Back Burner

‘Right, folks.’ Allan Chisolm’s eyes swept the room. ‘Let’s get started.’

From their work-stations, his squad ambled over and joined him for that morning’s briefing.

‘What have we got?’ He addressed the expectant faces around the table.

Brian Burnett consulted his notes. ‘One case of aggravated assault, couple of minor scraps, bank scams, break-ins. Oh, and a possible drug overdose,’ he rattled off, anxious to sound on-the-ball.

‘Let’s start with the assault.’

Brian passed his superior a file.

Chisolm opened it, scanned the report inside. ‘Mmm,’ he murmured, knitting his brows. ‘Keep me up to speed on this, Sergeant. We’ve had too many of these lately.’

‘Sir.’

‘And the break-ins?’

DS Dave Wood, his belly straining uncomfortably over the waistband of his pleated trousers, raised his head. In a world-weary voice, he answered, ‘Usual suspects.’

Chisolm shot him a sharp look. Thought better of it. Wood was within a year of retirement. After all the changes he’d been forced to adapt to over the past few years, who could blame him for a spot of cynicism.

‘Bank scams? Who’s on that?’

Sergeant George Duffy sighed. ‘Nowt to be done, not in these cases anyhow. Complainants instructed the transactions.’

‘I take it you’ve advised them to follow the bank’s complaints procedure as their first course of redress?’ Douglas Dunn interjected. DC Dunn was a graduate recruit and an unending source of irritation to his senior officers.

Brown-arsed wee bastard, Duffy thought. ‘I have, yes.’ He nodded.

‘And passed on details of the financial ombudsman,’ Douglas prompted.

Duffy gritted his teeth. ‘That too.’

‘Let’s move on.’ Chisolm drummed his fingers on the table. ‘This overdose? It’s only a possible, you say?’

Brian again. ‘Attending officers found the subject unresponsive. No apparent injuries.’

‘Why are we classifying it as a drug overdose, tell me?’

‘It was one of the paramedics found pills.’

Chisolm’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. ‘Attending officers?’ he demanded.

‘Souter and Miller.’

DC Susan Strachan, the only female in the company, shot Brian a sideways look. She couldn’t believe the uniforms had missed such a crucial piece of evidence. Those two were in for a bollocking, that was for sure.

‘Fatal?’

‘No, sir. Leastways not yet. Victim’s in intensive care. From what I can gather it’s touch and go.’

‘A druggie?’

‘No, sir. Middle-aged wifie from out Milltimber. A Mrs Sheena Struthers.’

‘Accidental?’

‘Looks like it.’

Christ, Chisholm thought, a cushy life in Milltimber and it still wasn’t enough. ‘Nonetheless, make sure those pills have been dusted for fingerprints. There wasn’t a note?’

‘No, sir.’

‘You sure?’ Doubtful voice. If uniform could manage to miss a package of pills, Christ knows what else they’d overlooked.

Brian ducked. He didn’t reply.

‘I’ll take that as affirmative. Witnesses?’

‘Woman was alone in the house. Discovered by the cleaner.’

‘I take it we have a statement.’

‘Belatedly. Cleaner is Polish. Speaks very little English. Luckily, her partner is a builder working out at Peterculter this week. We managed to get hold of him and he translated. Cleaner said she wasn’t due until 9.30, but got a lift with the boyfriend and arrived early. She rang the doorbell. Had her own key, but didn’t use it in case her employer was in the shower or summat. When there was no response, she let herself in. Poor girl was in bits, rabbiting on if she’d been half an hour later, her boss could have been…’

‘What’s the current state of play?’

‘Hospital’s running tests. I’ve asked Souter to follow up on the results.’

Chisolm crooked an eyebrow. ‘Double check. Given the…’ he hesitated, ‘…circumstances, better not leave it to uniform.’

‘Sir.’

‘Right.’ He shuffled his files together. ‘If there’s no evidence of criminality, we’ll put that one on the back burner for now.’