The Devil's Due: A Cooper and McCall Scottish Crime Thriller by Ramsay Sinclair (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

discuss Gavin Ellis and my first case as detective inspector. He squeezed behind a disturbingly small desk for a larger man. DCI Graham Campbell was a respectable figure for the Bay and one heck of an experienced senior officer. He’d experienced everything, from the rise of Women’s Departments and times when police officers utilized physical violence as tactical moves.

Whenever DCI Campbell asked to speak privately, my palms coated in a light sweat. No one in CID ever came close to touching his achievements, and that was daunting. You’d hit the big time when DCI Campbell held a private audience with you. DCI Campbell started in Scotland Yard first, for Metropolitan forces. Since then, he transferred to stations aplenty and worked up between ranks.

“Ah, DI Cooper. Just the man I needed to see.” DCI Campbell stacked a load of paperwork under the computer keyboard. His London accent always threw us off-kilter. It’s not how Scottish DCIs should sound. Rumours submerged our office about DCI Campbell’s plans to retire. We couldn’t imagine him doing anything else, always thinking he’d stay here until forced onto a deathbed.

“Yes, sir. I got your message.” I invited myself into the pokey office on tenterhooks. DCI Campbell waved over, gesturing to sit down. His spectacularly bald head shone through our dim office lights, any hair remaining already grey. A lone office chair squeaked underneath my weight. There used to be times where I could eat anything in sight and stay trim. Nowadays, no chance. Damned office food.

“Gavin Ellis. Washed up near the sailing club, early hours this morning. Nineteen years old. Found by Sammy Davis. Tell me, what did you find?” DCI Campbell quizzed, snapping Gavin’s case file closed and stared at me through brown-hued eyes. Although weathered, they still held the gift of life.

“Well, DCI Campbell sir. There’s no murder weapon. Presumably chucked in the water, same as Gavin’s body. Until it washes up somewhere soon, we have no definite.”

DCI Campbell hummed in agreement, leaning both shirt-covered elbows onto his desk. How could someone so old look younger than half of our team put together? Lucky genes.

“A classic homicide case,” I resumed. “Kris Ellis, the mother, chucked Gavin out of her house four days ago. I’ve no reason to believe she’s lying any more--”

“A hunch?” DCI Campbell interjected, frowning seriously. He proudly presented framed photographs dotted around his office. A happily married family man. I wondered how he successfully balanced work life to home life.

“No, sir. Kris revealed the information directly. Our officers are undergoing door-to-door checks, making sure Kris’s alibi adds up. Others are out reviewing the bay.”

“Very good. Cold, hard evidence. That’s what we like,” DCI Campbell affirmed smartly, leaning back to a comfortable position. He pulled his stiff collar to cool down. There were so many people wandering through our station, that the temperature always remained stuffy.

“DS McCall should be debriefing in the office. We’ve no other leads until forensics work their magic.” I sighed, knowing this information sounded useless.

“Just what we don’t want with a killer on the loose.” DCI Campbell folded his arms and clicked in thought. We all felt similar emotions when working on cases. The same frustrations, highs and lows and contentment at newfound discoveries.

“DS McCall suggested looking into Gavin’s friendship circle first. He’s a criminal, so most likely had a few dodgy friends.” I half praised the temperamental woman.

“Probably our best start. Delve into his personal history too to figure out who he may have pissed off. Could it be an intentional murder, or was he wrong place, wrong time?” My superior sipped a mug of tea and rifled through paperwork aplenty. “I’ll forward you the forensics emails as soon as possible. They know it’s urgent, but you never can tell them guys enough times. Gavin’s autopsy results should be sent over at some point too, although I’d like to visit the body in person.”

“Uh-huh. Thank you, sir.” I jotted down a few notes.

“Go home. Get some rest,” Campbell noted grimly. “There'll be a bunch of statements awaiting us tomorrow. We can separate the bluffers from honesty and go from there. Without the murder weapon, it’ll be tricky. But SOCO may come up trumps, if they work a miracle.”

Most people forget being a detective means waiting around. All week long. Patience should get an honourable mention inside CID every so often. Lethargic but acceptive of DCI Campbell’s proposal, I gratefully stalked to his office entrance. As my hand traced the cold metal handle, DCI Campbell stopped me.

“Oh and Cooper?” he added with a stern face, nostrils flared slightly, and frame erect. Sitting up straight. “The press. They’ll be all over this. It’s a high-profile case and your first time headlining our team. They may doubt your abilities but stay strong. Keep your head down, do your job and stay out of trouble. We don’t want people finding reasons to create mass hysteria. The general public would be frightened of leaving their houses at night. Alright?” He seemed to advise from experience.

“Thank you, sir,” I continued our polite formalities. I wanted to prove my capability of completing the job, that the promotion to inspector was an excellent choice on his behalf. I disappeared into the corridor, exhaling deeply. Relaxing. All four walls felt suspiciously close, like they’d moved overnight. A passing team officer, named Eileen, eyed me curiously.

“You alright?” Eileen enquired in a brittle tone. This wasn’t how DIs were supposed to act.

“Fine.”

We carried on pacing in opposite directions, though I’m sure Eileen kept glanced back a few times. Nobody even noticed their detective inspector sneaking through the communal office. They were all listening intently to McCall’s debriefing. Asking questions, joking and scrawling vital down. DC Taylor sat closest to McCall, drowning in every word she uttered. Infatuation, I supposed. Nothing would come of it though. Surely? McCall knew better than to get involved in such trivial affairs.

Listen to me. Sounding jealous. I wasn’t. Caring for the team dynamic and what contributed best to individual cases was a detective