Lochee boasted a small police station in South Road, with a dozen uniformed officers who did not appreciate the influx of plain-clothed detectives from the parent office in Dundee. The man in charge, Inspector McLeod, wore a bandage on his right hand and glowered at Watters but did not interfere as he interviewed Kelly. Constable MacHardy hugged a mug of tea, listening to everything Watters said as Duff stood behind the prisoner.
“Well, Mr Kelly,” Watters sat opposite the truculent prisoner. “We have arrested you for running a shebeen, an illegal drinking den. We have also charged you with selling alcoholic drink on a Sunday, contrary to the 1853 Forbes Mackenzie Act, and resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer.”
Kelly said nothing, with his lip curled in a sneer.
“We found one
