Free Cold Granite by Stuart MacBride

in the back of a grubby van.
    'You think the deaths are connected?' There was a hopeful edge to DI Insch's voice.
    'Doubtful.' Logan watched as the tiny corpse was gently rol ed into a body-bag far too big for it. 'Victim's female, not male. Disposal's different: the kid's been wrapped up in a mile and a half of packing tape. No sign of strangulation. She might have been abused, but we won't know until the post mortem.'
    Insch swore again. 'You tel them I want that kid done today, OK? I don't want to spend the night twiddling my thumbs while the media make up horror stories! Today!'
    Logan winced, not looking forward to breaking the news to Isobel. In her current mood she was more likely to do a post mortem on him. 'Yes, sir.'
    'Get her cleaned up and photographed. I want posters run off: have you seen this girl?'
    'Yes, sir.'
    The blue body-bag was picked up by two of the IB team, and careful y placed in the corner of the tent, out of the way. Then they started col ecting the rubbish from the bag she'd been dumped in, making sure it was al properly bagged and label ed. Banana skins, empty bottles of wine, broken eggshel s...The poor little kid hadn't even been worth the effort of a shallow grave. She'd been thrown out with the garbage.
    Logan was promising to cal the inspector back as soon as they'd heard anything when WPC Watson shouted: 'Hold it!' She darted forward, grabbing a crumpled-up piece of paper from the rubbish that had spil ed out onto the plastic sheeting.
    It was a til receipt.
    Logan asked Insch to wait while Watson unfolded the grimy scrap. It was from the big Tesco in Danestone. Someone had bought half a dozen free-range eggs, a carton of creme fraiche, two bottles of cabernet sauvignon, and a pack of avocadoes. And paid for it with cash.
    Watson groaned. 'Damn.' She handed the receipt to Logan. 'I thought he'd've paid by credit card, or Switch.'
    'No way we could be that lucky.' He turned the scrap of paper over in his hands. Eggs, wine, posh cream and avocadoes...The line under the last item caught Logan's eye and a smile began to blossom.
    'What?' Watson looked annoyed. 'What's so funny?'
    Logan held the receipt aloft and beamed at her. 'Sir,' he said into the phone, 'WPC
    Watson's found a supermarket receipt in the bag with the body...No, sir, he paid cash.' If Logan's smile were any wider the top of his head would have fal en off. 'But he did col ect his Clubcard points.'
    South Anderson Drive was a bastard at this time of day, but North Anderson Drive was even worse. The traffic was nose to tail al the way across the city. Rush hour.
    The Procurator Fiscal had final y turned up, bustled about the crime scene, demanded an update on the investigation, complained that this was the second dead child to be discovered in as many days, implied that it was al Logan's fault, and sodded off again.
    Logan waited until he and WPC Watson were safely cocooned within the fogged-up car before expressing what he'd like to do to the Fiscal with a cactus and a tube of Ralgex.
    It took them wel over an hour to get from the tip at Nigg to the huge Tesco at Danestone. The store was situated in a prime spot: not far from the swol en River Don, within spitting distance of the old sewage works, the Grove Cemetery and the Grampian Country Chickens slaughterhouse; and close to where they'd found little David Reid's bloated corpse.
    The store was busy, al the office workers from the nearby Science and Technology Park picking up booze and ready-meals for another night at home in front of the tel y.

    There was a customer service desk just inside the entrance, manned by a young-looking man with a long blond ponytail. Logan asked him to get the manager.
    Two minutes later a smal , balding man with a pair of half-moon glasses arrived. He was wearing the same uniform-blue sweater as the rest of the staff, but his name badge said: 'COLIN
    B RANAGAN, M ANAGER'.
    'Can I help you?'
    Logan pulled out his warrant card and handed it over for