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Barney continued to puff away as the DCC approached, a look of distaste on her face as she took in the unusual scene of a pyjama-clad amputee puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, whilst hanging out of a camper van door.
Her eyes fell on Max. ‘DS Craigie, isn’t it?’ she said, her accent soft, yet it had a steeliness to it.
‘Yes, ma’am. This is DC Calder, and this is Barney, our technical expert.’
‘Now then, love,’ said Barney, pulling the roll-up from his mouth, a big beaming smile across his leathery features and tendrils of smoke wisping from his lips.
The DCC’s lips curled in displeasure, her eyes narrowing with deep suspicion.
‘Why is this van parked here?’ she said, looking at Barney’s VW, and then at the orange cable that snaked across the pavement and into a window of the building.
‘Close t’ leccy. It were brass monkeys last night and I’d have frozen me knackers off without some heat,’ said Barney, his accent growing.
‘Sorry, you mean you slept here? In a disabled bay? Powered using electricity from the building?’ she said incredulously.
‘Aye. Late finish and I were cream-crackered. Pleased to meet you, by the way.’ Barney’s smile widened.
DCC Campbell opened her mouth to remonstrate, but she then snapped it shut, her eyes flinty. ‘Is DI Fraser in?’
‘Yes, ma’am. I spoke to him fifteen minutes ago,’ said Max.
‘Is one of you called Barney Illingworth?’ They all looked towards the postman, who was scratching his red thatch, a briefcase-sized parcel in his hand.
‘Aye, that’s me, lad,’ said Barney.
‘Parcel for you. Never had an address like this before, “Blue VW Camper Van in front of Tulliallan Castle”, even has your registration number on it. Sign here,’ he said with a chuckle as he handed a small smartphone to Barney, who squiggled on the screen.
‘Nice one. A new toy to play with,’ said Barney as he handed back the smartphone and accepted the parcel.
‘I’m not awake enough for weird deliveries like this,’ said the postie, shaking his head and returning to his van.
‘Are you actually living here?’ said the DCC, turning to look at Barney, her brow furrowed with confusion.
‘Nay, love. Just a temporary fix whilst I’m helping out,’ said Barney, looking at the package with relish.
DCC Campbell opened her mouth, her eyes flashing displeasure, before she seemed to change her mind. She shook her head. ‘I’ll take this up with DI Fraser, but this is a place of work, DS Craigie, nota campsite. Get the van disconnected, and get it appropriately parked.’ She turned on her heel and strode off, her steps purposeful and quick.
‘I don’t want your coffee, but maybe we’ll have a tea, Barney. I think staying away from the office for a while may be a good idea.’ Max winced.
‘Aye, a carpeting from the DCC is no way to start the day, is it?’ said Barney, chuckling.
‘I cannot believe that you’ve had the bloody postie delivering to you in your van, outside Police Scotland HQ,’ said Max, laughing.
‘Good bit of kit, this. It’ll be really useful, and I wanted to mess with it. Particularly if we have some downtime.’
‘This is guaranteed to put Ross in a bad mood before we’ve even got in, and he’d been edgy, anyway. I think Mrs F had been moaning about the hours,’ said Janie.
‘Unsurprising, Katie hasn’t been that impressed, either. We could do with some time off,’ said Max, accepting a steaming mug from Barney.
‘I can’t say that Melissa has been that happy either, so another vote from me for downtime.’
‘All these ties you folk have. Should be like your Uncle Barney.’
‘What, living in a tiny van and pishing in a bucket?’ said Max.
‘I resent that. It’s compact and bijou, not tiny.’
‘Barney, when did you last go home?’ said Janie.
