Page 93 of Better the Devil

‘I was, eh, I was just going to drop him off back home,’ he explained.

Mitchell’s complete lack of reaction suggested she had no opinion on this either way. She pointed to the door behind him, and he reluctantly pushed it closed.

‘There a problem, ma’am?’

‘You’ve ordered a helicopter?’ Mitchell asked.

Logan was quietly impressed by how quickly Hamza had carried out the order.

‘I did.’

The fold of Mitchell’s arms tightened like a knot. ‘For a missing pensioner?’

‘For an armed and potentially dangerous missing pensioner, aye.’

‘You bypassed me with it.’

‘You were busy.’

‘You could’ve come and got me.’

Logan shrugged. ‘Didn’t want to interrupt.’

Mitchell glowered at him, but then her anger seemed to dissipate as she rubbed at her forehead. ‘It’s fine. The panel, they can be…’

She fished around for the right word. Logan was only too happy to provide it.

‘Twats?’

Mitchell almost—almost—laughed. ‘Hard workis what I was going to say.’

‘Oh. Right. Aye.’

‘But I’m not saying you’re wrong,’ the Det Supt continued.

‘How did they go? The interviews?’

‘You know I can’t go into detail, Jack,’ Mitchell said. She stole a look at the office door again, before completely contradicting that last statement. ‘Sinead’s was… good. Solid. Very good, really. She handled herself well. There were some nerves, yes, but she settled quickly. Everyone was impressed. Genuinely. Nothing but good words.’

Logan was not remotely surprised to hear any of that.

‘And Tyler?’

‘Tyler. Tyler.’ Mitchell turned to look out of the window again while she considered the question. ‘Tyler’s was one of the most extraordinary interviews I’ve ever been involved in.’

Logan’s eyebrows crept higher on his forehead.

‘Oh? Right. Bloody hell. I mean… good. Great. Good for him.’

‘Oh, no. Sorry, that’s not what I meant,’ Mitchell replied. ‘I didn’t mean it was extraordinary in a positive way.’

The eyebrows dropped back down to Earth with a bump. ‘Right.’

‘Are you familiar with the animated Disney movie,The Little Mermaid?’ Mitchell asked.

‘Not really,’ Jack conceded.

‘Well, that must be nice for you, because I am. I very much am. The whole panel is, in fact.’