Murder at Flood Tide: detectives hunt a killer on Edinburgh's streets (The DI Jack Knox mysteries Book 2) by Robert McNeill

Author:Robert McNeill [McNeill, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS best-selling Scottish crime fiction publisher
Published: 2019-09-07T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Newtongrange, on the southern reaches of Edinburgh, was one of many former colliery towns – Loanhead, Bilston and Newcraighall among them – which had changed substantially from the days when the country was dependent on coal.

One of the few legacies of the era were the rows of red-brick dwellings which had housed generations of miners. 6 Cochrane Terrace was now, like its neighbours, a modernised property with a front and back garden, located in the last of eleven parallel streets just a stone’s throw from Scotland’s National Mining Museum, a former pit which was open to the public.

McCann found a parking spot a few doors along, then she and Mason exited the car and made their way back. On approach they saw a youth dressed in overalls working on a motorbike on a paved section of garden. He was bent over the engine, securing a bolt with a spanner.

Mason cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me,’ she said.

The young man turned and glanced at the detectives. ‘Aye?’ he said.

‘We’re looking for Mr Derek Norton,’ McCann said.

He threw the spanner in a toolbox, then picked up a rag and wiped his hands. ‘You’re here to see my dad?’

‘Yes,’ Mason said. ‘We’re police. We made an appointment?’

A fleeting look of concern came over his face, then he regained his composure. ‘Oh,’ he said, pointing towards the door. ‘He’s in. Just ring the bell.’ He turned back to the bike and reached into the toolbox.

The detectives exchanged looks, then McCann pressed the bell.

A tall, dark-haired man opened the door and gave the officers a look of surprise. ‘Yes?’ he said.

‘You’re Derek Norton?’

‘Uh-huh.’

The officers showed him their warrant cards. ‘Detective Sergeant McCann and Detective Constable Mason,’ McCann said. ‘I believe you’re expecting us?’

‘Oh,’ Norton said. ‘I didn’t think it would be women.’ Then, realising the remark might be taken as sexist, quickly added, ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to cause offence…’

McCann gave him a patronising smile. ‘None taken.’

Norton gestured to the hallway. ‘Come in,’ he said. ‘The sitting room’s on your left.’

The detectives entered and Norton ushered them into a room with a wide picture window. A large Persian carpet covered a parquet floor, on which two sofas were arranged at right angles opposite a white marble fireplace.

‘If you’ll take a seat, I’ll nip through to the kitchen and ask my wife to get you a coffee,’ Norton said.

McCann shook her head. ‘Not for me, thanks,’ she said.

Mason added, ‘Nor me, thanks.’

‘Okay,’ Norton said. He took a seat opposite them and made an open-handed gesture. ‘Inspector Knott said on the phone you wanted to speak to me in connection with the murder in Port Seton?’

Mason nodded. ‘Inspector Knox,’ she corrected. ‘The woman was found at Longniddry.’

‘Oh, sorry. Saw it on the telly yesterday. I knew it was somewhere down the coast.’ He shook his head. ‘Inspector Knox said a Bluebird van might be involved?’

‘We believe so, yes,’ McCann replied.

Mason took out her notebook and said, ‘Could we begin by asking where you were between 9pm on Friday and 2am on Saturday morning?’

Norton nodded.

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