Surprise on the Links

By Roxana Nastase

Crime, politics, and romance make for strange bedfellows.

It’s a cool morning in Scotland. An inveterate golfer has the surprise to stumble over a body hidden near the tree line. Promptly, he loses his early breakfast, which is not a surprise. The police are called, and the chase begins.

McNamara is on the hunt again, and James is right there with him. What surprises will the finish line bring?

Join in McNamara’s hunt and enjoy the ride!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarlet Leaf
• Release date: Aug 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005034368

Roxana Nastase

Roxana Nastase has been teaching English for over seventeen years, ranging in level from kindergarten to college. She specializes in English Grammar and has had several books issued throughout the years. Her books were used with much success in schools in Eastern Europe for teaching English as a second language.

Book preview

SCARLET LEAF

2021

© 2021 by ROXANA NASTASE

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, with the exception of a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

All characters in this book are fictive, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, places or events is coincidental.

Disclaimer  

The book doesn’t portray the Scottish police system, even though there are similarities.

Toronto, Canada

To Andrei - a straight arrow, and more importantly, a very close friend, someone you can rely on.

The fact that he also reads my books is only the cherry on top.

A heartfelt thank you to you, Andrei.

CHAPTER ONE

His desire to strangle Angus Murray became stronger. But then, he thought that, probably, a club to the head would make it faster and more satisfying. Anyway, regardless of the method, Angus would finally shut up, blessing him with silence.

Lachlan MacDonald pushed his hat back and wiped his sweaty forehead with a swift gesture. It might have been early in the day, but the man had already had enough. MacDonald looked at his companion sideways and shook his head with dismay.

It was high time that someone had stopped the running mouth of that fellow. Angus Murray had always had the reputation of a dour man, but then, he had been getting grumpier with age.

Like a bear with a thorn in his paw, Murray had been grumbling since the two of them started their usual game of golf at six-thirty that morning. Far from being shy, Murray complained about everything under the sun. Mostly, he griped because MacDonald moved like an old woman with arthritis, overthinking everything too much and making him waste precious time. As always, Angus did not care that his attitude drove Lachlan mad in the process.

Lachlan wiped his forehead once more, pursing his lips and scrunching his nose with displeasure. His brows had knitted above his thick, beck-like nose long before the two men had reached the first hole.

Now, getting closer to the twelfth hole, MacDonald was already mentally exhausted. The man yearned for a place in the shadow to down a cold beer and to lean back and kick off his shoes in a manner of speaking. He could already hear people clamouring in the distance. Soon, the green would be overwhelmed with players, and that would anger Angus more.

Angus and Lachlan had been friends since the beginning of time, some sixty years before, so Lachlan knew the cantankerous elderly man better than the back of his palm. Why, just the other day, a new brownish spot had appeared on his hand, and Lachlan did not remember to have seen it before.

After over forty years of shaking his head and trying not to pay too close attention to his companion, MacDonald had finally reached his breaking point. The pressure inside his skill threatened to erupt, and the impulse to hurl insults to Murray at his turn became so intense that it was painful.

Angus sent his ball near the bushes with a long shot, and another array of curses sputtered off the lips of the grumpy old man. With heavy steps, he followed the ball to the shrubbery.  

There, Angus leaned forward for a few seconds and then stumbled back a couple of steps. The cap flew off his head because of the sudden recoil, and then, he threw the club to the ground. He started spewing the nastiest curse words he had ever uttered.

Wide-eyed, Lachlan watched Angus from afar, not understanding what had gotten into the man now. It was not the first time that Angus had to play his ball from the shrubs.

It was not an easy shot, but Lachlan knew that Angus could do it. The old man was an accomplished golf player. It would have been hard not to be after so many years of practicing on the green.

Lachlan took a step in the direction of his friend with the thought to calm him down. However, his preservation spirit stopped him in his tracks almost immediately. Angus behaved like a raging lunatic. It was far from wise to get into his space right then.

A few moments later, to his surprise, Angus hurled the contents of his early breakfast into the scarce grass that outlined the patch of bushes and sands. The retching noise prompted Lachlan to press the back of his hand to his lips, afraid that he would follow his friend’s example.

When there was nothing else left to throw up, Angus wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and then he put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief. Only afterwards, the man shoved his fingers through his hair with a nervous gesture and turned toward Lachlan.  

Have you got that damn mobile phone of yours with you, Lachlan? he inquired, watching his friend sideways.

Aye, the man replied after a brief hesitation. Lachlan remembered well that Angus showed a raging mistrust of mobiles, and that morning, he did not feel like listening to another lecture about them from his friend. It might have amused him in the beginning, but that show had grown old after a while.

Then show me that you know how to use it and call the police. There’s a dead guy in there, the man tilted his head towards the shrubs.

For a few seconds, Lachlan stared at the man with confusion. He noticed that Angus had lost any colour in her face, and his fingers shook on his hips.

Lachlan had heard his words quite well, but that did not mean that he had also grasped their meaning. With some apprehension, he took two steps in his friend’s direction again, turning his right ear towards Angus. Lately, Lachlan had experienced some loss of hearing in his left ear and now needed to make sure that he did not imagine things.

What do you mean? Lachlan asked Angus with dread, wiping off his wet forehead with the back of his hand.

What I’ve just said, mate, the man retorted in a heated tone of voice. His brows curved up onto his forehead, and he tilted his head towards the shrub once more. It’s a stiff in there. Call the damn police, Angus raised his voice, rebuking his friend, and the steel in his eyes glinted with anger and fear.

Angus had recognised the body in the bushes, even though it missed half of the face. Someone had taken a club to the dead guy’s face and had not stopped until they were sure that they had done a bloody good job.

Angus swallowed hard as his throat suddenly dried up. He had no doubt about the questions the police would ask him.

There had not been any lost love between the dead man and Angus Murray, and anyone would vouch for that. If the man pondered the relationship between the dead man and himself better, quite the opposite, in fact.

CHAPTER TWO

James filled his mug to the rim with black coffee and then leaned his hip on the edge of the desk. His eyes stared out of the window, but his thoughts were on the schedule open on the desk. Nothing important seemed to be on the agenda, and it was only eight-thirty in the morning.

Absent-mindedly, the Detective Sergeant brought the mug to his lips. He sipped some of the hot liquid, even though he was not in the mood to have another cup of coffee that morning. Still, things had been a little slower than usual that summer and boredom did not invite him to do anything else.

Mentally, James calculated that McNamara was supposed to return to work the following day. Immediately, his eyes swept over everything in the office, and the man sighed with dismay.

The Detective Sergeant remembered that the Chief Inspector liked things in a certain way, and James did not have a death wish. He did not feel like being scolded the very day when the Chief Inspector returned from his honeymoon.

James shook his head, and a grin curved his lips. The Chief Inspector and honeymoon did not belong in the same sentence. He, for one, had never believed that McNamara would ever end up married and was sure that none of his colleagues have thought that either.

The Chief Inspector had never shown any particular inclination towards the women who sporadically visited his bed. The man mastered the talent of dissociating any feelings from the physical act of love.

Consequently, people still did not understand how come Bryony had managed to change his mind. Everyone questioned the methods that the woman had employed to achieve that goal. With a shake of his head, the Detective Sergeant remembered that even rumours mentioning witchcraft had reached his ears. 

However, his boss had proved to all of them that one should avoid forming definite opinions about people’s behaviours. Sometimes, a person would react out of character and would surprise others when they expected less.

Still, James knew that he could not let his guard down right then. He was smart enough to understand that getting married had mellowed McNamara somehow, but that did not mean that the chief inspector would overlook certain transgressions.

Finding his office changed slightly would drive McNamara mad, and undoubtedly, James would suffer the consequences. The Detective Sergeant was not a betting man, but he would bet on occasion when the result seemed unquestionable. That was the case right then.

Fortunately, the man had thought of taking photos of the office when he started to work there after the Chief Detective Inspector left on his first vacation in years. The Detective Sergeant had imagined that things might get moved around during those two weeks of McNamara’s leave, and he had not trusted his own memory.

Glancing again around the room, the man decided that, that evening, he had to look over those photos and put everything back in the original place.

A knock on the office door pulled James out of his musings, and the man turned, saying, Come in.

Jo, one of the Detective Inspectors, opened the door but did not come in. We have got a murder, James, she announced with excitement in her voice, and the man’s brows hiked up onto his forehead.

The DS understood that people wanted to keep active and had had enough of pushing papers around all day long. But then, James did not understand to show excitement when a crime had taken place.

I see, he said, straightening his shoulders, ready to impart his opinion about the woman’s attitude. But then, he thought better, and with a shake of his head, asked, Where?

At the links, the young Detective Inspector replied, with a twinkle in her eyes. It was evident for the DS that the woman relished the thought of going out in the field.

All right, James sighed with resignation. I will be downstairs in a moment, he waved his hand. Have you called the coroner? the man inquired while putting the mug back onto the desk and taking his coat off the back of his chair.

Of course, I did, the woman replied tersely, affronted that the DS believed that she did not know what she had to do.

After all, that was not her first show in the business. Jo had been working with the Major Investigation Teams for a few years already. She prided herself on being one of the best detective inspectors in the field. McNamara appreciated her skills and work, and sometimes, even above all the other detectives, which often led to jealousy and recriminations from her colleagues. 

The DS turned to Jo just in time to notice her displeasure over his words. He waved his hand, trying to find words to explain why he had asked that question, but then the man pursed his lips with a shrug. It did not really matter, after all. They had a job to do, and he could not let a few words take his focus away.

Are you coming? he wondered, raising one brow and looking at the DI inquiringly.

The young woman huffed but declined to express her thoughts. She contented to nod briefly in his direction, staring him down with cold eyes. Then, she went out of the office through the door the DS held open for her. 

James smiled sheepishly and shook his head. In his opinion, women liked to make a mountain out of an anthill sometimes. A man had to go with the flow. There was no way around that.

He followed Jo out in the commune room of the squad and looked around, trying to locate Claire. He was going out with the young policewoman outside work so that no one knew about their relationship.

His eyes slightly narrowed when he observed her absence from the room, and the man wondered where Claire was. They had come to the precinct together that morning, and he had expected to see her at her desk.

His brows came together, and James asked one of the inspectors, Hey, Mike, do you know where Claire has gone?

Mike was in the process of putting his coat on but turned towards the DS with surprise.

How should I know? the detective asked with an indifferent shrug. It is not like I would keep tabs on her. 

A faint blush covered the face and neck of the sergeant when he grasped the meaning of the detective’s words.

James had been trying hard not to show his feelings for Claire in front of the detectives, but, to his chagrin, sometimes he forgot and made a spectacle of himself.

I was only wondering if it would be better to take her with us, the man tried to explain his question and save face, but Mike only smirked.

Aye, that must be it, the detective stared at the detective sergeant meaningfully.

At the sight of the suggestive grin, tugging at the lips of the detective, James tightened his teeth. The DS would have liked to wipe the fleeting cheeky smile off the mouth of the DI. However, he knew that such an act would not go too well with his superiors, especially McNamara.

The DS did not harbour any illusions about stopping the rumours reach the CDI. It was bound that his actions would get to his ears, and James would never hear the end of it then.

You and Jo will drive together, the DS stated in a dry tone of voice. I will look for Claire and follow you, James continued.

His steely eyes drilled holes in the DI’s face, daring Mike to elaborate on what he thought about the relationship between Claire and him.

Mike was smart enough not to rise to the bait and merely nodded. Still, then he shook his head.

The DI did not understand how the DS could be so blind about the people around him. James did believe that people were unaware of the relation between him and Claire, the petite blond who just became a detective a few weeks ago. McNamara heartily recommended her for the DI position after the woman had proved her value in their last major case when they thwarted a group of terrorists.

I suppose that Jo has already arranged for a few constables to follow us, James added, pretending not to notice the DI’s head shake.

It was not like the DS could express what went through his head. James might have been left in charge while the DCI was away, but that did not mean Mike would react meekly before him. James wondered if the DI even knew the meaning of the word.

That she did, Mike said in a quiet tone of voice and nodded slowly, staring at James with unreadable eyes.

In a way, the man felt sorry for the DS. The DI could understand how the sergeant felt. After all, Mike also walked on a tight rope with Jo. He also hoped that no one would guess their involvement one with each other. However, that did not mean that the DI would tease James less if he had the chance. 

The DS pursed his lips and stared Mike down with his clear blue eyes for a few more moments, and then he turned on his heel and left the squad room.

Mike shook his head behind the sergeant, and the saucy grin flourished on his lips once more.

CHAPTER THREE

The DS got off his car and braced one arm over the car door, looking in the distance. The view before his eyes was something to behold. James shook his head slowly, and a lazy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Once more, Jo had outdone herself. The DI had summoned the entire forensic team and at least six constables to the scene.

On one side of the area closed with the yellow police ribbon, several men, dressed for the links, discussed quietly among themselves. Their body language disclosed not only curiosity but also discontent. They did not like the fact that their fun on the green was interrupted so gruesomely.

James noticed two constables fleeting from one player to another, taking notes, and a satisfied smile flourished on his lips. It seemed that Jo had not wasted any time and had already put the constables at work.

The DS knew that, in half an hour, all the players would be sent away from the club. The police needed to do their job, and their presence represented a nuisance. If James had to ask those people more questions, they would find them, using the notes the constables had taken.

James did not really care about the players’ dismay. He wanted to have the area cleared as soon as possible so that the forensic team could collect the evidence.

Beyond the yellow band, people swarmed all over the place, looking for evidence. From afar, they seemed like headless ants, covering the soil, but the DS noticed that there was a method in their search.

He did not expect anything less from them. They knew their job and did it well, even though McNamara was not there to chew their hides.

A half-smile crept on his lips, despite his apprehensions concerning the case. Well, maybe with the help of the other DIs, the murder might still be solved.

James needed to believe that because he could not face McNamara without something concrete. For the last forty-five minutes, James had worried that he was way over his head with that homicide.

He had always assisted McNamara, but he had never been in the situation of leading the procedures. As luck would have it, Jo proved good strategic skills, and that, maybe, would save his skin as well.

It’s looking good, Claire’s soft voice came from behind him.

James turned towards her with surprise. He had not realized that the woman had already got out of the car, as well. Now, she was almost next to