The Devil's Due: A Cooper and McCall Scottish Crime Thriller Ramsay Sinclair (ebook reader with internet browser txt) 📖

Catherine to open up to us. I mentally noted her body language, something which McCall always urged me to do, but I’d never seen much point in doing that.

Let’s see. Folded arms, head bowed down. Her feet were planted closer together than a normal person’s. She wasn’t relaxed in the slightest, but she’s in a police station, surrounded by pervy officers, excited by even a peep of skin. Who could blame her? Catherine’s fingers fiddled with a small, golden object. I squinted to see it better. A ring of sorts.

DC Taylor hushed her cries in a desperate bid to get some information out of her.

“It’s my parents’ house. They were away for the week,” Catherine managed to explain, wiping her nose by using the back of her hand. Her parents' house.

“Where have they gone?” I asked.

“Away. To Edinburgh. It’s their anniversary,” she explained wistfully. Her voice came out thick and snotty.

DC Taylor shared a look with me. He was uncertain whether they should continue asking the poor girl questions, but this was important work. We may have caught Jack, but we needed more incriminating evidence. Evidence that was not purely circumstantial.

“You’re not going to tell my parents, are you? Please don’t tell them.” Catherine became frantic and jumped back into life. “They can’t ever know. They wouldn’t understand.” She was distressed and had kept secrets from said parents.

“I think your neighbours may do that job for us,” DC Taylor made a valid point and rubbed Catherine’s back to ease her crying.

“How old are you, Catherine?” Again, I studied her body language when she told me her real age.

“Eighteen.”

“What was Jack Harper doing at your house? He was your doctor a couple of months back, wasn’t he?” I stood up tall and crossed my arms.

The teenager didn’t react. I reckoned Jack had warned her that we were onto him and debriefed her on what she should and shouldn’t say. Catherine Jones had a metaphorical filter placed inside her mouth. Her brain physically processed every thought from her brain and sorted them into two categories: speak, and do not speak.

“He signed an agreement—” she mumbled before I cut her off.

“Which kept the news from the press, if Jack Harper removed himself from the premises effective immediately,” I explained. “No court case, no charge. Only recently was that information brought to police attention.”

Catherine appeared crestfallen. “I can’t tell you,” she cried.

DC Taylor shuffled uncomfortably under my intense glare and knew better than to challenge me. He readjusted his blazer around Catherine’s shoulders and allowed me to continue the informal questioning. Their black hair disappeared against one another, forming a weird connection between the two.

“Why did Jack Harper run to you, Catherine? What are you hiding from us? If he’s threatened you, then tell us. He can’t hurt you anymore. We’ve got him.”

I crouched down in front of the youthful girl. She tried desperately to avoid any eye contact, but it all proved useless in the end. I wasn’t going to let her off that easily. Those slim brown orbs attached to mine, full of fear and desperation. We stayed like that for around five minutes before Catherine broke away.

“I’m not saying anything. I can’t,” she said at last. “Whatever I say would be used against him, and your preconceptions of him would cloud your true judgement.” Catherine’s face set in stone. For such an inexperienced lady, she spoke with the wisdom of an older woman.

I sighed, realising this would be difficult enough without the additional complications. I stood up. “I’m not sure of your involvement in all this, Catherine, but I want you where I can see you.”

DC Taylor knew how serious I was about the matter and chose to keep quiet. He made the smart decision.

We had no time to lose. I wanted Jack Harper exposed today, no matter what the consequences may be. For Catherine and her parents’ sake, I only hoped that the newspapers didn’t feel the need to tear them to shreds because of my involvement.

17

McCall

I felt sorry for the young girl. I remembered being that age, When I was innocent and without a care in the world. I was a happy young girl, with clear visions of what I wanted my future to hold. Since I was about five years old, I longed to be a dancer, but then I watched The Sweeney. My dad showed it to me one night after ballet practice, and the rest was history. I never looked back.

I wondered what Catherine Jones’s dad showed her to end up involved in an extremely messy situation. Love, happiness, respect? Whatever Jack Harper had them involved in, it wasn’t going to be nice. Most CID officers noticed Catherine right away. She stood out as a naïve and vulnerable soul amidst the chaos.

“Sir.” Finlay got held back by an officer to explain the nature of Jack Harper’s arrest to the custody officer to cover our backs legally, that we were well within our rights to hold Harper in the cells whilst questioning him formally.

“If you’re busy, sarge,” DC Taylor always used my formal title when we met within the station. It always felt strange, as we were on a first-name basis any other time. “I’ll look after Catherine for a while longer. I don’t want any of the others taking responsibility. You know what they’re like,” he explained with a grimace.

“Thanks, John,” I replied quietly, out of earshot, earning a bright smile in return. “Jack’s downstairs, waiting for questioning. I want you to wait on our forensics email for the scalpel, and when they come through, tell us right away. It shouldn’t take long, as it’s prioritized.”

“Yes, Sarge,” DC Taylor, John, repeated.

“McCall?” Finlay’s voice caught my attention, resurfaced from his various duties. He waggled a bunch of paperwork in his hand. We were all fed up of paperwork by now, a downside to being a detective. Forms. Health and safety, statements, reports, arresting officer reports. Forensics, solicitor requests. The list quite literally goes on.

Paperwork already