DI Monica Kennedy: Dark Waters (2) by Halliday G R

Author:Halliday, G R [Halliday, G R]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, mystery, suspense, thriller, police procedural, police detectives, female detectives, Scotland, Scottish, Tartan Noir, Scottish Highlands, DI Monica Kennedy
ISBN: 9781473565340
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2020-07-15T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 51

After looking for him at The Clach and then at his flat up in Hilton, Monica and Crawford eventually found Big Bill Macdonald in the driveway of his elderly mother’s house.

It was late morning, one of those spring days in the Highlands when the huge blue skies streaked by cloud carry the promise of youth. Or nostalgia for youth, Monica had thought as she’d climbed out of the Volvo and looked warily up and down the row of brown semi-detached council-built houses. Less than a minute’s walk round the corner from her mum’s in the Marsh and far too close to home. She leaned over the same metal gate as she had thirty years before as a skinny fourteen-year-old with no clue about the world. Watching as Bill Macdonald worked at a car again. And she wondered for a moment just how the hell she’d let her life bring her right back here?

As the thought drifted up a memory rose with it. Of her father, dressed in a white shirt and his work trousers. Standing at that corner one evening at dusk. She must have forgotten the time, been late home from school. Because when she finally noticed him standing there he was watching as she laughed at something Bill had said. Pointing at the watch on his opposite wrist with his thick index finger. Watching all the time as she turned away, hurried along the road towards him.

She suppressed the uncomfortable memory, cleared her throat. Bill turned from the car engine he was pondering, his wide face lighting up when he saw her.

‘Monica! I tried phoning you at your mum’s.’ His initial enthusiasm fell away when his eyes landed on Crawford, a few paces along the road from her, staring over the fence himself. Bill straightened and slowly wiped his hands on a rag then dropped the bonnet closed on the Ford Focus. ‘Just a fuse that had gone. Mum always assumes it’s serious,’ he muttered as his eyes went from Crawford to Monica.

‘My mum told me you called … I’m here about something else though.’

‘I need to get cleaned up for work.’

‘It won’t take long.’ Monica watched as Bill ran a hand across the blond stubble on his face. ‘You’ve managed The Clach a few years now?’

‘That’s right,’ he replied slowly. ‘Since 2010.’

‘Bit of a change. Don’t know how they dragged you away from under those car bonnets.’ Monica tried to force some lightness into her voice.

Bill coughed and glanced over at the open front door of his mother’s house. ‘Rough on your body. Years working on engines.’

‘Your dad liked motorbikes when he was alive. Didn’t he?’ This time Bill didn’t reply, probably sensing where the conversation was headed. ‘We’re trying to get hold of someone. A suspect in a serious case we’re investigating. A man called Francis MacGregor. I think you might know him.’ Monica watched the pupils in Bill’s blue eyes widen almost imperceptibly. ‘He owns The Clach, doesn’t he?’

‘You tell me,’ Bill said finally with a laugh.

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