– I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow you, Ray says.

Fuckin auld spasticworks. You’ve got to give it to Ray Lennox though; ice cool in such situ’s, an auld heid on young shoulders.

– But it was here. It was here! she’s asserting. Ravelston Dykes. Money talks. Tick tock tick tock. Used to getting their own way. Those tones I know so well. But I’m a servant of the state. I’m in the business of law enforcement. Same rules apply.

I take a deep breath and look her in the eye. She’s feeble, frightened and isolated in spite of her wealth. The dominant photo of the husband on the marble fireplace. Top tin sodjir. A wee bit rusty though, aw the more set off by the splendour of the frame. You can see cancer written all over him. A recent photo. She’s still in shock, still vulnerable. – I want you to fully understand what you are saying to me here Mrs Dornan.

She looks like a cow being herded into an abattoir. Just at that point where they know that something is up and that it’s not good news. Ten-ti-ten-ten . . . ten-ti-ten-ten-ten . . .

– You’re telling me that the paperweight was here after the appointed burglary, but has subsequently appeared to be missing, this coinciding with the appearance of the investigating officers, namely ourselves. I want you to be crystal clear about this.

– Well . . . yes . . . I mean . . .

I move over to the window and look out into the garden. I notice that the Escort I clocked is still there. The one which looked semi-abandoned. Semi-abandoned? What the fuck in the name of Jesus Christ almighty is that? Some cunt’s Jackie Trent here and nae mistake. I clear my throat and turn back to the ancient cow. – I want you to concentrate Mrs Dornan. I want you to be absolutely sure about what you’re saying and the implications of it. Now you’ve had a bad shock, I lecture her. – Having an intruder in your home: not very pleasant. I want you to be sure about what you mean before I consider the ramifications. This means initiating a second tier of the investigation, implicating the officers who came here to investigate this burglary. I nod towards Ray and then glance down at my own chest. – The same rules have to apply in each and every case. What I’m saying to you is: are you sure that the paperweight was not taken in the original burglary?

Ray comes over at this point, for a bit of back up. – I think we’re jumping the gun a bit here D.S. Robertson.

– Well D.S. Lennox, the lady seems to be concerned about this paperweight and perhaps a little confused about what was actually taken during the burglary.

– Yes . . . I mean . . . she stammers.

– She seems to feel it vanished during our investigation, I give a slightly rueful expression. Ray still plays it deadpan.

– I didn’t say . . . the old cow whines.

– I think the best thing would be if we turned out our pockets, D.S. Robertson, Ray laughs in mild impatience.

– No! I didn’t mean . . . I don’t think that you took it, not for a minute . . . she bleats, all embarrassed. That was the mistake you silly old fucker.

Ray gives a practised, tired shake of the head. – What I’d like to suggest . . .

I cut in. This cow’s irritated me. I want sport. – I don’t think you quite understand what the lady’s saying D.S. Lennox. She’s claiming that the paperweight vanished after the investigating officers arrived, I point at myself and then at him. – The inference is that the investigating officers have expropriated this property.

I curse inwardly, that was a mistake using the term expropriated. Stolen would have been better, for obvious reasons.

– I didn’t mean that . . . the dopey cow apologises. She’s buckling inwards, shrinking like a crisp packet flung into a pub fire, diminishing before it combusts. She’ll be offering us financial compensation for upsetting us soon. Keep backpedalling you old spazwit. I’m savouring this.

– If I could proceed with my suggestion, Ray says, his tone practical, – I think that you should go through the inventory again. List the lot, make sure that nothing’s left out.

My pager goes. It’s control. Fuck me, Toal wants me. – Excuse me, I smile. I point to the phone. – May I? I dial his direct line. I’m only half listening to him, I’m half turned in to Ray’s performance, which I’m enjoying very much.      – Total speaking . . .      – Are you asking me or telling me?      – It’s D.S. Robertson.      – Well, I . . .      – Bruce, good. I’m needing you on this murder case. Busby’s put another note in long-term sick. We’re stretched to our limit.      – I want to be clear about this Mrs Dornan; are you asking me or telling me?      – I see.      – It’s just that . . .

Toal is getting uppity. The bastard’s always resented my pull with the lads; my status as Federation rep, but also the fact that I’m more prominent in the craft than he’ll ever be. That’s what cuts the ice with the boys in the canteen, not fucking name, rank or serial number. The basic fact of it is that nobody tells me what to do. I’m listening to Toal rabbiting on about this wog being topped and I’m thinking: fucking great! Another one bites the dust, and then I’m thinking of my forthcoming winter’s week’s holiday in Amsterdam and my favourite hoors d’oeuvres and I’m thinking of two vibrators, one up her arse and one up her cunt. The technology of love, deployed on a massive scale. I’ve got a semi; I’ve got a semi and I’m talking to Toal! – The last thing we need now’s a stiff, Toal sniffs. – Evening News got it yet? Right up her fuckin hole. – Not so far. – So why the hassle? It’s just a nigger. Not exactly a shortage of them, is there? I joke. – Listen, I don’t want any canteen culture bullshit on this investigation. I want you briefed properly by Lennox, he snaps. Toal is known for having no sense of humour. He’s taking this equal opps bullshit too far. – What about Lennox doing it? I whisper, – He was first on the scene.       – I understand how terrible this is, Mrs Dornan. Especially with something so valuable to you. – I was sure it was there though. I could have sworn! – That’s what I always find, Mrs Dornan. Sometimes when the thing that you want most to be there is away, you can’t believe it, so you do actually visualise it there in your mind’s eye. A classic shock reaction. Burglary can be very traumatic. It might be an idea to call your GP. Shall I do that now? – Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m making such a fuss . . . – Make out the inventory Mrs Dornan. I think that’s the best move . . . – I can’t take Ray off DS, he’s close to busting these suppliers at that Sunrise Community. Besides, he doesn’t have your homicide experience – I think you’re forgetting something. I’m on my winter’s week brek in just over one week’s time.       – Yes . . . I’ll do that . . . I’m so sorry officer . . . eh . . . – Lennox ma’am, D.S. Lennox.

There’s a short silence on the other end of the phone. My heart misses a beat. I feel as if I’m listening for the first time.

– All leave is suspended for Serious Crimes personnel, there’s a memo coming round today, Toal says.

All leave is suspended.

I can’t think straight here. What did he say?

– Look Robbo, Toalie continues, it’s ‘Robbo’ now, – this victim, we don’t have a positive ID yet, but it seems he’s connected. The Chief Super’s got me by the bollocks. We’re stretched and the budget is almost exhausted. We’ve cut back on the OT as much as we can. You’re the first one to complain if there are overtime restrictions . . .

I keep silent.

– . . . This fucking stupid departmental reorganisation . . . Anyway, Personnel will be sending round a memo. We’re out on a limb here, then this murder happens . . . it’s the wrong time for everyone Robbo. We’ve all got to make sacrifices, to pull out the stops.

– I’m on leave in nine days’ time Brother Toal, I tell him.