A Death In Glasgow – Eva Macrae

Around his neck hung one of the small trendy cameras that May sometimes caught Tam looking at on the internet. Two grand! she’d exclaimed. If you want a wee metal box to carry around, I’ll buy you a can of sardines and you’ll have something to eat for your dinner as well. ‘You okay?’ May couldn’t see any visible injuries, but she wasn’t sure what’d happened before she’d arrived.

The camera he clutched to his chest also looked undamaged. ‘Are you hurt? D’you need to go to hospital and get checked out?’ He shook his head. May took a step closer. ‘Look, if you want, I can take him in for assault and threatening behaviour.’ She indicated over her shoulder at Kit who was still glowering at the man. ‘But I have to warn you, you might be at the station for a while waiting to give your statement. So unless you want to press charges, I’m happy for you to go on and enjoy the rest of your evening.’

The man didn’t stop to consider the matter. He pushed his way through the small crowd that had congealed around them and scuttled off down the busy street. The onlookers dispersed at a few words from May. She turned back to Kit who scowled as if he were the injured party here.

‘It’s no’ against the law to be taking photos in a public place,’ May said, pre-empting any further protests. She wasn’t sure how drunk he was, but he should have been capable of understanding that much. ‘And I’m not arresting you for laying hands on the guy, but in the future, if anyone tries to take your picture and you’re not happy for that to happen, just walk away.

Cos then they’ll no’ be able to take your picture. You get what I’m saying to you?’ He didn’t answer and gave her another rebellious look, but she could tell from his slowed breathing, and the relaxation in his shoulders, that the message was getting through. ‘No more needless confrontations,’ she went on. ‘It’s a public place. I can’t arrest folk for being street photographers or whatever daft explanation they have for what they’re doing. You need to be the bigger guy here, Kit.

Eva Macrae is the author of A Death in Glasgow, a thrilling police procedural set in Glasgow which is publishing in January 2026. Having been born in Glasgow, Eva is a former newspaper photographer turned crime author. She’s covered stories including the Fall of the Berlin Wall and the first Gulf War in addition to many high profile murder cases, which have had an influence on her popular Detective Shona Oliver police procedural series which Eva writes under her real name, Lynne McEwan.

She is a graduate of the University of East Anglia’s Creative Writing programme and splits her time between Lincolnshire and Scotland. 1kitap1.com/en Eva Macrae A DEATH IN GLASGOW 1kitap1.com/en For my grandmother, Janet Davidson Macrae 1kitap1.com/en Prologue Holly knows she’s being followed. The baseball cap pulled down, hood up, face shadowed, but she knows.

She keeps craning back over her shoulder, pretending to be on the phone. Maybe that’ll make them back off. But there’s no one she can call. Nobody will believe her; else they’ll say it’s her own fault. Along Union Street, the pubs are emptying into the cold neon night. Shapes come barrelling into her, forcing her off the icy pavement into the path of buses and Deliveroo bikes. Haw, hen, watch where you’re going. The temperature’s plummeted.

With her big coat on and her legs pumping like pistons, her hair’s sticking to the back of her neck while the beads of sweat freeze on her face. That last vodka, or three, is climbing up her throat. She can’t stop to chuck up. She’ll be caught and then what? I only want to talk. I only want to give you a wee cuddle.

I only want to … When she gets to Central station, there’ll be plenty folk around. A public place. Safe. Suddenly, the station entrance looms on her right like an escape hatch and Holly bolts towards it, elbowing through the drinkers, tripping on some homeless guy huddled on the floor. The steps up are mountainous but she’s taking them two at a time in her platform boots. At the top, she risks a wee keek back. Nobody. Her guts unclench a fraction. Was she wrong? Was it just someone who’d been behind her for ages, going the same way?

Dark clothes and a hoodie. Could’ve been anyone.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 4b9ea164bd5273e9
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,794,089 bytes (1.711 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 234
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 379.78 minutes
• Total Words: 75,956
• Total Characters: 426,166
• Average Words per Page: 324.6
• Average Characters per Page: 1821.22

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