Death in the Black Wood, Oliver Davies [short story to read TXT] 📗

By ten o’clock, I was all caught up on the later updates that had been added to the case folder. I’d read the transcripts of the calls made to the owners of the stolen cars and the report put in by the patrollers who’d spoken to the night porter at the Premier Inn. The watch on the cemetery had not resulted in any sightings of anyone leaving there and an early morning sweep of Tomnahurich on foot hadn’t found anything. Having finished with all of that I got up to go and put the kettle on. We might as well all have a hot drink before leaving. Those door-to-door enquiries would take a few hours to get through. Our four constables drifted into the break room to join me as they too finished reading.

“That cousin of the boss’s seems to crop up in all sorts of odd situations,” Mary Walker commented once we were all standing around with full mugs. “First the Ramsay case, then that business over in Stornoway last year and now this.”

“Well, he is a qualified specialist consultant,” Collins reminded her, “so it’s not that surprising, really. I bet he gets called in on all sorts of cases. That bit in his statement about linking Kinmylies to Arnold’s military past was a good hunch to follow too, as things turned out. And that drone of his was more effective than two dozen of us on the ground would have been.”

“That’s all true enough, but specialist consultants don’t usually disarm suspects, climb cliffs, perform emergency first aid, and get SOCO training, all on top of whatever their areas of expertise are. And now he’s a fully certified drone operator too?” Walker turned to eye me curiously. “You’ve met the man quite a few times, Sarge. What do you make of him?”

“Shay Keane? He’s ridiculously smart.” I sipped at my tea while I thought of something innocuous enough to throw out. “He comes across as a little eccentric, like a lot of those super brainy types do, but I know that Chief Superintendent Anderson and James McKinnon both think very highly of his work.”

“But he’s also a civilian, right? Doesn’t it strike you as a little odd that he can do all those things?”

I just shrugged.

“If you’re that curious about him, just ask the boss,” I suggested. “I’m sure he’d be delighted to illuminate you.” They all had their backs to the door, so they hadn’t seen Conall standing there yet and I was carefully not looking that way. Collins snorted.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk about his family, or his personal life. If his dad didn’t pop in occasionally, we wouldn’t even know he had one.”

“Do you think his cousin might be some kind of covert agent?” Bryce asked. “That would actually make a lot of sense. Like Mary said, the man seems to have some serious skills… and there are a lot of files in the Ramsay case that we don’t have the clearance to access.”

“Which couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the boys from the Box hijacking the case to hunt for Pete Ferguson?” Conall’s quiet voice interjected derisively. They all turned, startled, to find him standing in the doorway. “I must say, I’m a little disappointed that you can’t think of anything more productive to talk about. I thought you’d be tossing some useful ideas around by now. My mistake. Is there any water left in that kettle, Caitlin?” He had his portable coffee maker in one hand.

“More than enough for that little thing.” I moved out of the way so he could fill it up.

“I gather you’re all caught up on your reading at least,” he said once he’d set his machine up and turned around to face us all. “So, idle and irrelevant speculations apart, you know where we stand. Our suspect is a white male. He’s about my height but perhaps a little bulkier. It’s hard to tell from the footage we have because we don’t know how many layers he may have been wearing under that jacket. We still don’t know his age, but he’s probably under forty. The night porter at the Premier Inn also thought the eyes may have been brown but couldn’t be sure of it. You see a lot of people coming and going in a job like that, and it’s easy for your memory to mix up little details.”

We could all agree with that statement. If I had a quid for every time different witnesses had supplied contradictory information over things like that, I could go on a nice little holiday with the money.

“It will probably be at least a couple of days before we get a report on any physical evidence left in the cars, or a pathology report on the partial remains left at the scene,” Conall continued in the same cool, businesslike tone. “Meanwhile, to start with, this morning, we’re going to focus our efforts on trying to find out where our suspect went to ground after abandoning that second car last night. After locating the vehicle, my cousin spent another twenty minutes checking the area for any sign of the suspect moving around on foot. As there was no sign of him, there’s a good chance he may have taken cover in a nearby building. Don’t forget to ask about checking any peripheral structures such as garages and sheds. Caitlin has maps and address lists ready, so partner up once you’ve finished your break and we’ll get going.” He plucked his cup from under the machine and drank his piping hot mouthful down before rinsing it out under the tap. “Five minutes,” he cautioned them curtly and left us to it.

Our four DCs exchanged unhappy glances.

“Was that message clear enough for you?” Mills asked the others after glancing out to make sure Conall had gone back into his own office. “Shit, guys, you should all know better than to talk about stuff like that when