Page 148 of Better the Devil

They would have to walk it from here. That was good, though. Walking was quiet. Walking was slow.

Walking bought him some time.

A layer of cloud covered most of the sky, but a few clear patches offered glimpses of stars. So many stars out here away from the city, and so little of anything else.

The moon was buried behind cloud cover, and its light was far too faint to have much of an impact. Logan led the way,picking a path through the undergrowth, headed for the low, squat building he could just make out the edges of through the darkness up ahead.

Jack checked his phone. As expected, he’d left the signal somewhere back near the main road. Four little dots at the top of the screen told him they were on their own.

Maybe that should’ve worried him. But he’d thought this through. He’d been planning it, ever since it had all fallen into place.

Her car. Her bag. Her fingerprint, her husband, her money.

All of it.

‘We could do with a bit of light over here,’ he whispered, as they drew closer to the low, squat stone building.

At first glance, the place looked to be in darkness, but there was a faint glow around the edges of its one visible window, suggesting it had been boarded up on the inside.

This close, even in the dark, Logan got the sense of The Devil’s Point looming somewhere ahead. Huge. Intimidating. Potentially deadly.

He could see where it got its original name from.

‘You got your torch on you, Sergeant?’ he asked.

Even though he already knew the answer.

Even though he’d checked.

‘Shite. No,’ Fleck whispered.

It was confirmation, but only of a sort. Not a smoking gun, just something else to add to the pile.

Like the left turn that Fleck had taken without being told.

Like the ANPR hit on Eleanor Belov that had been faked from the sergeant’s own car.

‘Not got it replaced yet?’ Logan asked. He stopped just a handful of feet away from the bothy and turned. ‘After stoating it off Victor Belov’s skull?’

‘What do you—?’ Fleck began, but he abandoned the sentence midway through.

What would be the point in denying it?

He shrugged. A crooked smile turned up one corner of his mouth.

‘It’s on my to-do list, but I’ve been kind of busy.’

‘Oh, aye. You’ve been that alright,’ Logan agreed. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and tipped his head back towards the door of the darkened bothy. ‘Shall we?’

Bosco Maximuke knelton the bare wooden floor, hands tied at his back, a gag pulled across his mouth and wedged in tight between his teeth.

There was blood on his forehead and some drying below his nose. His eyes swam, struggling to focus on Logan as the DCI threw open the door and stepped inside.

Jack stopped almost immediately, taken aback by the sheer number of people assembled around the edges of the bothy’s interior.

He’d been expecting Bosco and this Curtis Neil character. Maybe one or two others.

But this?