Hunter by name – Hunter by nature: DI Hunter Wilson will not rest until Edinburgh is safe.
Detective Inspector Hunter Wilson knows there is a new supply of cocaine flooding his city, and he needs to find the source, but his attention is transferred to murder when a corpse is discovered in the grounds of a golf course.
Shortly after the post-mortem, Hunter witnesses a second murder, but that is not the end of the slaughter. With a young woman’s life also hanging in the balance, the last thing Hunter needs is a new man on his team: Detective Constable Tim Myerscough, the son of his nemesis, the former Chief Constable Sir Peter Myerscough.
Hunter’s perseverance and patience are put to the test time after time in this first novel in the DI Wilson Crime series.
When they got to the hospital, Jamie was out of A&E and up in the ward. His ankle was still too swollen for him to have the operation on his broken bones. The medics had told Mel the previous night that it was a complex, multiple fracture. So, there was the patient, sitting, handcuffed to the bed and eating the Jaffa Cakes Frankie had brought for him. Jamie grinned when he saw Mel.
“Hallo, sweetie. Just can’t keep away, can you? Me and you a real item. BFF and all that, huh?”
“Only in your dreams, Jamie.” Mel dragged a chair across to sit out of Jamie’s reach.
Hunter took the lead. “Mr James Thomson?”
“Jamie. I’m Jamie Ian Thomson.”
“Jamie Thomson, I understand you discovered a dead body on the grounds of Merchant’s Golf Club yesterday evening. What can you tell me about the body?”
Jamie looked confused.
“Eh, dead? Aye dead. The body was definitely dead. An’ right gross.” He smiled triumphantly, pleased with his answer.
Hunter grabbed a Jaffa Cake, took out his notebook and asked Jamie some less challenging questions. After an hour at the hospital Mel and Hunter had eaten four Jaffa Cakes but found out little about the corpse they did not already know. Jamie was neither observant nor informative but was desperate to justify the housebreaking as a social necessity to provide for his family.
“See, I’d borrowed a bit from Robbin’ Hope’s gang. The interest they take is not just money if it’s not paid on time, you know.” He drew a line with his finger across his neck.
“Very interesting, Jamie. Who’s Robin Hope?” Hunter asked.
“Not Robin Hope, Robbin’ Hope. Billy Hope and his cronies, they give you a wee lend if you need it, but it’s a right high price. Got it?” Jamie became stressed and started panting.
“Really? Is that Billy Hope that was the councillor?”
“Hmm,” Hunter mused. “I don’t know anything about that.” He paused, then continued. “Isn’t he related to Ian Thomson, your dad?”
“Aye, his brother-in-law. But no’ exactly close. I suppose Billy’s my uncle. Bastard!”
“Calm down, Jamie! What about the body?” Mel made a note of the family tree.
When Jamie calmed down and began breathing normally, he was able to tell the officers where the body lay. He said it was partly covered by a shallow grave, clothed, and a woman. Nothing they didn’t already know or suspect.
“You sure it was a woman, Jamie?” Mel asked.
“Aye, I can always tell a woman, pet. But no’ much!” He grinned.
“Ho ho,” Mel scoffed. “The old ones are the best ones?”
Jamie looked away. He turned to Hunter and told him at length what a shock it was tripping over
the body. “Sir Peter didn’t shout nor nothing. Not even a ‘fuck’ of shock. He was right brave. There were bugs an’ all sorts.”
About the author
Val Penny has an Llb degree from Edinburgh University and her MSc from Napier University. She has had many jobs including hairdresser, waitress, banker, azalea farmer and lecturer but has not yet achieved either of her childhood dreams of being a ballerina or owning a candy store.
Until those dreams come true, she has turned her hand to writing poetry, short stories, nonfiction, and novels.
Val is an American author living in SW Scotland. She has two adult daughters of whom she is justly proud and lives with her husband and their cat.
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