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

“Jack Harper?” I asked softly, the subject still sore from yesterday’s quarrel. DCI Campbell tutted and changed his stance.

“Trust you to ask, Cooper. After your little show last night, I posted surveillance to watch them overnight. DC Murphy and DC Staines are over there,” DCI Campbell broke off and pointed at the two officers pushing each other stupidly into the fire pit.

“I’m sure they took their task seriously,” I pursed my lips at the fact he entrusted them.

“I wanted the whole team down here and scouring the scene. Otherwise, we would have discovered these matches. Whoever the criminal is, they’re a right little firestarter.”

“Bit of a creep, if you ask me,” I retorted, taking particular interest in the likes of DC Cillian Murphy and DC Ben Staines. They were taking notes and photographs of the recent crime scene. But I had a few questions of my own.

The two constables barely noticed my presence, exchanging a rapid rapport between themselves. It wasn’t until I cleared my throat that they acknowledged me.

“Good morning, Sir,” DC Staines greeted, wiping his muddy hands onto his trousers. “Rough night?” They noticed then.

“You could say that. I have a couple of questions. The guv posted you two outside Jack Harper’s house last night, didn’t he?” I double-checked to ensure he wasn’t lying to my face. “Did you see anything… you know… suspicious?”

“Nothing. He didn’t leave, and most of the curtains were drawn so that we couldn’t see much. It was late by the time we were stationed outside.” DC Staines shrugged, enlisting DC Cillian Murphy as his backup. They supported each other completely.

“No one left?” I thought that should have been an obvious question.

“No one left, no. His friend went over at about ten last night,” DC Cillian Murphy added with no conviction. Where did we find these detectives? Poundland, apparently.

“What did this friend look like? Rough height, appearance, or anything?” I persisted, pushing them into revealing more information. They were uncomfortable, I could tell.

There was a pause, a hesitation. Then silence.

“Actually, sir, the Guv said you weren’t thinking straight,” DC Cillian Murphy admitted quietly. DCI Campbell ordered our team not to trust me with vital information.

“I am now. This is important,” I insisted, practically begging them.

They both looked behind their shoulders to ensure DCI Campbell wasn’t around. My pride stung from the fact my own superior officer felt that he couldn’t trust me anymore.

“He was tallish. Blonde, kind of. Wearing simple clothes. Grey. No. Possibly black,” DC Staines finalised, proud that he recalled some information.

“Right.” They had to be the dimmest constables in our office. “Time of departure?” I broke off, analysing their blank stares. DC Staines searched his memories. “What time did he leave?” I reorganised the sentence into simpler words, ones they might understand better.

Those animals were making last night’s drink and this morning’s bacon sarnie churn deep within my stomach. If only DC Staines and Murphy could hurry up. Then we’d all be out of here in a shot. Finally, DC Cillian Murphy spoke up.

“Good question, sir. No one asked us that one yet.” He paused for a moment. “He didn’t.”

A moment of dread hit all of my bones in progression until my brain broke me out of it. Crap, I inwardly cursed. That slimy bugger. The ground had become squelchy and bog-like, due to all our officers churning it over with our feet.

“Finlay?” McCall stopped my pacing, aware that the other officers were scrutinising me.

“DCI Campbell, sir,” I grabbed our superior’s attention. DCI Campbell, though elderly, still had perfect hearing. His eyebrows raised in question towards me, awaiting an explanation. “DC Staines and Murphy were put on surveillance last night. It wasn’t your smartest decision I've witnessed.”

“Excuse me?” DCI Campbell was warning, not asking.

“A friend visited Jack Harper last night. Bit odd, because he waited until ten to visit him,” I began, and McCall listened intently. “The friend never left.”

“Bit old to be arranging sleepovers, isn’t he?” McCall completed my thought dryly.

DCI Campbell rubbed his hands together grimly, swallowing his pride. Hesitant to admit that I had a valuable point. He pretended everything was fine and spoke firmly. “Right, well. We’d best find out exactly who that friend is.”

When we arrived at Jack Harper’s house, the stench from those dead animals still lingered in our clothes. None of us was in any mood to negotiate, nor deal with any crappy excuses. Everything led us back to Jack Harper.

My knocks were grave and stern, letting whoever was inside know that Finlay Cooper wasn’t in the mood for games. DC Taylor hung back, volunteering to come along for any excuse to escape our stuffy office. McCall answered the radios, keeping a secure line of connection and communication between DCI Campbell and us.

“Open the door. It’s CID,” I shouted loud enough so even their neighbours could hear and twitch their curtains.

Jack’s door soon opened timidly to reveal the guy who matched our Tweedledee and Tweedledum's descriptions. Tallish. Blond. Plain. An average Joe. McCall did the honours of flashing our badges towards the bloke.

“We want a word with your friend. Jack Harper.” I invited myself in, much to the bloke's annoyance.

“Do you have a warrant?” he asked.

“Don’t need one. Who are you anyway?” I shot out.

“Jack’s friend.”

“Okay, Jack’s friend. Did he ask you to come around last night?” McCall grilled him.

“I’m not saying anything.” Jack’s friend objected.

“Did he bribe you? Is he paying you to stay quiet?” I noticed the bloke guard his wallet sensitively. “I’ll pay you double to spill the details,” I snidely brought a twenty out of my pocket.

“Finlay!” McCall couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Jack told me to stay overnight. Move around a few times, you know? He didn’t say why or where he was going to go.”

“How did he leave?” I waved the twenty coaxingly in front of his face.

“He knew you guys were watching him. Went over the back fence. That’s the last I saw of him. Didn’t tell me nothing else.” The