Cold Blooded by Duncan Wallace

Author:Duncan Wallace [Wallace, Duncan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-11-03T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

It was a bright and early Saturday morning. A chill wind whipped through the air, and I had a positive skip in my step. We had David Morris’ address and were on our way to his home for, what we hoped would be, one final round of questions before we arrested him.

“I have a good feeling about today,” Emma declared.

“I feel the same way,” I agreed. “That gut feeling has returned good and proper.”

I had barely slept the night before, and for once it wasn’t the nightmares that had caused my insomnia, but all the various scenarios that swarmed around my head. I had dreams of throwing a set of cuffs around David’s wrists and then listening to his confession as he was led away.

“Are you ready for some serious interrogation?” Emma rubbed her hands together mischievously as she grinned at me.

“Of course,” I smirked. “Are you?”

“If I had to say which I was more excited for, this or the bottle of wine waiting for me at home,” Emma sniggered, “I’d find it hard to choose.”

“If you can’t have wine after an interrogation, when can you?” I asked sarcastically.

“I mean,” Emma winced, “I have wine after the gym, but that is completely missing the point here.”

It was clear from the look and location of David’s house that he had some money and must’ve lived a rather comfortable life. He had a set of closed iron gates at the front of the large driveway, and so we parked the car along the side of the road and went in on foot. I took a quick note of the cars parked outside his house, one being a black BMW Z4 convertible, and the other a white Range Rover Evoque complete with black rims and tinted windows. Both cars had personalised licence plates, with ‘MOR’ being the first three letters. I have nothing against people who own personalised plates, and I had to admit that his plates seemed to fit his character like a glove.

I had to stop the car enthusiast inside of me from inspecting the cars any closer than a quick look as we walked past, but the detective in me noticed something else. There was no sign of a red Peugeot, and after seeing the cars here, the one that Ewan described didn’t fit David’s lifestyle at all.

“Remind me to check for stolen cars after this,” I whispered to Emma.

“Noted,” she replied under her breath.

It made sense that David would use a different car. His own were too easily identified, and any nosey neighbours would have paid attention to the high end automobiles with the personalised plates. But stolen cars are reported every day, and tend to be used for criminal acts just so that it can’t be traced back to the guilty party. If we could find the report of a stolen car that matched Ewan’s description, and with a plate that potentially starts with an ‘S’, we’d have another way to tie David to the murders.

Emma arrived

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