“Well, gentlemen,” Watters leaned back in his chair as he spoke to his team of detectives. “Gather round and drag up a pew. Mr Mackay has given us an intriguing case to solve. We have a small man running around Dundee smashing watches and clocks, and we don’t know why.” He nodded to Duff. “Four mugs, Shaw!”
Watters looked at each man in turn. Duff, whose breadth of shoulders compensated for his lack of height and whose squat, ugly face concealed a generous heart. He was a slow, methodical man Watters knew he could rely on in any situation. Beside him, Scuddamore was taller, slim, and elegant, with carefully oiled side-whiskers and mobile eyes. Scuddamore relied on his charm, yet he was an excellent detective when not eyeing up some woman or searching for a drink.
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