Weird folded the Scotsman shut with an air of finality. "I tell you something. We better be praying that Maclennan finds out who did this and puts him away."
"Why?" Mondo asked.
"Because if he doesn't, we're going to go through the rest of our lives as the guys that got away with murder."
Mondo looked like a man who's just been told he has terminal cancer. "You're kidding?"
"I've never been more serious in my puff," Weird said. "If they don't arrest anybody for Rosie's murder, all anybody's going to remember is that we're the four who spent the night at the police station. It's obvious, man. We're going to get a not proven verdict without a trial. 'We all know they did it, the police just couldn't prove it,' " he added, mimicking a woman's voice. "Face it, Mondo, you're never going to get laid again." He grinned wickedly, knowing he'd hit his friend where it hurt most.
"Fuck off, Weird. At least I'll have memories," Mondo snapped.
Before any of them could say more, they were interrupted by a new arrival. Ziggy came in, shaking rain from his hair. "I thought I'd find you here," he said.
"Ziggy, Weird says? Mondo began.
"Never mind that. Maclennan's here. He wants to talk to the four of us again."
Alex raised his eyebrows. "He wants to drag us back to St. Andrews?"
Ziggy shook his head. "No. He's here in Kirkcaldy. He wants us to come to the police station."
"Fuck," Weird said. "My old man's going to go mental. I'm supposed to be grounded. He'll think I'm giving him the V-sign. It's not like I can tell him I've been at the cop shop."
"Thank my dad for the fact that we're not having to go to St. Andrews," Ziggy said. "He went spare when Maclennan turned up at the house. Read him the riot act, accusing him of treating us like criminals when we'd done everything we could to save Rosie. I thought at one point he was going to start battering him with the Record." He smiled. "I tell you, I was proud of him."
"Good for him," Alex said. "So where's Maclennan?"
"Outside in his car. With my dad's car parked right behind him." Ziggy's shoulders started shaking with laughter. "I don't think Maclennan's ever come up against anything quite like my old man."
"So we've got to go to the police station now?" Alex asked.
Ziggy nodded. "Maclennan's waiting for us. He said my dad could drive us there, but he's not in the mood for hanging around."
Ten minutes later, Ziggy was sitting alone in an interview room. When they'd arrived at the police station, Alex, Weird and Mondo had been taken to a separate interview room under the watchful eye of a uniformed constable. An anxious Karel Malkiewicz had been unceremoniously abandoned in the reception area, told abruptly by Maclennan that he'd have to wait there. And Ziggy had been shepherded off, sandwiched between Maclennan and Burnside, who had promptly left him to kick his heels.
They knew what they were doing, he thought ruefully. Leaving him isolated like this was a sure-fire recipe for unsettling him. And it was working. Although he showed no outward signs of tension, Ziggy felt taut as a piano wire, vibrating with apprehension. The longest five minutes of his life ended when the two detectives returned and sat down opposite him.
Maclennan's eyes burned into his, his narrow face tight with some suppressed emotion. "Lying to the police is a serious business," he said without preamble, his voice clipped and cold. "Not only is it an offense, it also makes us wonder what exactly it is you've got to hide. You've had a night to sleep on things. Would you care to revise your earlier statement?"
A chilly shock of fear spasmed in Ziggy's chest. They knew something. That was clear. But how much? He said nothing, waiting for Maclennan to make his move.
Maclennan opened his file and pulled out the fingerprint sheet that Ziggy had signed the previous day. "These are your fingerprints?"
Ziggy nodded. He knew what was coming now.
"Can you explain how they came to be on the steering wheel and gearstick of a Land Rover registered to a Mr. Henry Cavendish, found abandoned this morning in the parking area of an industrial unit on Largo Road, St. Andrews?"
Ziggy closed his eyes momentarily. "Yes, I can." He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. He'd rehearsed this conversation in bed that morning, but all his lines had deserted him now he was faced with this