The Relentless Tide (A DCI Daley Thriller) by Denzil Meyrick

Author:Denzil Meyrick [Meyrick, Denzil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Birlinn
Published: 2018-09-05T23:00:00+00:00

26

Kinloch, the present

Daley was working on the clear board in the main CID suite when a sudden gust rattled the windows, prompting him to gaze out into the darkness. The street light danced in the strong wind and rain, illuminating tumbling litter on Main Street and sending the good citizens of the town scurrying into cars; early on the go, perhaps a baker or a nurse, thought Daley. Like his own, occupations to which normal working hours were strangers. He stood still, watching a white plastic bag with absent fascination as it rose into the air, tugged to and fro as though by an invisible hand. It reminded him of a film Liz had liked, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember its name.

Then he pondered upon just how tiny things, mere snippets of conversation, or memories of fleeting seconds in the past, could remain rooted in the mind for no apparent reason.

Behind him, a young DC swore as he typed furiously on a computer keyboard, bringing Daley back to the here and now. The young detective apologised when he realised his boss was in the room.

‘You’ve been spending too much time listening to DS Scott,’ remarked Daley before he turned his attention back to the board and the images that had been roaring silently in his head for days.

A large black-and-white photograph of Helen McNeil in her district nurse’s uniform stared back at him. Alongside, in a colour image, a smiling Colin Galt looked more youthful than the strained individual with whom Daley had become familiar.

Above, various shots of three graves on a lonely Kintyre hillside appeared at odds with one of a happy woman wearing a golden locket in a faded photograph; this was the photograph that had immediately transported him painfully back more than twenty years. A thin red line ran between her image and the skeletal remains lying at the bottom of the impromptu grave nearest the sea: her resting place for all those years. That is, if the brutally murdered could ever truly rest.

The big detective barely registered the opening of the door. He almost jumped when Symington spoke.

‘An old governor I used to work with in Wandsworth nick used to do that, Jim. He stared just the way you’re doing, sometimes for half an hour at a time.’

‘Did it help?’

‘Not really. He was one of the least successful detectives I’ve ever known. I think they call it mindfulness now.’

Daley sighed. ‘I hope you don’t think I’m wasting my time, ma’am.’

‘No, not at all. We all have our own methods. I worry more about manning levels, HR and budgets these days. It’s almost like not being in the police at all.’ It was her turn to stare out on to the windswept streets of the town. ‘Sometimes I feel I’m more akin to a second-rate accountant than a police officer.’

‘Can I have a word with you?’

The two of them walked into Daley’s glass box, and the DCI pushed the door shut with more force than he intended, making it rattle.

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