No one moved. Ten plainclothes officers, four uniforms, all squeezed into the Major Incident Room and all doing their best not to make eye contact with her. Steel stomped off to the window, blocking the view of Banff bay and the gently falling snow. ‘Well?’ If anything, she looked worse than she had yesterday. The penguin PJs were gone, replaced by a charcoal-grey suit and red silk shirt, but the bruises had darkened and spread. A pair of truly impressive black eyes sat either side of her bandaged nose, their edges fading to green and yellow. The bruise on her cheek was the colour of over-ripe plums. She glared at them out of her one good eye, the other still swollen up like a pudding. ‘Didn’t think so. Well believe me: I’m no’ forgetting and I’m no’ forgiving this. I find out which one of you gave the Sunday Examiner an exclusive, I’ll make sure you walk squint for a month. Understand?’ Someone cleared their throat. Logan leaned back against the wall, keeping as still as possible.
