Blood in the Water: A DCI Keane Scottish Crime Thriller Oliver Davies (my reading book .TXT) đ
- Author: Oliver Davies
Book online «Blood in the Water: A DCI Keane Scottish Crime Thriller Oliver Davies (my reading book .TXT) đ». Author Oliver Davies
He was right. That all sounded extremely suspicious.
âA passenger, then? Someone with a spare set of clothes in their bag?â My first thought.
Anderson grunted noncommittally. âCalMac has provided a full passenger list, and the wife didnât see her man among them when they finally disembarked. As I say, Trish will send you a full report soon. Can you and your cousin get up to the airport at eight tomorrow morning? Iâll have an airbus standing by on the helipad to fly you over to Stornoway. Up to you how you present Mr Keane over there. Iâll fill Trish in on his special status, but thereâs no need for it to go further than that. Your translator, maybe? Or your SOCO man?â
âTranslator, Sir?â
âWell, maybe not. But your Irish wonât be much use to you if any of the locals decide to block you out by jabbering away in Scots Gaelic, will it?â No, it wouldnât. The Scots had had over seven hundred years in which to mangle a perfectly good Irish language out of all recognition. It even looked wrong written down, with the accents slanting the wrong way. âHe might catch something youâd miss⊠and who else knows what else might turn up?â Anderson added reasonably. âYou get people from all over the place visiting the islands these days. But as I said, itâs entirely up to you two how you choose to handle it.â
âYes, Sir.â
âExcellent. McKinnon will send DI Philips down to take over for you at Old Perth Road whilst youâre away, so you neednât worry about any of that. Keep me updated, Conall, and good luck, although I doubt youâll need it.â He rang off rather abruptly, leaving that unsubtle hint of high expectations hanging in the air.
Well, that was just lovely! Hopefully, he wasnât expecting results as speedy as those weâd managed on the Ramsay case in March. That one had been exceptionally quick to crack. I wasnât familiar with DI Philips either, although I suppose I must have seen him around up at HQ. DI Morgan, the man who usually filled in for me when I was on annual leave, must be away himself just now, which was a pity. Morgan was a plodder and a bit of a lazy sod too. He was always happy to let my team just get on with it under Caitlinâs more than adequate supervision.
I picked up the phone again and called Area Commander DCI James McKinnon, the man responsible for the entire Inverness area. Yes, he told me, Morgan was off in Gran Canaria, the lucky devil. McKinnon was quick to assure me that DI Philips, or âyoung Simonâ as he called him, was a decent sort, sharp and steady. I found out later that Philips was thirty-three, just over a year and a half older than I was. Yes, James assured me, of course, he knew how capable Sergeant Murray was, but no, that just wouldnât do.
âAnd honestly, Conall,â he made sure to add, âPhilips isnât going to ruin your precious team for you, so stop worrying about them and get your head in the damn game, laddie.â Like Anderson, James McKinnon had plenty of more important things to occupy himself with. He hung up on me after that last little dig.
Right. I grabbed my jacket and bag. Time to break the news to Caitlin and my DCs.
They were all about as happy to hear of the arrangement as Iâd expected. Nobody likes having a substitute boss sprung on them out of the blue. Well, I amended the thought. Not unless they were glad of any chance to see the back of them for a while. Iâd had a couple like that myself in the past. My lot all looked reassuringly like crestfallen dogs whose owner was dumping them at the kennels. Poor Mills, our greenest DC, looked especially anxious, and it wasnât as if any of us knew how long Iâd be gone for either.
âLetâs not make a big deal of this, people, alright?â I told them reasonably, âIf McKinnon says DI Philips is a good one, then he must be. The commander doesnât mince his words when he has reservations about anyone.â
Glum nods all round. They couldnât argue with that statement. Once theyâd all shut down their workstations and Iâd herded them out and locked up after us, Caitlin and I headed for my car. I knew she was planning to walk home, with it being such a nice day, but she wanted a private little chat first. We leaned companionably against the bonnet of my little Peugeot, a mild, pleasant breeze tugging at our hair.
âThis is good,â she allowed. âFor you, anyway. And Jackie says Philips is alright. He wonât interfere with the way you like things done.â Jackie was a DS up at HQ, one of Caitlinâs âgirlsâ night outâ group. âWell, not much anyway. âEveryone has their own preferred little ways of doing things, I suppose.â
âJust call me if he goes too far with anything, and Iâll have a word myself,â I told her. âAnd try to keep out of A&E while my backâs turned.â
Her cheeky little face broke into an amused smile, and her pretty blue eyes
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