The Distant Echo Page 0,5

these boys down to the station, keep them apart when you get there. We'll be down in a wee while to talk to them." Then he turned and stumbled back in the direction of their terrible discovery, now hidden behind canvas screens through which an eerie green light emanated, staining the snow.

The younger policeman gave his colleague a worried look. "How are we going to get them back?"

He shrugged. "You'll have to squeeze them in your panda. I came up in the Sherpa van."

"Can we not take them back down in that? Then you could keep an eye on them while I'm driving."

The older man shook his head, pursing his lips. "If you say so, Lawson." He gestured to the Laddies fi' Kirkcaldy. "Come on, youse. Into the van. And no messing about, right?" He herded them toward a police van, calling over his shoulder to Lawson, "You better get the keys off Tam Watt."

Lawson set off up the slope, leaving them with Mackenzie. "I wouldnae like to be in your shoes when the CID get off that hill," he said conversationally as he climbed in behind them. Alex shivered, though not from the cold. It was slowly dawning on him that the police were regarding him and his companions as potential suspects rather than witnesses. They'd been given no opportunity to confer, to get their ducks in a row. The four of them exchanged uneasy looks. Even Weird had straightened out enough to realize this wasn't some daft game.

When Mackenzie hustled them into the van, there had been a few seconds when they'd been left alone. Just sufficient time for Ziggy to mutter loud enough for their ears, "For fuck's sake, don't mention the Land Rover." Instant comprehension had filled their eyes.

"Christ, aye," Weird said, head jerking back in terrified realization. Mondo chewed the skin round his thumbnail, saying nothing. Alex merely nodded.

The police station hadn't felt anymore composed than the crime scene. The desk sergeant complained bitterly when the two uniformed officers arrived with four bodies who were supposed to be prevented from communicating with each other. It turned out there were insufficient interview rooms to keep them separate. Weird and Mondo were taken to wait in unlocked cells, while Alex and Ziggy were left to their own devices in the station's two interview rooms.

The room Alex found himself in was claustrophobically small. It was barely three paces square, as he established within minutes of being shut in to kick his heels. There were no windows, and the low ceiling with its graying polystyrene tiles made it all the more oppressive. It contained a chipped wooden table and four unmatching wooden chairs that looked exactly as uncomfortable as they felt. Alex tried them all in turn, finally settling for one that didn't dig into his thighs as much as the others.

He wondered if he was allowed to smoke. Judging by the smell of the stale air, he wouldn't have been the first. But he was a well-brought-up lad, and the absence of an ashtray gave him pause. He searched his pockets and found the screwed-up silver paper from a packet of Polo mints. Carefully, he spread it out, folding the edges up to form a rough tray. Then he took out his packet of Bensons and flipped the top open. Nine left. That should see him through, he thought.

Alex lit his cigarette and allowed himself to think about his position for the first time since they'd arrived at the police station. It was obvious, now he thought about it. They'd found a body. They had to be suspects. Everybody knew that the prime candidates for arrest in a murder investigation were either the ones who last saw the victim alive or the ones who found the body. Well, that was them on both counts.

He shook his head. The body. He was starting to think like them. This wasn't just a body, it was Rosie. Somebody he knew, however slightly. He supposed that made it all the more suspicious. But he didn't want to consider that now. He wanted that horror far from his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, flashbacks to the hill played like a movie before his eyes. Beautiful, sexy Rosie broken and bleeding on the snow. "Think about something else," he said aloud.

He wondered how the others would react to questioning. Weird was off his head, that was for sure. He'd had more than drink tonight. Alex had seen him with a joint in his

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