The Devil's Due: A Cooper and McCall Scottish Crime Thriller by Ramsay Sinclair (good inspirational books .TXT) 📗

“Probably what they hoped for in the woods. That their evidence would burn to ash and leave the animals as a distraction,” DCI Campbell thought out loud. “Time of death?” He looked to the pathologist for further details.

“I’d say roughly five hours before the body was uncovered. Unfortunately for the attacker, he didn’t push the body in far enough for it to be unnoticeable. Physically moved, due to the stiffening of his bones and muscles.”

The pathologist started to place the sheet back over Gavin’s limp body, which had changed to a horrible blue shade.

“He?” McCall picked up on the smallest insight.

“I’d say so. Gavin was a heavy lad,” the pathologist noted. “Only a few women could manage all of his weight in one go.”

“Or there was more than one killer? One could have easily suffocated Gavin, whilst another stabbed him.” I prayed my random guesses were wrong. One killer was enough to deal with.

The pathologist continuously hiked the sheet back up until I stopped him.

“What about the mark on his bicep?” I mentioned, and my two workers buzzed in anticipation. “We thought it was from a smaller knife, or could it be from the same weapon?”

“Small and almost unnoticeable,” the pathologist noted. “At first, it appeared to be no more than a normal cut from the struggle. The same knife could’ve done this if they used less force.”

A killer marking his victim.

“Why would he risk being seen over such a small mark?” McCall pondered to herself, watching over Gavin’s limp arm.

“Well, he did murder Gavin,” I scoffed. “He’s not exactly sane in the head, is he?”

DCI Campbell coughed in disbelief. “Are you two really arguing over this? Get over it, both of you, there are more important issues at hand,” he reminded us.

McCall started to roll her eyes, but got distracted in an epiphany. “You said Gavin was stabbed by a key at first,” she prompted the pathologist who nodded plainly. “Could these be the same keys used to open the club equipment shed? And if so, where are they now?” McCall, no matter how annoyed I was with her, posed an excellent observation.

DCI Campbell beamed from ear to ear. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

I was sick of revisiting the sailing club, always driving back and forth. We could make the journey with our eyes closed by now. Sharing a car with McCall and DCI Campbell had to be the worst part. Firstly, McCall ignored me entirely. Secondly, DCI Campbell brought along some unbearably strong coffee. I was shoved in the back seat, window wide open to get rid of the smell.

“My son arranged a gathering at the pub on Christmas eve,” DCI Campbell informed McCall, their gossiping driving me crazy. “You’re welcome to come along.”

It sounded more like an order than a request, and I pretended not to listen.

“That means you as well, Cooper, so long as you don’t start any trouble. I know you’re listening.” He had a jolly twinkle in his eye. “If we’ve solved the case by then, we can all relax in time for Christmas. One last hurrah.”

I watched his expression in his wing mirror as McCall asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’d all find out sooner or later,” DCI Campbell admitted. “I’m retiring in time for the new year.”

McCall gasped, not ready for him to leave so soon. He was the only DCI we’d known at the station.

“I’ve realised how old I’m getting, and quickly too. I want a simple life with my wife and kids, rather than fast-paced action and bickering,” he hinted at us two. “I’ve missed so much of them during these last few years. Everything happens so fast.” A gentle expression fell across his face. “It’s my time to take it slow, put my feet up. I’ve had to be less involved in our cases recently because my body can’t catch up. If I stay any longer, I’ll be a part of the station's original foundations.”

“I’ll be sorry to see you go, Guv,” McCall said politely, realising it would best for him in the long run. He’d slowed down in the last couple of years, I had to admit.

“Not as sorry as I’ll be,” Campbell chuckled. “Who’s going to snap your miserable lot into shape, eh? Especially Cooper. He needs watching.”

Our differences aside, DCI Campbell was a respectable man. He’d introduced me to CID and was the one to promote me to DI. Despite our opposite opinions on handling cases, DCI Campbell had never shied away from handing me responsibilities, and I could respect that decision.

“Don’t refuse the party, Cooper,” DCI Campbell warned, knowing I liked to wriggle out of team nights out like those. “After seeing those newspapers yesterday, we all know you enjoy a bit of a party.”

“Very funny, sir,” I sighed for his benefit. Perhaps, in hindsight, he could always leave earlier. I could work with that.

“Until then, no rest for the wicked. I want this guy captured before I leave,” DCI Campbell affirmed, switching off from our interaction to discuss a plan of proceedings. We were at the club now, and McCall searched for somewhere to park.

My duty was to find out who kept hold of their keys and scour through their tons of members to find Sammy Davis. Amongst all the anarchy, McCall pushed past groups of gossiping sportsmen, trying her best not to sneak a peek. They were all old enough to be her father.

Sammy Davis was immediately distinguishable from the other guys. He stood boyish, and tall. A man who commanded attention without asking for it. That charming smile of his captured sailing club wives’ hearts and McCall’s undivided attention. She had already wormed her way into a group discussion, taking her friendly neighbourhood police approach.

Sammy clocked me straight away. He greeted me with an observational salute and excused himself from a discussion some people were mid-way through. We joined up nearby the waterline where small waves lapped in and out to its own invisible rhythm.

“Hi. Again,” Sammy Davis breathed heavily, having