One Shot: A DI Sutherland Scottish Crime Thriller Read online

  He liked to make a conscious effort for the person who had supported him through every wacked decision he’d made; from the day he’d shaved all his hair off on a whim to win a secret bet for a fiver with his pals, then his decision to leave behind everything and everyone he knew to join the army.

  “What are all of these things out here for?” He called through to the kitchen to where his Nan was elbow deep in washing up liquid, despite the many offerings of help he’d given her. She enjoyed doting on her only grandson, and he knew it. The whole family did.

  “What things?”

  “On the side cabinet,” he tried again, caressing his stomach, which was stuffed to the brim. Such a grandiose spread wasn’t needed when he came to visit, but no matter how many times he’d insisted on that fact, the meals only got larger and more elaborate the next time. “The papers and all of these forms. It looks... interesting.” He moved a pair of binoculars away from a piece of paper to see it clearly. He recognised the scrawled handwriting. It belonged to the elderly woman in the kitchen.

  She grabbed a tea towel from the countertop and shuffled over to the doorway, watching her grandson rifling through her belongings with a peculiar sense of pride at his inquisitive nature.

  “It’s a list of names for people who want to join our neighbourhood watch group.” She wiped her hands dry, trying her best to ignore the protruding veins and gnarled fingertips she detested so. “I’ve been collecting their signatures all week. Mind you, it’s been one hell of a feat.”

  William frowned. “I didn’t think you had one around here? A neighbourhood watch scheme, that is. I’ve never noticed any signs out on the streets, and the last time I saw you, you didn’t mention anything about it.”

  “Not yet, we don’t,” his Nan winked jovially. She always perked up in the presence of willing company. “But once the police see my list, they can’t refuse an idea that came directly from the people, can they?”

  “Nan,” he said softly, picking up a nearby wire bound notepad. William hated to be the bearer of bad news. “There are only three names on there. Surely that won't be enough to convince them. You can’t waste police time on this sort of stuff. I'm sure they wouldn’t be very happy about it. They’ve more important cases to be dealing with.”

  “There will be more soon.” She seemed unfettered. “But maybe you’re right,” she added upon second thought. “I’ll add your name to the list. They can’t ignore the signature of a soldier.” She excitedly set about finding a pen.

  “I’m only a cook,” William reminded her for the hundredth time. “I make meals, the same as you’ve done for us tonight. That’s all.” He watched her searching through the drawers. His Nan tittered excitedly when she found a working biro. “Plus, I don’t live with you full time. It doesn’t count. I won’t be able to see anything useful happening around the neighbourhood from all the way over at the base.”

  She was too busy scribbling.

  “Why have you taken it upon yourself to shoulder the responsibility? The police should be the ones to suggest it if they’re so worried about the safety of their civilians.” William headed for the floral-patterned couch. His eyes struggled to adjust to the lighting in the sitting room, lit only by a few soft lamps and the glow of the moon shining through the windows. His Nan had a habit of keeping the curtains open until the very moment she went to bed. She had always been a tad nosy, and he wondered if this neighbourhood watch idea had stemmed from her late nights observing the darkened streets from the comfort of her armchair.

  His Nan tutted. “They’re busy chaps.”

  “And women.”

  “And women,” she confirmed. “They used to be called WPCs not so long ago. It’s my duty to assist them in my own way. They’ve done a lot for our town.”

  William fell silent. Sinking gratefully into the cushions. He opened the notepad curiously. Squinting in order to follow the lines of writing across the pages.

  “Richard was excited about the prospect when I told him,” his Nan continued, whitened hair knotted and frenzied from hovering over the hob and oven all day. Preparing the meat, chopping the vegetables and mixing the gravy wasn’t easy work. He could vouch for that. “He’s the fella who lives over the road and down a bit. Nice man is Richard. He’s very kind too, you know, always bringing me flowers and those toffee’s I like.”

  “The one who has a thing for you,” William finished, unbuttoning his top button in comfort. “I remember him well. Are you sure that’s not the only reason he’s offered to sign up for this? To impress you?” He let out a sneaky grin.

  “Don’t be daft, you cheeky so-and-so,” she wheezed.

  “Anyway, I thought this was a relatively safe neighbourhood. The only people who live here are families with young children and old...” William trailed off.

  His Nan turned to face him. “Old people,” she finished, and he sent her a guilty, tight-lipped smile. “I’m not afraid of age, you know. All the best things mature with age. Take that wine which has been in my cupboard for donkey’s years for an example.” She shuffled over to the worn armchair and sighed in relief. Resting her chin in her palm, his Nan did the same as she did every evening. Kept a weathered eye on the outside world. “There’s been real movement out there this past week, William. Men. Dressed in black.”

  “What’s out there then? Aliens?”

  She didn’t understand the joke. He supposed she’d never seen the films.

  “Nan, lots of people wear black clothes,” William motioned towards his own trousers. “Are you sure you’re not paranoid? Sitting here by yourself can’t do you any good. It makes you over analyse what’s going on out there, and soon enough, you’ll start jumping when a cat walks past or you see a shadow on the wall.”

  His Nan was otherwise occupied, lost in her own thoughts.

  “I’ll tell you something, William. Everything’s changed since I was a young lass. Back then, everyone knew everyone. Even the criminals. We’d know exactly who they were, what their names were, and their families, too, especially if they were living on your street. ‘There’s Ernie,’ we’d say to each other. ‘Watch your purses. He’s got a fond habit of nicking them.’” She cackled. “I miss those days. Grand, they were.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “Nowadays, you’re lucky if you know the people living right next door to you. I mean, really know them. People are afraid to talk to each other anymore. The world turned cruel, dark. Frightening. I felt it change.” She shivered. “There're no communities left. Nobody pops round for sugar and ends up staying for cake whilst they’re here. They rush home to safety. To shelter. The kids don’t play outside either. They sit upstairs on their bloody technology. The fresh air never did me no harm.” She shook herself from her glazed-over stare. “That’s why this watch will do us some good. It’ll bring us together, just you mark my words.”

  “Consider them marked, Nan.” He turned another page in the notebook. “Who else have you managed to convince?”

  “Donna May from number fifteen. I have a feeling she’s been awfully bored since her husband died. She needs something to focus on, especially since all of her children are too busy to spare her a visit. Awful business,” she tutted. “Then there’s the Walsh family next to her. Their mother is lovely, but she spends her days fretting over her children. Don’t we all?” She spared William a beam. “She wants safety. They all do. Protection.”

  William glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece. For as long as he’d been alive, that clock had always been behind. Ten forty, he eventually figured out. Casting his attention back to the notepad, he sat up straight.

  “Nan,” he called, and she tore herself away from the glass pane. “You’ve written here that you saw a couple of men wandering along the street last night. It says that whoever it was walked straight past your window.”

  “Aye. That’s who I was talking about before, the ones in black. Big and stocky, they were, too. They didn’t walk back past until half an hour later, which is strange if you ask me. The next road practically leads to a dead end. There’s nowhere else to go.”

  “Maybe they were visiting someone?” William suggested. “They could have stopped by for a brew.”

  She disagreed wholly. “I spoke to a few of the families along there on the Wednesday straight after that, and nobody knows anything about them. Not a dickie bird.”

  “They could have been drunk and lost their way,” William muttered. He’d done the same once too often. He’d ended up in a field once, intoxicated and bruised to within an inch of his life. What his Nan didn’t know wouldn’t harm her. “Anyway, how do you know they were men?”

  “I told you. They were well built,” she emphasized. “Tall. I didn’t see their faces, but it doesn’t take a genius to work it out. In all of my days, I’ve never seen a woman like that. If they were women, god help them with finding a husband,” she grumbled. “No, they were strange men. They kept peering over their shoulders, and they stopped by the pavement a couple of times.”

  William scratched his hair, noticing a build-up of gel underneath his nails.

  “Doing what?”

  “Bending down. Looking for something. At something,” she said decisively.

  “I saw a lost cat poster on my way here. They usually like to hide under cars,” William chuckled softly. “Didn’t these people see you staring?”

  “Next, you’ll be saying they were only tying their shoelaces,” she sniffed. “I had my lights turned off so they couldn’t.”

  “You can’t blame me, Nan. Look, another entry is for the early hours of last Wednesday morning,” he showed her the notepad. “You claimed that you heard a rattling noise, followed by a glare of headlights. It turned out to be the milkman on his round.” r />
  “Better to be safe than sorry.”

  William read further. “The other afternoon, you reported that a couple of youths wearing hoodies were sitting on the street corner.”

  “They were bringing the neighbourhood down. Frightening the kiddies, the wee gobby shites.” She shook her fist. “They’re not from around here either. I didn’t recognise a single one of them. You’ve heard the news, all those stabbings in the streets. I’ll be damned if I let this place be next. I won’t see it being dragged down whilst I’m alive, let me tell you.” She had sheer determination set into her features.

  William snapped the book shut and balanced it on the arm of the couch. He took in the smell that nobody else could even try to replicate for him; the aftermath of home cooking and the aged furniture.

  “I can see where Dad got his stubborn streak from.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” His Nan’s eyes gleamed fondly, a twinkle he found himself missing when he was away. “Pass me that book, would you? If I see something, I must write it down before I forget it. You’ve been distracting me tonight, a willing distraction, I should add. Anything could be going on out there.”

  William unwillingly clambered to his feet, enjoying the warmth and homeliness for just a few moments longer. “You don’t have to worry. I’m afraid I can’t distract you for much longer.” He watched her face fall, and it ever so slightly tugged on his heart strings. Not that William would admit that out loud to his pals. “It’s late Nan, I'm sorry. If it was up to me, I’d stay here for a while.”

  “The spare room is always free.”

  “I’ve booked a hotel, and I already paid the deposit,” William said regretfully. “It’s a long drive to reach Dad’s, and I promised I’d pay him a visit before my leave is over. I’ve only got one day left, so I have to see him tomorrow. He’s surprisingly talented at holding a grudge, and I don’t want to give him a reason to hold one against me.”

  He settled the notepad in her lap and planted a fond kiss on her cheek. When William tried to stand up straight, his Nan kept a firm grip on his hand. “You’re a good kid, William and don't forget it. Or me, for that matter.”

  He squeezed in return. “Don’t get all sentimental on me, Nan. I’ll be back before you know it. A couple of months, maybe less.”

  “It had better be,” she wagged her finger and allowed William to retrieve his coat from the hook. “When you see me next, this whole neighbourhood will be a whole lot safer. Trust me on that.”

  “I trust you,” he touched the brass handle and unbolted the door. His Nan started to shift in her seat. “Please stay there. I can see myself out,” he said, leaving no room for disagreement. “If you’d like to do anything, wave me off.”

  “Alrighty then,” she agreed fondly. Loving dimples formed on her cheeks.

  William took a final glance around the room before pushing through to the chill. His eyesight adjusted to the newfound gloom, the latch clicking shut behind him. Rubbing his arms to warm up, he tried to ignore the guilt that rose in his chest at leaving his Nan alone. Still, she could fend for herself. That much was obvious.

  He urged himself down the few concrete steps outside of the modest house, footsteps crunching from the frost that had come earlier than they’d expected this year. He half-turned backwards to see the outline of his Nan caused by the lamplight, waving at him from the comfort of her chair. Lifting his hand up, he uncurled his fingers but didn’t wave. Just gave an awkward, indecisive signal.

  That’s what his father called him, anyway. Indecisive. William believed the only time his father had ever been proud of him was during the announcement when the family were told their only son would be leaving behind all he knew for the benefit of his career. Of course, his father still didn’t know the exact position William had taken in the army, and William was happy for the wool to remain pulled over his eyes. Especially if it meant his father thought highly of him. The trouble is, he often felt like an imposter, living off false achievements.

  William watched from the outside as his Nan opened the notepad ready, focused on finding a clean page ready for whatever musings and reports the night may throw at her. It was hard to believe he’d been sitting next to her less than a minute ago. The fresh air always made things feel hazy to him.

  Chuckling under his breath to nobody apart from himself at her funny little ways, William shoved his hands into his pockets in an attempt to keep from freezing. His car was parked a couple of metres away; he didn't want to ruin his Nan's front garden with tyre tracks. Taking the gravel path which led directly to the roadside, William noticed that only a couple of houses had lights left on. No doubt the families of the neighbourhood would retire to bed early, tired from looking after their children all day and focusing on the school runs. Then there were the oldies who had probably fallen asleep at the dinner table. That Richard almost certainly would have done.

  In his pockets, William felt the jagged edge of his keys. They were warmer than the rest of him was. The coat had been hanging above the radiator since the afternoon, he reminded himself.

  The best beaten up car a man like William could ask for stood silently behind a few of the residents' cars parked by the curb. Only some of the detached houses had the luxury of a driveway, and the bigger families owned them. The rest had to deal with the trouble of parking close enough to the path so that the milkman and delivery drivers could pass with ease. Sliding the keys from his pocket, they jangled in the lock on the door handle.

  William still drove his first car, his pride and joy. Most importantly, his first sense of freedom. Sure it rattled, had a bit of rust here and there, and the pedals were muddier than he cared to admit, but nothing would ever convince him to sell. No, he’d drive the beauty until she conked out completely. Even if the fact that the key got jammed in the lock drove him up the bend.

  “Come on!” He banged on the window as gently as possible in his mild sense of frustration. He twisted his wrist clockwise. The lock gave up an admirable fight but was no match for William’s perseverance. Filled with a sense of cheer from one of life's small victories, William knew that his Nan would be struggling to see him from this angle. One of the homeowners had planted a tree on their piece of land that had wound up blocking part of her view, and boy, had she complained about it from the offset. She’d be patiently waiting for him to drive past the open section of the road, with one final wave goodbye, the sentimental woman she was.

  William stopped dead at the sound of a clatter that wasn’t made from his key. Followed by a hiss of sorts. The short-lived victory didn’t last. Instead of cold chills, a shiver of something else ran up his spine. Fear. The cowardly fear he always felt, the fear that William’s father always took pleasure in reminding him he possessed. All of Nan's ghost stories of shadows and figures who dressed in black had spooked him.

  In an attempt to convince himself and his gut feeling that there was nothing to be wary of, William repeated over and over again in hushed tones that it was a residential road where people lived. Of course, there would be movement. They’d be people going in and out constantly on errands and coming home from work. Or returning home after a birthday party or... or something.

  Puckering his lips together, he created a sound that is usually reserved especially for cats or creatures of the household variety. The kind where you suck air through your two front teeth.

  “Here, kitty,” he whispered, remembering the lost poster he’d seen pinned up upon his arrival.

  “Pst pst,” he repeated, and something caught his eye.

  He left his keys swinging in the lock.

  William saw somebody emerging in front of another parked car, a somewhat average Ford. Parked about six away from his own. They dressed from head to toe in black. Exactly as his Nan had described. Tall. Burly. Definitely not a woman. They simultaneously caught sight of one another, and William could see the whites of their eyes underneath the balaclava they wore.

  Underneath the masked stranger's arm were a couple of lengthy sheets of plastic. Rectangular in shape and vivid yellow in hue from what he could gauge. Number Plates, he eventually realised.

  “Shit!” the man exclaimed, and before William had a chance to register the full weight of the situation, the stranger had started to sprint in the opposite direction. He skidded on the frosted gravel beneath him for a split second, but that was the least of his worries. The stranger yelled again, probably alerting half the street of the disturbance.