MURDER IS SKIN DEEP by M.G. Cole (read dune .txt) 📕

his money, before ending up living just south of Lisbon with Oscar Benjamin. If she was working with Oscar Benjamin on anything illegal, why would she jeopardise everything by coming over?

His phone buzzed. It was a message from Drury demanding another update by the end of the day. He noticed a dozen emails from various reporters and a missed call from Molly Meyers. He wondered how she had found his number.

There was a text from Wendy with a few more details about their date. Well, that was some good news at least.

12

The evidence board was looking unusually sparse. Derek Fraser’s picture had been moved to the side, with the victim now in the centre. Social media images of Oscar Benjamin, Terri Cordy, Rebecca Ellis and Mark Kline-Watson had been placed prominently down the side. PC Fanta Liu had used a picture of Hoy’s artwork to represent the mysterious artist.

The team sat quietly as Chib finished the update. Uncharacteristically Superintendent Margery Drury had not interrupted. Garrick waited for her to unleash her fury about the lack of progress, especially as media speculation was rising.

“That’s all we have?” she said quietly. “Plenty of motivations to discredit Mr Fraser, but without a valid ID on the deceased, we can’t conjure up any motives.”

“That’s where we’re up to, ma’am,” said Garrick, swapping places with Chib in front of the board. If anybody was going to take the verbal assault, it was his duty. “At this moment we’re increasing efforts to track down Oscar Benjamin. We’re talking to Border Force and liaising with the police in Lisbon. None of his associates want to talk openly about him, but they’re all happy to bad mouth Fraser. When he lived here, Oscar used to make regular visits to his brother, Noel. But he’s only made one since he arrived back. And that was a fortnight ago.”

“He’s gone to ground.”

“We had an interesting comment,” said Sean Wilkes, speaking up for the first time. Drury’s unblinking gaze caused him to stop talking.

“Speak up, Sean,” prompted Garrick.

Wilkes cleared his throat. “I was told that Oscar had been boasting about a big score coming up and he was looking for people. But everybody agrees he avoids doing anything illegal himself. He’d even sacrificed his brother to stay clean. That’s why we could never arrest him. That’s the issue. People don’t want to work with him no more, but everybody is too afraid to speak out.”

“Still, that sounds promising.” Drury removed her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. “The storm is still rumbling, and until we have something solid, I don’t want anybody speaking to the press.”

“Suits me fine,” said Garrick.

“But in the meantime, Mr Fraser is milking every opportunity. I hear he’s even had an invitation onto the Graham Norton show.”

“Wow, I wonder if he can get me an autograph,” Fanta said, instantly regretting it. She spoke quickly, hoping to defuse Drury’s anger. “Um, it also seems Mark K-W, uh, Kline-Watson has become something of a name too. Well, within the art world, if that counts.”

Drury nodded. “Now he has a lot to gain from all of this too.”

Fanta looked doubtful. “I had a good talk with him. He seemed nice, and it looks like him and Fraser both got on. Mark was telling me he had always fancied himself as a pilot. It turns out Fraser had been taking a few lessons in a private strip at Bridle Farm. They’d even discussed doing lessons together when the owners get back from their second home.”

Drury nodded thoughtfully. “Regular rich boys’ club.”

“Mark definitely sees this as a turning point in his career.”

“Could he be trying to blackmail Mr Fraser?”

“I don’t know how. He told me he’d paid Fraser what he owed him and seemed very happy with his commission.”

Garrick looked up. “I thought we’d told him not to make that transaction?”

“Since he was alive, he couldn’t think of a good reason not to pay him.” Garrick harrumphed, but didn’t have a good comeback. “And he is very excited about the two more pieces of work that are coming through. Like I said, he thinks they’re going to be game changers.”

“I’ve seen them,” mutter Garrick. “They’re game changers alright. Testing how much suckers will pay for crap.”

“This is feeling more like an extortion case with every passing minute,” Drury mused.

Chib tapped Mark’s picture. “If he had direct access to Hoy, then he wouldn’t need Fraser, and that’d increase his profit margin. He already takes thirty per cent. Fraser takes twenty. That’s a lot of money.”

“Speaking of money,” said Garrick, sitting on the corner of a desk as he studied the board. “His ex-wife stands to gain one-point-four million if she gets the house.”

“I thought you said she wasn’t in the will?” said Drury.

“Well, no, but she didn’t know that before the murder.”

“Who gets the house?” asked Chib.

“He wouldn’t say. And we can hardly demand he turns over his own will as evidence into the death of a stranger. Even so, before Rebecca Willis was aware of that, she thought she stood to gain a lot.”

“Let’s put her to the side,” Chib said thoughtfully. “She was out of the country–”

“But not her boyfriend.”

“True, but the only one who has anything to potentially gain by impersonating Fraser, is the gallery owner.”

“Fraser and Hoy have met. So, the only reason to impersonate Fraser was if it was to somebody outside of that circle. Maybe somebody who was representing Hoy and threatening Fraser.”

“For what reason?” said Drury.

“Maybe to demand that Fraser took a smaller commission?”

“It could be somebody who wants to represent Hoy and was threatening Fraser,” Fanta suggested. “Aren’t agents supposed to be ruthless?”

“But killing to get a client seems harsh,” said Harry Lord.

Everybody fell silent as they contemplated this. PC Fanta Liu looked embarrassed.

“That’s not bad, Liu,” Drury finally said. “They could have brought in some hired muscle to put pressure on him, and it all went wrong.”

“That would imply Fraser knew he was about to be blackmailed, and so far, he hasn’t indicated