Читать книгу Logan McRae Crime Series Books 4-6: Flesh House, Blind Eye, Dark Blood - Stuart MacBride - Страница 48

Alec fired up his camera, pointing it through the windscreen at the darkened house. ‘We looking for anything in particular?’

Logan waited for Steel to say something, but she was already clambering out of the car, a freshly lit cigarette between her teeth. Blue-and-white POLICE tape flapped in the wind, a wriggling snake of it caught in the bramble bushes that grew along the drystone dyke opposite the Leiths’ converted steading. Other than that, there was no sign that this place had witnessed a sudden, violent death.

He dug the key out of his pocket – courtesy of a brief stop past FHQ – unlocked the door and flicked on the lights. A high-pitched bleep, bleep, bleep came from a small plastic box on the wall, lights flashing, showing an intruder in ‘ZONE ONE’. The keypad was in the cupboard under the stairs and Logan punched in the code he’d got from the FLO. ‘One, nine, nine, five…’ the year the Leiths got married. Alarm disarmed.

The Environmental Health team had pretty much wrecked the place getting rid of anything contaminated with body fluids. They’d cut large chunks out of the carpet, removing it and the underlay beneath, exposing pale patches of bleached chipboard. The smell of chlorine in the kitchen was almost overpowering, but the blood was gone. God knew how many canisters of trichloroethylene they’d had to use to get rid of it all, but the walls were blotchy where the super-strength bleach had eaten away the colour. Logan threw the kitchen window open, then did the same with the back door, trying to get rid of the swimming pool stink.

And then he went through the kitchen units, looking for anything from Weight Watchers that might suggest Valerie Leith had been a member. There were a couple of cartons of Slim Fast in the cupboards, a packet of Ryvita, but no official products.

Steel was in the back garden, fag in one hand, mobile phone clamped to her ear with the other. She shouted in through the open window, ‘Found anything?’ And when Logan told her no, went back to her phone call. ‘I’m not saying that, Susan, I was just … but …’

So Logan searched the lounge, then the dining room, bedrooms, bathroom, with Alec trailing along behind him. ‘You going to tell me what we’re looking for then?’

‘The Flesher’s victims aren’t just picked at random: he has a selection criteria. If we can figure out how he finds them, we’ve got a much better chance of catching the bastard. And I thought …’ They’d ended up back in the kitchen and Logan still hadn’t found anything. ‘I thought I had a connection, but Valerie Leith never went to Weight Watchers. Close, but no low-fat Chicken Kiev.’

Alec shrugged. ‘Shame – that would have looked good on telly: lone-wolf cop makes connection that breaks the case.’

‘Always thought of myself as team player.’

‘Yeah, well, the public likes lone wolves better. More romantic.’

Logan pulled the window closed, then did the same with the back door. Stopping with his fingers resting on the handle, looking back at the bleach-stained kitchen. All the way up the walls. Not just all over the floor.

A slow grin spread across Logan’s face: he finally knew what had been bugging him about the Leith crime scene.