The Angels' Share: A Losers Club Murder Mystery (Book 3) by Yvonne Vincent

Author:Yvonne Vincent [Vincent, Yvonne]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2022-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sergeant Wilson was alone in the police station. She had sent Easy home a couple of hours ago, urging the lad to “get some sleep and with some luck, you might wake up tomorrow with two fucking brain cells to rub together.” She was kind like that. A thoughtful boss who put others’ needs before her own. Also, he was doing her napper in with his constant questions.

‘Where do you think the laptop is, boss?’

‘Are the big boys coming?’

‘Are they nearly here yet?’

‘What do you think they’ll be like?’

‘Should I get more biscuits in for them coming?’

‘Can we get the IT guys in Aberdeen to look at Henderson’s router?’

‘Did the Procurator Fiscal speak to Ted Hyatt’s solicitor yet?’

‘I’ve never really thought about this before. What’s your brain made of?’

It was this last one that had prompted the sending home. She’d always wondered what it would be like to have a child and here she was, spending eight to twelve hours a day with a seven-year-old in a big, hairy body, trying not to let the bugger eat all the chocolate biscuits because he didn’t need the sugar high. He was already climbing the walls with excitement about the big boys coming.

The big boys in question were the Major Investigation Team, due to arrive tomorrow afternoon. The caramel wafers were locked in her desk drawer and the ginger snaps were ready and waiting in the biscuit tin.

Sergeant Wilson was starting to doubt that she’d get these murders cleared up before the MIT arrived. She’d started to write a report for them, detailing what she’d done so far. Which wasn’t nearly enough.

The problem with being on an island was that everything took for-fucking-ever. Easy’s suggestion about the router had actually been quite a good one. If they didn’t have the laptop, they could at least see his browsing history. Only they’d need to send the router to Aberdeen or get one of the nerds to the island. Ditto Ian’s phone, which they’d found in the Ian and Barley soup at the bottom of the mash tun. God knows how the forsensic wankdoodles had missed that! Technically, she should have put the wet phone straight into an evidence bag, and that would have been absolutely the right thing to do if you could just nip down the road and hand it over to the nerds. However, when these things took several days and a ferry ride to resolve, it was far better to put it into a tub of rice to dry out, put the whole lot into an evidence bag, jab some tiny wee holes in the bag to let the air circulate and prevent the whole thing from turning into mouldy fucking pudding, and hope that nobody questioned the chain of custody.

She looked again at her report on Ian Henderson. She felt like she was missing something obvious. What did she know so far? The man wasn’t liked, and his wife wasn’t aware of any friends. He was threatening the First Minister because he’d seen her up to no good.

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