if he didn’t know.

‘That Baxter is gunning to get you made redundant and using the review to do it. Don’t give him any more ammunition, mate.’

If only you knew, Winter thought. If only you knew. ‘Yeah. I’ll try not to. Have you guys got anything else inside this place that needs photographed?’

Burke lifted his shoulders. ‘We’re running the rule over the whole building but it’s massive. They might have something on the upper levels but they’ll likely have photographed it themselves. We can point the camera in the right direction, you know.’

‘I know. I’ll go check it out anyway though. See if I can lend a hand.’

The truth was he couldn’t care less about helping out. The only job he cared about was lying amid the rubble. He had to get upstairs though and retrace his steps as best he could, at least enough to be able to say he’d been there if he was ever asked. If his DNA ever turned up somewhere it shouldn’t.

He made his way back up the concrete spiral and over the same floors as he had before, working his way between the white suits that were doing fine thanks without any help from him. This was a mess and he was in it right up to his neck and getting in even deeper.

Chapter 48

Narey didn’t need to be told that Gray Dunn was an urbexing site. Of course it would be. From the moment the name of the place was put to her, she knew. It was Rico Giannandrea who had picked up on the possibility of the connection and called her to flag it up.

‘. . . body found at Gray Dunn in Kinning Park. The old biscuit factory. It’s been abandoned for . . .’

It was all she heard and all she needed to know. Her mind was lost in a turmoil of possibilities, Rico’s words going unheard until a name jumped out from the shadows.

‘Remy Feeks.’

‘What? What did you say, Rico?’

‘There was ID on the body. A photo driver’s licence. The victim’s name is Remy Feeks.’

‘Shit.’

‘You know him?’

She slammed her hand against the desk and Rico must have heard it on the other side of the line.

‘Rachel? Ma’am?’

‘I don’t know him as such. I think he was the person who found Hepburn’s body in the Molendinar and phoned it in.’

‘Christ . . .’

‘I’m going to the factory. Phone them and let them know I’m on my way and I’m taking over. Phone DCI Addison for me as well, Rico. Thanks.’

She saw the cars and ambulances massed outside the building as soon as she turned into Stanley Street. The sight of the lights made her stomach turn over and the reality of it kicked in.

Her warrant card was in her hand the moment she’d locked the car door and she hurried to the tape and was glad to see uniforms on it that she recognized. They waved her through and she climbed into protective clothing as quickly as she could, scrambling to put on gloves, hat and overshoes.

Spotlights had already been rigged up and she stepped into their harsh glare, instantly taking in the stark desolation of the place. The lights threw macabre graffiti shadows onto the walls and made giants from broken stonework and twisted metal. It was like the factory was lying in wait for her.

Or maybe it had been waiting for Remy Feeks.

She saw a small army of forensics slipping by, upstairs and down, flitting across boulders and picking their way through debris. They were moving quickly but without a moment of rush. It was a measured haste that she’d seen a thousand times.

There were still two of them hunched, all but motionless, in the clearing left by the parting of the swarm of bodies in the central courtyard. She was suddenly struck by the bizarre thought of them all standing there like Wise Men and shepherds, the spotlight above the body leading her to it like a guiding star.

One of the shepherds looked over his shoulder, saw her approaching and spun on his heels towards her. Denny Kelbie looked like a man whose numbers had come up on the lottery when he’d forgotten to buy the ticket. He was furious as he stepped up into her face.

‘This is a piece of shit. It’s no way to run an investigation and you’re way out of your depth.’

‘Anything else, sir?’

The DCI clearly had plenty more he wanted to say but she was sure that the phone call he’d have received from Addison or perhaps even from higher up had left him in no doubt that he had no say in this any more. He spat on the ground at her feet and stormed off without another word. That suited her perfectly.

She walked over to stand above the two forensics working on the body and saw the kid stretched out beneath them. Fair hair and freckles, his face young and bloodless, and a railing puncturing his chest. It was as if someone had murdered the Milky Bar Kid.

The SOCOs became aware of her presence and looked up as one. She knew them both by sight, Keiran Hardie and Matt McGowan.

‘Give me a minute, guys, please.’

They both got to their feet without dissent and stepped back.

‘I take it photographs have been done?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ McGowan confirmed. ‘Tony Winter has been and gone. Probably left about twenty minutes ago. We told him you were on your way but he didn’t want to hang around. Said he was done.’

Something about that made her uneasy but she didn’t have the time or space in her head to debate it. The main thing was the job had been done. Now she had to do hers.

She could see something of the boy’s dad in his damaged features. This was Archie Feeks’ son, no doubt about it. A face without a lifetime of smoking or working in a shipyard, a face that wouldn’t grow any older.

Words came back to her. A promise. She’d been trained not to make promises she couldn’t keep but she’d still made this one. She’d told Archie that she’d look after his boy. Fine job she’d made of it.

Any doubts she might have had that it was Remy who’d found the body in the Molendinar had vanished. Just where it fitted into the whole mess wasn’t so clear though.

She glanced around and saw that Jim Ferry, Kelbie’s DS, hadn’t scarpered with his boss. She outranked him and she’d make use of the fact.

‘DS Ferry. What do we have?’

Ferry huffed theatrically but didn’t have much choice. He grudgingly filled her in. ‘Someone phoned 999 and said there was a body in here. That was all they gave. No name, no explanation as to how they knew. Uniforms were here in minutes and we followed on. We’ve searched the place, best we could in a maze like this, and there’s no one else here.’

‘The person that phoned, male or female?’

‘Male.’

She turned to McGowan and Hardie. ‘How long’s he been dead?’

‘We can’t . . .’

‘Best guess.’

‘Not much more than an hour.’

‘And how does that compare to the time of the 999 call?’