Blood in the Water by Oliver Davies

Author:Oliver Davies [Davies, Oliver]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-07T22:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Back at the station, I left Ewan MacLeod and the duty sergeant to get Aaron Whitaker booked in and taken to holding while I went upstairs to confer with Trish Morrison.

“So what now, Conall?” she wanted to know. “All we can do is confiscate the money. We’ll probably have to cut Whitaker loose again in a few hours. You don’t have enough evidence to charge him with anything, not without a voluntary confession.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, waiting to see how I wanted to handle the situation.

“We might find something when we visit the distillery.” Some minor trace evidence, at least, hopefully. “I’m confident that Angus will be happy to let us search the place once he hears about Aaron’s ‘sick day’ plans and the money.” The chair I was sitting in didn’t swivel, but I found myself automatically trying to spin it. “And I’d like an informal little chat with Whitaker before we head over there. There’s a good chance I can talk him into being cooperative. He’s scared, Trish, and he doesn’t know how little we have.”

“Alright, you can certainly do that, but I’m coming to observe.” I was going to ask her to do that anyway because it could be useful to have her there. I also wanted Trish, or someone from her team, to conduct the formal interview when the time came. Whitaker wasn’t a suspect in my case, and I wasn’t about to volunteer to take on another one here. “Do you want to do that now?”

“Not just yet.” What I wanted was for Shay to find me something to give me more of an edge before I tackled Whitaker. If I slipped up and he started to think I was fishing, he’d clam up like a shot. “I’d like to leave him to think for a while.”

Trish Morrison’s piercing dark eyes still reminded me of James McKinnon. I had no idea what she might be thinking, but something seemed a little off there today.

“Fine. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll come down.” I could see the stack of files piled up in her tray, waiting for her attention, but she just kept eyeing me thoughtfully as I stood to go. “Do you think Damien Price was killed because he accidentally stumbled across a smuggling operation?” she asked me. “Because I looked into your Mr Locke, and violence of any kind doesn’t seem to fit his profile at all.”

“No, I don’t,” I admitted. “I have no idea why Mr Price was killed. I only know that Jordan and Phelps orchestrated that death between them and that we need to bring them in. Aaron Whitaker may be able to point me in their direction, and that’s as far as my interest in him extends.”

“You’re still focused on the Price case, then? Not going to let a feather in your cap like uncovering what may turn out to be a major pipeline for illegal goods distract you?”

Well, at least I knew what had been troubling her now.

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