Page 122 of Better the Devil

‘Melissa,’ she said, then she cleared her throat and tried her best to stand tall. ‘PC Nisbett, I mean.’

‘You’re doing great, Melissa. Great job. Right, Jack?’

Standing by the cordon tape, DCI Logan blinked in surprise. ‘What? Oh. Aye. Good. Well done.’

Reeve turned back to the constable. ‘Hear that? And he isnotoriouslydifficult to please. Seriously, he’s like a brick wall. That, what he just said? That’s like a DCI Logan Oscar right there.’

Logan tutted. ‘Alright, alright, no need to patronise the poor lassie to death. And take your hand off her shoulder, you look like you’re giving her the Vulcan fucking death grip, or something.’

‘It’s actually the Vulcan nerve pinch,’ Reeve corrected, withdrawing his hand. ‘Vulcans are an inherently peaceful species, so they would never?—’

‘I don’t care,’ Logan said, cutting him off. ‘Melissa, was it?’

The constable nodded quickly.

Logan glanced around, indicating the small army of backup that had now arrived on the scene. ‘You’re done here. Away and get yourself a cup of tea. Talk to DI Khaled over there. Have him arrange for someone to give you a lift back up the road.’

‘I’ll, eh, I’m sure I’ll be fine, sir.’

‘So am I, but humour me, eh?’ Logan told her.

The lines of her face drew tighter, pulled together, like she was trying not to cry.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said, her voice hoarse.

Then, keeping her back to the body, she hurried off in Hamza’s direction.

Reeve moved in closer to Logan as he watched the constable leave.

‘Oh, man,’ he mumbled, folding his arms. ‘And you sayI’mpatronising?’

‘She was shaken,’ Logan pointed out.

‘She’s a trained police officer,’ Reeve countered.

‘Whose shoulder you were massaging.’

DCI Reeve’s smile took a dent. ‘What? No. That was a supportive gesture.’

Logan tilted his head left and right, like he was weighing things up. ‘Looked a bit creepy from where I was standing. But, you know, you do you.’

Reeve scanned their surroundings, searching for a way to reclaim the upper hand. Or, maybe just to change the subject.

‘Speaking of being shaken.’

He nodded to another cordon tape on the other side of the body. Sergeant Gavin Fleck stood there, his face so pale it practically shone in the evening gloom. He was staring down at Joe Robertson’s body, and at the glistening triangle of pink and red that covered the grass behind him.

If the constable had been upset by the discovery, Fleck looked positively distraught.

‘Poor guy. He’ll take this hard,’ Reeve remarked.

Logan found himself nodding in agreement, before the comment fully filtered through.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, I mean, he’s tight with a lot of these guys. You know, since, uh, moving into the community policing space.’

Logan sneered at the phrasing. ‘Fuck me.Moving into the community policing space?’ He grimaced, like the words tasted unpleasant. ‘And how do you know that, anyway? About him, and them?’