Free Snow Storm by Robert Parker Page A

perfectly legal.”
    “ Batter on.”
She heard herself say.
    “ It’s just a
tad embarrassing.” He confided. “Anyway, you were
saying?”
    “ I
was?”
    “ Well no, but
you were about to be I’m sure. So what’s the story? Is Campbell
right?”
    “ Honestly?”
    He shrugged
in response.
    “ I’d prefer
you didn’t tell him this.”
    “ Goes without
saying.”
    “ I
do.”
    Burke nodded
his head slowly in what looked like contemplation, though for all
she knew he could have been thinking nothing at all. Some people
had mastered the art of merely looking thoughtful, much like her
dad had mastered the art of looking as though he was listening when
her mum rattled on about whatever DIY tasks she had in store for
him on his holidays. “Assuming this is the case of course, it does
imply that this might not exactly be the summit of the body
pile.”
    “ True.” She
agreed.
    “ In which
case, I would imagine it’s only a matter of time before someone
starts running a book on it.”
    It was true.
Campbell had already broached the subject this morning.
    “ What number
should I put you down for?”
    “ I’d say
another two anyway. Although, I’d prefer it didn’t
happen.”
    She nodded in
agreement before remembering herself. These were, after all, human
beings. It was far too easy to get caught up in looking at them as
stats for clear up rates.
    “ Purely from
a selfish point of view.” Burke admitted. “These sudden puddins are
getting in the way of my day to day duties as defined by she who
must be obeyed, AKA Mrs Burke.” He smiled. “Which reminds me, I’ve
got to pick up a Christmas tree from Gorgie City Farm before I go
home or there’ll be hell to pay. Anywhere I can drop you on the
way?”
    “ Gorgie
should be fine for me.”
    “ Really?
Where are you headed anyway?”
    “ Marchmont.
It’s a nice night for a walk.”
    “ If you
sure.” He said. “Still living that student life eh?”
    “ I try.” She
replied
    It was dark
by the time they pulled up on Gorgie Road and she hit the frosted
pavement. It felt like the air was damper now, as though the cold
would cling to you and sink into your bones.
    She knew she
was trapped in the student life, in a specific point in time,
through her own choices.
     
     

 
10

    Sudden puddin’ number
three arrived or was discovered at least in a more timely fashion;
conveniently around half nine as the office, if not Burke’s brain
had already swung into action. At least this particular murderer
had shown something like consideration. As it turned out it was the
cleaner who had discovered the corpse of the former Oleg Karpov
around an hour before CID got word of the situation. On arrival at
work and being in possession of a spare key, she had found him in
the hall or maybe more accurately all over the hall, such were the
forces involved in the ballistics used by criminal elements these
days. Presumably Mr Karpov’s assailant had disapproved of the more
traditional paisley patterned décor and favoured a more Jackson
Pollock inspired theme employing a natural palette.
    He’d received the call in
his office at least, far preferable to doing so while supposed to
be in a state of slumber.
    He’d
despatched Campbell and Jones before leaving and they were already
on scene, suited up along with the forensics team.
    Burke donned a similar
white overall and matching shoe covers and made his way across the
Police line and up the driveway. His feet crunched on gravel, the
reassuring sound of money.
    Being on a
corner afforded the house more room, its façade was imposing and
slightly gothic in comparison to its neighbours which were more
standard Georgian box style buildings.
    He passed
under a substantial entrance porch, nodding at the uniformed boy by
the door. He recognised the face but couldn’t place it. Hazard of
the job. In another context he might have mistaken the same face
for one he’d put away.
    The hallway
was vast, dark and foreboding. Burke