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

“Yeah, well, they probably hate you too.” I retaliated, giving as good as she gave. In some peculiar way, she respected me for talking back.

Stubbing out her cigarette, Miss Ellis glimmered at those two on the sofa. “What’s all this about? I don’t have all day. I’m supposed to be meeting a friend in a while.”

“You must understand that this is hard for us too.” McCall admitted in sorrow, taking a breath. “We were called out this morning to find a body washed up on the bay, discovered by a man on his way into work--”

“It’s got nothing to do with me. Or Gavin. He’s many things but not a murderer.” Miss Ellis interrupted, brushing off McCall’s explanation.

“It was Gavin’s body found washed up on the bay,” McCall explained fully, watching the shocked mother’s cigarette fall lifelessly to the floor.

3

Kris Ellis didn’t react as expected. Instead of crying or sobbing, she elapsed into a state of shock and picked up a second cigarette. Pouring herself a scotch, Kris Ellis swirled the brown alcohol around before downing it in one. Grimacing at the strength. Wiping excess liquid away, she introduced herself properly. After that, we plunged into immediate silence. I decided to begin our job properly.

There remained, after all, a killer on the loose.

“I’m DI Cooper.” Another flash of my DI badge presented itself. “Me and DS McCall here will be working directly on your son’s case.” McCall listened carefully to our interaction, directly facing Kris Ellis. “I know it seems very soon after his death, but we need your compliance. We have reasonable grounds to treat this death as a homicide case. If you can share any information about Gavin with us, the last time you saw him, where he was going? Who were his friends or enemies?”

“But…” McCall added pointedly, aiming this speech towards me too. “Don’t feel pressured to remember anything. This is a hard time you’re going through, and your thoughts may not be as clear as they should.” McCall raised her ginger tinted brows soothingly, and Kris sighed in agreement. The cat favourably swapped places, settling itself upon Kris Ellis’s lap in sinister sweetness.

“This is your family liaison officer.” McCall ran through formalities with Kris. “She’ll be your main point of contact throughout our investigation. If at any point you remember anything, want reassurance or guidance, then contact her. She’ll be communicating information between the three of us and always spare time to visit you.”

Sometimes, kindness and protocol allowed those involved in larger cases to be overly protected from law and consequences. Too many legalities ended up covering guilty suspects’ backs and allowed them to wriggle off the hook before. Gut instinct and pressure determined better results. Bring back old methods of policing, I say.

Bored with protocol run downs, I discovered some crisps in my pocket. Heaven knows how long they’d been residing there for. McCall eyeballed me, the rustling of my crisp packet distracting. Without care for decorum, I took a large bite into my salted food. Severely outnumbered by women. They were still mid-discussion, but we lacked information. We required results before Kris Ellis’s memory failed to serve her.

“When did you last see Gavin?” I grilled Kris firmly, cutting their exchange short. Kris scrutinized me shiftily, probably believing I thought her guilty.

“Four days ago,” she replied.

McCall slammed her hand down in frustration at my dismissive nature. Our FLO listened intently, jotting notes down.

“And what happened?” I continued. “Where was he going?”

“I’m not sure. Gavin could have been with friends or taking a walk by himself. He is old enough to go out alone.” Kris shrugged, staring at her fluffy slippers. The cat yawned in agreement, silently backing up his owner.

“Which friends?” Both arms folded flat across my chest.

“I don’t know. Gavin kept us separate. No teenage boy introduces friends to their mothers. All I know is they got him in trouble too often.” She sniffed and picked up another blasted cigarette.

I cannae be tempted. Cigarettes are a bad habit, nothing more. McCall inhaled, about to chastise those chosen interrogation methods, but I didn’t give her the chance.

“Were you not worried when he didn’t come home that night?” I queried, prodding the untamed beast further. Kris’s grey eyes flickered. She withheld information, I could feel it deep within my bones.

That sadistic cat meowed again, conferring with Kris. ‘Should we tell him, or shouldn’t we?’

“No. Not really. Gavin is still practically a teenager. We all stayed over our friends’ houses at that age.” Kris took a long sip of water. The family liaison officer made sure she was drinking sensibly from then on. No more scotch. A drunken lead helped nobody, least of all a team with only one possible lead.

“Four days? That’s a long time for your only son to not come home.” I calculated four days using my fingers as a visual cue. Kris Ellis said nothing, so I continued. “Come to think of it, I don’t see any of his belongings around the house.”

McCall surveyed the room with wide eyes, as did our liaison officer. They only just noticed. We were supposed to be detective inspectors and detective sergeants. Detective being the operative word. We were supposed to notice these things, including smaller details.

“Why don’t you have any of Gavin’s belongings, Kris?” I pinched my nose in frustration.

Kris Ellis sighed, leaving us to waft cigarette ashes away. Behind me a wall clock ticked impatiently, counting down precious time we had to find this killer before disappearing off-grid. Criminals move quickly. They could be miles away by now. If they were smart enough to chuck their murder weapon, they could be smart enough to throw diversions to cover up any tracks.

“If you have nothing to be guilty of, we can help. Our priority here is to stop this happening to somebody else’s son. To get justice for Gavin.” McCall revealed persuasively. What mother could deny that bargain? McCall watched Kris Ellis carefully, shoulders hunched in tension. Her