doubtfully. ‘It was up a good bit, in the moorie, nearer your hoose.’
Even this was expanded upon during the course of the day, when the various other parts of the discarded bicycle were turned up by the searchers. Around five o’clock that night, Jake was summoned by Detective Sergeant Bruce to come and inspect the finds.
‘We want to know if you can identify anything,’ the officer told him.
Shaken to the marrow when he looked down on the pieces of rusty metal, buckled but still recognisable, Jake said quietly. ‘It’s a bike my son and his chum cobbled thegether from bits they found on dumps.’
Excitement stirred through the uniformed men. The case was getting somewhere at last.
‘Your son being … how old?’
‘Ten, but he’s been in the hospital for a while. He’s naething to dae wi’ the murder.’
‘But Mr Fowlie, you say these items belong to him?’
‘Aye, that’s what I said.’
‘They’re covered with blood. How do you explain that?’
Jake felt trapped, although he was sure that he had no reason to be. He couldn’t understand, any more than the sergeant, how there could have been so much blood. Granted, Willie had fallen on rough ground, he’d had a lot of scratches and scrapes, but nothing to cause bleeding like this. ‘I couldna tell you that.’
‘I’m afraid we’ll have to speak to the boy himself, then. Is he fit to be interviewed?’
‘To be honest,’ Jake stated firmly, ‘he’s nae that great. Mrs McIntyre of Wester Burnton phones the hospital every day to find oot how he is, and lets us ken what they say. He’s had a high fever for a puckle days noo, an’ there’s nae change the day.’
‘He’ll be able to speak to us, though.’
‘Can I come wi’ you?’ Jake pleaded, sorely afraid for his son although he was convinced that Willie had absolutely nothing to do with the murder.
The DS smiled. ‘I don’t see why not.’
They both turned as Jeemsie Cooper came puffing up holding a mangled old pail as if it were the crown jewels. ‘Look at this, sir. They found it among the nettles ower there.’ He gestured with his free hand. ‘It’s covered wi’ bleed, an’ all.’
‘Give it here,’ snapped the sergeant, inspecting the item then pronouncing, ‘It’s had bleed … blood in it, that’s for sure. This is no ordinary murder.’
‘You think it was a … vampire?’ exclaimed Jeemsie, eyes agog with tense excitement. ‘Killin’ fowk an’ drinking their …’
‘No, you bloody fool.’ DS Bruce turned back to Jake again. ‘It’s a mystery, though, so I suppose we’ll need to investigate it.’ Signalling to two of his men, he ordered them to go round all the cottages, crofts and farms within a five-mile radius to ask if anyone would recognise the pail.
‘Nobody’s going to lay claim to that,’ one of the men protested. ‘It’s only fit to be thrown out.’
‘I suppose you wouldn’t know if this was something else your son picked up in a dump?’ Bruce asked Jake.
‘I ken naething aboot it, but he could easy have picked it up, I suppose.’
‘Then the sooner we see him the better. Can you come with us right now?’
The Matron almost had apoplexy when the police officer insisted on seeing her prize patient, but the man brushed aside all her protestations and walked straight past her. Beaten, she following them into the ward, hurrying past them to alert Willie that he had visitors – one of them most unwelcome.
The boy blanched and cowered down under the blankets, but Bruce barked, ‘Sit up, boy. I think you could shed some light on the murder case.’
The Matron helped the child into a sitting position, but warned, ‘I shall stop you if I see he is being upset by your questioning.’
The interrogation had not gone beyond the initial stage of name, age, why Willie had gone round the dumps et cetera when the ward door swung open noisily to admit the two men who had been looking for someone to identify the battered bucket.
Even this was expanded upon during the course of the day, when the various other parts of the discarded bicycle were turned up by the searchers. Around five o’clock that night, Jake was summoned by Detective Sergeant Bruce to come and inspect the finds.
‘We want to know if you can identify anything,’ the officer told him.
Shaken to the marrow when he looked down on the pieces of rusty metal, buckled but still recognisable, Jake said quietly. ‘It’s a bike my son and his chum cobbled thegether from bits they found on dumps.’
Excitement stirred through the uniformed men. The case was getting somewhere at last.
‘Your son being … how old?’
‘Ten, but he’s been in the hospital for a while. He’s naething to dae wi’ the murder.’
‘But Mr Fowlie, you say these items belong to him?’
‘Aye, that’s what I said.’
‘They’re covered with blood. How do you explain that?’
Jake felt trapped, although he was sure that he had no reason to be. He couldn’t understand, any more than the sergeant, how there could have been so much blood. Granted, Willie had fallen on rough ground, he’d had a lot of scratches and scrapes, but nothing to cause bleeding like this. ‘I couldna tell you that.’
‘I’m afraid we’ll have to speak to the boy himself, then. Is he fit to be interviewed?’
‘To be honest,’ Jake stated firmly, ‘he’s nae that great. Mrs McIntyre of Wester Burnton phones the hospital every day to find oot how he is, and lets us ken what they say. He’s had a high fever for a puckle days noo, an’ there’s nae change the day.’
‘He’ll be able to speak to us, though.’
‘Can I come wi’ you?’ Jake pleaded, sorely afraid for his son although he was convinced that Willie had absolutely nothing to do with the murder.
The DS smiled. ‘I don’t see why not.’
They both turned as Jeemsie Cooper came puffing up holding a mangled old pail as if it were the crown jewels. ‘Look at this, sir. They found it among the nettles ower there.’ He gestured with his free hand. ‘It’s covered wi’ bleed, an’ all.’
‘Give it here,’ snapped the sergeant, inspecting the item then pronouncing, ‘It’s had bleed … blood in it, that’s for sure. This is no ordinary murder.’
‘You think it was a … vampire?’ exclaimed Jeemsie, eyes agog with tense excitement. ‘Killin’ fowk an’ drinking their …’
‘No, you bloody fool.’ DS Bruce turned back to Jake again. ‘It’s a mystery, though, so I suppose we’ll need to investigate it.’ Signalling to two of his men, he ordered them to go round all the cottages, crofts and farms within a five-mile radius to ask if anyone would recognise the pail.
‘Nobody’s going to lay claim to that,’ one of the men protested. ‘It’s only fit to be thrown out.’
‘I suppose you wouldn’t know if this was something else your son picked up in a dump?’ Bruce asked Jake.
‘I ken naething aboot it, but he could easy have picked it up, I suppose.’
‘Then the sooner we see him the better. Can you come with us right now?’
The Matron almost had apoplexy when the police officer insisted on seeing her prize patient, but the man brushed aside all her protestations and walked straight past her. Beaten, she following them into the ward, hurrying past them to alert Willie that he had visitors – one of them most unwelcome.
The boy blanched and cowered down under the blankets, but Bruce barked, ‘Sit up, boy. I think you could shed some light on the murder case.’
The Matron helped the child into a sitting position, but warned, ‘I shall stop you if I see he is being upset by your questioning.’
The interrogation had not gone beyond the initial stage of name, age, why Willie had gone round the dumps et cetera when the ward door swung open noisily to admit the two men who had been looking for someone to identify the battered bucket.
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