o’clock and one forty-five, Emma Skinner – Heidi and Toby’s mother – was subjected to a brutal and fatal attack, along with her friend, Brian Williams, at a house in Newburgh Road.’
At that, the elderly couple sitting next to Steel quivered and wiped away tears.
Officer Bouffant tilted her head. ‘We’re calling Williams her “friend”. Thought it’d be kinder.’
A copy of that morning’s
Daily Mail
sat on the desk beside her. ‘ MUM AND TOYBOY LOVER IN BLOODBATH HORROR ’.
‘How did that work out for you?’
She picked up the newspaper and dumped it in the bin. Shrugged. ‘Well, it was worth a go.’
‘… appealing for any information that will help us locate Heidi and Toby. Did you see John Skinner’s dark-blue BMW M5…’
Then a sigh. ‘Wasting our time, aren’t we? Fiver says that gets us nothing but more phone calls from nutters.’
‘Yup.’
‘… extremely concerned for their wellbeing…’
Officer Bouffant curled into herself a bit, shoulders rounding. ‘You know what? Being in the police would be a great job, if we didn’t have to deal with members of the sodding public.’
‘Thank you.’
The media officer had another shuffle.
‘And now Mr and Mrs Prichard would like to read a brief statement.’
The old man’s voice was cracked and raw, trembling with each breath.
‘We’ve already lost so much. Emma was the brightest, most wonderful human being you could ever meet. She lit up every room…’
‘Think they’ll get custody of the kids? You know, assuming we find them.’ She folded her arms. ‘I mean, the court won’t give Heidi and Toby to the dad’s parents, will they? Not after what
he
did.’
‘Haven’t you got phones to answer?’
Sigh. ‘Yes, Guv.’
‘… bring our grandchildren home, safe and sound. Please, if you know anything, if you saw … their father…’
The poor sod couldn’t even bring himself to say John Skinner’s name.
‘… if you know where our grandchildren are…’
He crumpled, both hands covering his face. His wife put her arm around him, tears shining on her cheeks.
Mr Media did some more shuffling.
‘Thank you. We will now take questions.’
A forest of hands shot up.
‘Yes?’
‘Carol Smith,
Aberdeen Examiner
. Why did John Skinner jump off the casino? Did he have a gambling problem?’
Steel shook her head.
‘No’ that we know of. The casino has no record of him ever being in the building before. As far as we—’
Logan killed the sound and left Steel chuntering away to herself in silence.
It was all just for show anyway. The illusion of progress. Yes, someone
might
spot John Skinner’s BMW, but it wasn’t likely. The only way they were going to get Heidi and Toby back was by working their way through every parking spot in the city, and hoping there was something in Skinner’s car that would point the way.
And hope even more that it didn’t point to a pair of tiny shallow graves.
His phone buzzed deep inside his pocket, then launched into ‘If I Only Had a Brain’. That would be Rennie.
Logan hit the button. ‘What have you got?’
‘Guv? Think we’ve found him.’
‘There.’ The CCTV tech leaned forward and poked the screen. A figure was frozen in the lower left-hand corner, shoulders hunched, long blue raincoat on over what looked like a grey suit. John Skinner.
Logan nodded. ‘It’s him.’
She spooled the footage backwards, and he reversed onto Union Street, disappearing around the corner of the Athenaeum pub. ‘Took a while, but we managed to—’
‘Hoy!’ The door thumped open and Steel stood on the threshold, with a mug in one hand and a rolled-up newspaper tucked under her arm. ‘Who said you sods could start without me?’
And everything had been going so well. ‘Thought you were off being a media tart.’
‘Did you see me on the telly? I was spectacular. Like a young Helen Mirren.’ She thumped the newspaper against his chest. ‘Page four.’
Logan opened the
Scottish
At that, the elderly couple sitting next to Steel quivered and wiped away tears.
Officer Bouffant tilted her head. ‘We’re calling Williams her “friend”. Thought it’d be kinder.’
A copy of that morning’s
Daily Mail
sat on the desk beside her. ‘ MUM AND TOYBOY LOVER IN BLOODBATH HORROR ’.
‘How did that work out for you?’
She picked up the newspaper and dumped it in the bin. Shrugged. ‘Well, it was worth a go.’
‘… appealing for any information that will help us locate Heidi and Toby. Did you see John Skinner’s dark-blue BMW M5…’
Then a sigh. ‘Wasting our time, aren’t we? Fiver says that gets us nothing but more phone calls from nutters.’
‘Yup.’
‘… extremely concerned for their wellbeing…’
Officer Bouffant curled into herself a bit, shoulders rounding. ‘You know what? Being in the police would be a great job, if we didn’t have to deal with members of the sodding public.’
‘Thank you.’
The media officer had another shuffle.
‘And now Mr and Mrs Prichard would like to read a brief statement.’
The old man’s voice was cracked and raw, trembling with each breath.
‘We’ve already lost so much. Emma was the brightest, most wonderful human being you could ever meet. She lit up every room…’
‘Think they’ll get custody of the kids? You know, assuming we find them.’ She folded her arms. ‘I mean, the court won’t give Heidi and Toby to the dad’s parents, will they? Not after what
he
did.’
‘Haven’t you got phones to answer?’
Sigh. ‘Yes, Guv.’
‘… bring our grandchildren home, safe and sound. Please, if you know anything, if you saw … their father…’
The poor sod couldn’t even bring himself to say John Skinner’s name.
‘… if you know where our grandchildren are…’
He crumpled, both hands covering his face. His wife put her arm around him, tears shining on her cheeks.
Mr Media did some more shuffling.
‘Thank you. We will now take questions.’
A forest of hands shot up.
‘Yes?’
‘Carol Smith,
Aberdeen Examiner
. Why did John Skinner jump off the casino? Did he have a gambling problem?’
Steel shook her head.
‘No’ that we know of. The casino has no record of him ever being in the building before. As far as we—’
Logan killed the sound and left Steel chuntering away to herself in silence.
It was all just for show anyway. The illusion of progress. Yes, someone
might
spot John Skinner’s BMW, but it wasn’t likely. The only way they were going to get Heidi and Toby back was by working their way through every parking spot in the city, and hoping there was something in Skinner’s car that would point the way.
And hope even more that it didn’t point to a pair of tiny shallow graves.
His phone buzzed deep inside his pocket, then launched into ‘If I Only Had a Brain’. That would be Rennie.
Logan hit the button. ‘What have you got?’
‘Guv? Think we’ve found him.’
‘There.’ The CCTV tech leaned forward and poked the screen. A figure was frozen in the lower left-hand corner, shoulders hunched, long blue raincoat on over what looked like a grey suit. John Skinner.
Logan nodded. ‘It’s him.’
She spooled the footage backwards, and he reversed onto Union Street, disappearing around the corner of the Athenaeum pub. ‘Took a while, but we managed to—’
‘Hoy!’ The door thumped open and Steel stood on the threshold, with a mug in one hand and a rolled-up newspaper tucked under her arm. ‘Who said you sods could start without me?’
And everything had been going so well. ‘Thought you were off being a media tart.’
‘Did you see me on the telly? I was spectacular. Like a young Helen Mirren.’ She thumped the newspaper against his chest. ‘Page four.’
Logan opened the
Scottish
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