Read Online Flesh House by Stuart MacBride - Free Book Online Page A

nun's wimple and a surgical truss. Alec the cameraman waited till the Chief Constable got to the punch line, then confirmed the sound levels were perfect.
'Good.' Faulds ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the sparkling granite tenement. Cleared his throat. Marched up to the door.
Logan leaned over and whispered to the cameraman,'So ... Insch tell you to get lost again?'
Alec pulled a face. 'He's a nightmare. Thought he was going to smack me one this morning. All I did was ask how his diet's going.'
They followed Faulds into the building. It was dark inside: a welcome mat smeared with mud and the faint smell of dog shit; a mountain bike chained to the banisters; a stack of junk mail slowly festering in a dirty puddle on the tiled floor. Faulds started up the stairs.
'Anyway,' said Alec,'this is going to be great for the Flesher special - revisiting the original case, talking to the witnesses, walking the crime scenes.'
Faulds paused on the first landing, leant on the balustrade and called down to them:'Something wrong?'
'With you in a second.' Alec lowered his voice. 'Just between you and me: what do you reckon to Faulds, then?'
Logan shrugged. 'He's OK, I suppose. Fancies himself a bit. I was expecting him to be more of an arse, pull rank the whole time ... you know: your average Chief Constable.'
'You remember that Birmingham Bomber case? Well Faulds was the one who--'
'You two asleep down there?'
Logan sighed and started for the stairs. 'Our master's voice.'
Flat six was on the top floor, the door painted dark red with a little brass plaque above the letterbox:'J AMES M C L AUGHLIN PHD' engraved at the top,'C ERBERUS , M EDUSA &MRS POO' underneath. Logan rang the doorbell.
It was answered two minutes later by a young, bearded man in his pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers. Mid twenties. Cup of tea in one hand, slice of toast in the other. Glasses perched on the end of his nose. He took one look at the three of them standing in the hallway, saw Alec's camera, and said,'Ten minutes. I get to plug the book twice. It stays in shot the whole time. Agreed?' He stuck the toast in his mouth then offered his hand to seal the deal. There was jam on it.
Logan didn't shake it. 'We're not from the television, Mr McLaughlin.' He dug out his warrant card. 'DS McRae: Grampian Police, this is Chief Constable Faulds: West Midlands. We're here to ask you a few questions about the night your parents disappeared.'
'It was twenty years ago!' McLaughlin rolled his eyes. 'Look, read the book, OK? It's all in there. I can't remember anything else.'
'We'll try not take up too much of your time, sir. It is important.'
Sigh. 'OK, OK. You can come in. But watch where you're walking. I'm pretty sure Medusa's been sick, but I haven't found out where yet ...'
James McLaughlin's living room was littered with books. A computer desk sat in the bay window, covered in bits of paper and more books. A typist's chair sat in front of it, a large, grey, furry cat watching them from the seat, master of all it surveyed.
McLaughlin shooed it off. 'Come on Cerberus, that's daddy's chair.'
Logan couldn't see anywhere to sit himself, so he moved a pile of paperbacks from the settee to the floor. 'Sorry if we got you out of bed.'
The man shrugged. 'Nah, you're all right: I was working.' He swept a hand down the front of his pyjamas. 'Standard writers' uniform.'
Faulds picked his way round the room, peering at the framed photographs on the wall. 'I read your book,' he said at last. 'Very good. I especially liked the bit about all the fancy policemen coming up from down south.'
McLaughlin beamed. 'Glad you liked it. It was ...' He frowned. 'Detective Superintendent! Thought I recognized you. Jesus, you've not changed much.'
'Chief Constable now. For my sins.' Faulds picked up a little wooden plaque, read the inscription and put it back down again. 'I'm really glad you did something with your life, Jamie. Some people would have curled up in a little ball and never