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

People prefer the fruity scents, not these overly strong flavoured ones. The boss won’t listen though, still ordered a couple hundred in.” She rethought her actions. “Sorry, I shouldn’t complain to you. What can I help you with?”

“DI Cooper. And that’s my colleague…” I tried to find McCall. She was the one tapping the noisy wind chimes non-stop. “DS McCall. I apologise on her behalf.”

The shopkeeper laughed before switching to a solemn expression. “We’re not in any trouble, are we? Our computer systems are all broken, but we’ve got proof of ingoings and outgoings. Hurt my hand writing them all down,” she explained, tapping a huge logbook.

“No, nothing of the sort,” I dismissed her concerns. “This may sound strange, but could I have a look at the incense that’s burning?”

Although my request was strange, the shopkeeper had heard worse.

“Do you want one straight from the box?” She offered to open a new box and hand over a fresh stick.

“No, the stick which is burning now,” I reiterated.

“Uhm, okay.” She cautiously brought over the heated burner. I had a look inside, to see purple ash decorating below the burning stick, loose powder falling from the burning stick.

I reached in, much to the shopkeeper's reluctance. “It’s hot,” she warned, in case I didn’t already know.

“I can see that.” I pointed towards the lit flame. My fingers dipped and retreated from the holder, covered in a fine powder, exactly as they did from Laura’s house when I rifled through the bin to find our ring. I rubbed my fingers together, traces of colour already staining them.

“McCall,” I shout-whispered, disturbing a few customers from their chilled shopping.

McCall drifted over, chewing her gum distractedly. The shopkeeper viewed us doubtfully, contemplating whether we were genuine professionals. We were a bit chalk and cheese and distracted easily.

“Can I be of any more service?” The shopkeeper’s smile wavered.

“Do you stock these rings here?” McCall spoke confidently, shoving the ring by the shopkeepers till.

The shopkeeper inspected the ring gently, nodding in approval. “We did. They all sold out recently. This would’ve been one of the last to go as we only had extremely small sizes or large ones left. They’re popular for Christmas presents, you see.”

“Would we be able to search through your logbook?” I requested politely, not caring for permission, I would’ve had a look whether she agreed or not.

“Go ahead.” She pushed it over on the wooden, imperfect desktop, aware of avoiding splinters.

McCall looked over my shoulder as I flicked through the logs slowly. Taking a napkin from the canteen from my pocket, I used it as a bookmark for the page with Laura’s death date first. Then, I moved backwards in the log to the date their new incense scent arrived and their last ring sold. It would be a rare occurrence for two people to buy the same two things in a shop this size, in between the same dates.

McCall caught onto my method and helped out, sifting through the many logged customers transactions, until we both pointed at the same one.

“Three days before Laura’s death, someone brought the last ring and a box of incense,” McCall repeated.

“Two of which were found at Laura’s flat.” I waved over the shopkeeper interacting with a customer deliberating over which ornament to purchase. “Would we be able to have your CCTV footage from the seventeenth?” I pointed to the array of cameras filming everyone.

“I told you earlier, our computer’s down,” she said regretfully. “All the video files were saved onto its internal hard drive.”

“Bugger,” McCall cursed.

“It’s getting fixed next week. I can call you when it’s done, if you like?” the shopkeep offered kindly.

McCall scribbled our office number down into their logbook as I tutted.

“Ideally, the sooner, the better, but that’s not your fault,” I told the shopkeep. “Anything helps in the long run. For now, can you remember who bought these?” I crossed my fingers. It wasn’t that long ago the items were purchased, after all.

The shopkeeper squeezed her eyes shut, humming in thought. “It was a guy, but there could be two people I'm thinking about. I see so many people each day,” she explained sincerely, flicking her hair out of her face. “Either he was wearing all black--”

I stole a glance at her customers. They were all dressed in black, gothic colours.

“Or a red hoodie with the hood up,” she finished.

“Old or young?” I blurted out, desperate to grab whatever we could get our hands on.

“Youngish,” she reported with finality, certain of at least one fact.

“What about his shoes?” McCall rubbed her arm on mine, signalling an important fact I’d forgotten during our mad rush.

“Boots. Not anything special, though caked in mud. He left a whole trail of footprints for me to mop up for hours after. God only knows where he walked in from,” she mentioned conversationally.

Bingo.

25

“Finlay Cooper, don’t you dare go rushing off without me,” McCall demanded. We’d thanked our complying shopkeeper and were heading down to the church, presumably where Laura was last seen. “Absolutely everyone owns a red hoodie and muddy shoes at some point in their lives. We still don’t know anything else about the killer, not until the security footage comes back.”

“So I’ll ask around at the church. See if they noticed anyone of said description,” I persisted, marching well ahead of a breathless McCall.

“Why are you so desperate to prove yourself?” She shouted over Dalgety's brisk wind which only worsened.

“Because I have something to prove,” I called back over my shoulder. “I can do this.”

“Nobody thinks any differently,” McCall insisted, stumbling over a drain cover.

“Yes, they do.” I turned back to face McCall with unexpected resentment suddenly deciding to pour from my veins. “Georgina Ryder, for one. Secondly, I've heard our entire team talking behind my back, by the printer or in the canteen. Wherever I go, they talk about my ability as their detective inspector. My sister, I have to prove that I can protect her and every other innocent child and parent from harm's way.