Strains of Innocence by Jacqueline New

Strains of Innocence by Jacqueline New

Author:Jacqueline New [New, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-15T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER NINETEEN

GOT ONE WAS WHAT REID HAD SAID. Got one. He didn’t need to explain what he’d got. There was only one kind of crime to which Mac would be assigned that required no description or explanation. It was a dead body. Mac knew that he was Reid’s first choice as DCI. Above Akhtar. He took a measure of pride in that. Akhtar might be able to climb the ranks politically, but she couldn’t match Mac as a detective. Once more, he was heading west into the affluent suburb of Corstorphine.

It reminded him of the evening he had spent with Clio and Maia. He had drunk more than he had intended, all with the intention of leaving less for Clio to drink. In the end, he’d been drunk and Clio had been…not so drunk. He remembered laughter and music, Maia sleepily coming down the stairs to protest at the noise in a bizarre reversal of roles. Then waking up on Clio’s sofa, top to tail with her, Maia curled up in an armchair. They’d been watching movies; he vaguely remembered insisting on Spinal Tap. Their reaction brought a smile to his face.

“Share the joke, guv?” Nari asked.

She was in the passenger seat of Mac’s courtesy car, reviewing the case file on her phone. Mac had absorbed the salient facts from the files emailed to him from Reid’s office. They’d become burned into his brain, a trick he’d learned over the years.

“No joke. Just…remembering something. Ignore me. Remind me where we’re headed.”

He knew exactly where they were headed, had looked it up online and memorised the route. But it gave him something to distract Nari. Hopefully forget seeing him go all sentimental. Mac straightened his mouth and gritted his teeth behind his lips, not allowing himself another sign of weakness.

“It’s a recycling depot just outside of town, right next to the airport. Workers found a car abandoned and a body inside. We follow this road, then head onto the Turnhouse Road until we see the signs.”

“Right.”

“Guv, can I ask you a question?” Nari asked in a loaded voice.

“Sure,” Mac replied, focusing on the road.

They passed the roundabout that would lead to Drum Brae Drive and, eventually, Clio’s place. The houses to either side were either one storey or one and a half, looking like bungalows, but with windows set into the roof line giving away the fact there was an upper floor. The car had been found less than a mile from this cosy suburb. Mac found it jarring that violent crime would exist in a place like this. He knew that was prejudice. There was no reason why people in Corstorphine wouldn’t be just as capable of violence as people in Craigmillar.

But it seemed to fit into the latter. In places like this, with pensioners walking dogs and gardens well-kept, expensive German SUVs in the driveways and solar panels on the roofs, it seemed out of place. It was a mindset he tried to push away, not wanting it to cloud his judgement.



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