Frozen in Crime

Chapter 19 Arrest

'She's up to something,' said Charlie to Keith Burnett as soon as they left Amaryllis at the war memorial gardens.

'She was just standing there,' said Keith. 'Sir.'

'She's never just standing,' said Charlie. 'Why did she suddenly vanish down that lane and then turn up again at the top of the street?'

'Maybe she saw us watching her,' suggested Keith.

'She's playing games with us again,' said Charlie gloomily. 'Just when I thought she'd grown out of it.'

'But what for, sir?' said Keith.

They were still debating this when they arrived back at the police station. Oh the joys, thought Charlie, taking his coat off again, and sitting down to unfasten his boots, which he needed to put under the radiator if he had any chance of being able to wear them again the following day. Maybe there would be a thaw in the night and the snow would disappear as if by magic, and he could get home and sleep in a proper bed. Inspector Forrester would be back from Cuba in a few days' time, too. Then he would move on from this whole bleak mid-winter thing and get it into perspective. At the moment everything that happened seemed unreal and out of this world, with different rules applying and the focus on survival.

He was disappointed to find the next morning when he looked out the window after very little sleep, that the snow was still there. It hadn't got any worse, and in a few random places it even looked a little less white. But on closer examination one of the random places was where the police Land Rover seemed to have developed an oil leak, and another was where Sergeant McDonald liked to empty out the tea-leaves from the pot.

Perhaps if Sergeant McDonald kept doing that he could melt enough snow to clear the roads, but it might take a while.

They had no excuse for keeping the police station closed to visitors today, since despite the weather they knew it would be a normal working day in Pitkirtly. Theoretically the previous day should have been normal too, but the people of the town weren't daft, and like the local wildlife they knew instinctively when it was time to hibernate. There had been very little new crime because of this, apart from a domestic disturbance which had turned out to centre on someone having to eat sprouts for the fourth time in three days. Sergeant McDonald had cautioned the teenager who had thrown his plate out of the window and smashed someone's garden gnome, and then everyone had gone back to sleep.

They still had to deal with the ongoing armed robbery investigation, of course. Fortunately the news from the hospital was good, so it hadn't yet turned into a murder case. Charlie Smith was very pleased by that. It increased his chances of seeing his little house in Dunfermline again before New Year, although that outcome wasn't by any means certain yet.

He was about to send Karen Whitefield out with Keith for a while interviewing witnesses - his boots were still steaming gently under the radiator, and he was reluctant to put them on yet - when Sergeant McDonald came into his office.

'We've had a complaint,' he said, smug in the knowledge that he wouldn't be the one who had to go out in the snow and check it out, since he was needed on the front desk now that the place was open again.

'Oh, yes?' said Charlie.

'You know that man who's been hanging around? The one with the dog. Mrs Petrelli's been in about him.'

'And?' said Charlie. He wished the sergeant didn't need so much prompting. He made such a meal of everything.

'He was at the restaurant again last night. Hassling people for money. When he got some he came in for a poke of chips. She said the smell was putting the other customers off.'