The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 by David Carter (best finance books of all time .txt) 📕

‘Useless dog turd, if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘Mizz Floem, I am surprised at you.’

‘Walter,’ she said, and she had never called him that before, ‘Is there nothing you can tell me?’

‘Not today, Mizz Floem.’

‘Pity, you disappoint me.’

‘Keep in touch, Mizz Floem.’

‘Oh, I will... ciao,’ and then she was gone.

‘Ciao,’ Walter said disdainfully. ‘Who the hell ends their conversations with ciao?’

‘You like that woman, don’t you?’ said Karen, mischievously.

‘Don’t know the woman,’ said Walter, just about keeping a straight face.

‘No, but you’d like to, eh?’

Walter harrumphed.

The phone rang again.

Karen snatched it up. Turned serious.

Walter watched her face. She wasn’t smirking any longer.

‘Yes, he’s here, I’ll put you through.’

‘Who is it?’

‘Langley Wells.’

Twenty-Six

Walter shared a look with Karen and rippled his eyebrows and grabbed the phone. What could Langley Wells possibly want that had made him swallow his pride and ring the police? Walter sniffed and grunted, ‘Hello.’

‘Inspector Darriteau?’

‘That’s me.’

‘It’s Langley Wells.’

‘Mister Wells, what can I do for you?’

‘I have been thinking about our little chat.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘I’d like another meet, just you and me.’

‘Why don’t you come into the station and we can talk here?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’

‘So what do you suggest?’

‘I want you to come here, alone, leave that smart arsed girl behind, she got my boys into all kinds of a tither.’

Walter and Karen shared another look.

She couldn’t hear the conversation, but guessed they were talking about her.

‘What about Pierre’s restaurant in town?’

‘No! Too public. I want you to come here.’

‘I’m not happy with that.’

‘Suit yourself! What’s the matter? Are you afraid? Look, I’ll personally guarantee your safety. You know me, Darriteau, if nothing else I am a man of my word.’

For a lowlife, Walter knew that Wells did have some vague notions of standards, though they were not values that Walter could ever share.

‘When did you have in mind?’

‘Come at three o’clock, the boys will all be out; they’ll be just you, me and Rose.’

‘All right, I can do that.’

‘Come alone, Darriteau. If there’s more than one of you, we won’t open the door.

‘I get the picture.’

‘Good!’ said Wells, and he cut the line dead.

‘What did he want?’ asked Karen.

‘I don’t know; must have taken a lot for him to call; wants to see me at three, just me.’

Karen pulled a face and tried not to show her disappointment.

‘Do you want me to drive you?’

‘No, but you can organise an unmarked car.’

‘OK, Guv,’ and there was a short pause and then she said, ‘Go wired up, and I’d take a gun if I were you.’

Walter sniffed a laugh and said, ‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’

HE LEFT THE STATION at a quarter to three. Karen had fixed him up with a dark green Ford saloon that had seen better days. It stank of cigarette smoke and stale coffee, but it was the only unmarked vehicle available.

Walter started the car and headed out onto the inner ring road. It was stiflingly hot inside. He made to buzz down the windows. Couldn’t find the buttons, no surprise there, the car didn’t run to electric windows. He grabbed the handle and began turning, and hot air rushed in.

Then he remembered the weather forecast, widely predicted to be one of the hottest days of the year. He blew out forcefully, and pulled the car to a standstill at the lights at the fountains roundabout. Wished he hadn’t bothered with the jacket, and that was a first for the year.

The house looked the same, the neighbourhood quiet, grassy unkempt lawns turning brown, an abandoned kid’s trike on the pavement; the kids not yet home from school. The four by fours were missing. Walter guessed the sons were busy at their property and second hand car businesses, and whatever other mischief they were up to. The drapes were open, but no one could see into the house through the doubled up lace curtains. Most of the locals knew better than to try. He imagined he saw the curtains shivering, though he might have been wrong.

Pulled on the handbrake, wound up the windows, and hauled himself out of the car. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. Blew out heavily and wished he’d double deodorised that morning, but it was too late now. Eased open the gate, limped up the path and rang the bell.

A moment later, Rose came to the door and opened up.

‘Right on time,’ she said. ‘Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.’

Unless he was mistaken she half smiled at him, and that was a first.

‘Well, don’t just stand there; come in before the rats get in.’

Same copra mat, same wiping of the feet, same performance, shown through to the same room at the back, the sitting room cum office. Langley wasn’t there. No one was.

‘Wanna cup of tea?’ she asked.

‘No thanks, though a glass of water would be nice.’

‘Might run to that, you look hot, make yourself at home,’ and with that she turned and left him alone, in Langley’s private office.

He glanced down at the desk. Same tub of pens, same calculator, no papers visible; one wood effect filing cabinet to one side. He hadn’t noticed that before, maybe it hadn’t been there last time, locked by the look of it. No obvious key. Walter wondered what secrets lay within, details of all of Langley’s transactions maybe, going back years and years, perhaps even including the Swaythling business.

Walter pondered on the half warm welcome, and why he had been left alone. It couldn’t be an accident; the Wells family weren’t stupid, they were up to something. Maybe he was being monitored, his every move filmed. Were they hoping he might attempt to enter the filing cabinet, or the desk drawers? Maybe they hoped it might produce some juicy blackmail material. Who knows what went through the minds of the Wells gang?

There were several photographs on the walls, mainly of the family, some with young children, looked like recent pics, probably the boys’ kids, but there was another larger black and white photograph, plainly