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Devine Intervention


“Yes well, this one came into contact with a rather large knife!”
I walked over to the window and stared down at the flashing lights on the po lice vans. He
had put up no resistance as I raised him off the sofa. The bully I feared when I was a kid had
no great body strength due to a life of self-abuse. I had exacted my revenge and left him
beaten but alive. He would never have been able to identify me. Could it have been another
druggie that entered and slashed his throat? I asked myself.
“Time of death? I reckon about three AM.” Cochrane said.
“Okay, thanks James.”
I walked over to where DS White was crouched beside the body. “What do you reckon
Derek?”
He stood up and sighed. “Could be a drug dealer sir, but I've never seen this before,” he said
pointing at the rope binding the limbs.
“There's some nasty buggers goin' around. We've seen some bad things where these dealers
are after their money. Who found the body?”
“A neighbour wondered why the front door was open.”
“Okay Derek, start shaking up the area and round up the local dealers. Get Susan down from
Dundee to give you a hand.
I drove past where the primary school I went to used to be – now a supermarket car park
ironically next to Arbroath Police Station. The streets were becoming slick with a drizzle
which had drifted in off the North Sea. I decided to head back to Dundee as Metallica's Enter
Sandman filled the car. I had a problem.
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