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

doors as the police took the customers’ details.

‘Where are the women?’ repeated Walter.

‘Upstairs, having their evening meal,’ said Wazir.

Walter nodded Karen and Jenny away to find and deal with the womenfolk.

‘They’re not involved,’ explained Ahmed.

‘We’ll decide who’s involved and who isn’t,’ said Hector angrily, after making his way in through the back.

‘I need the key to the display cabinet,’ said Walter, nodding across toward the sword.

‘It’s lost,’ said Mohammed.

‘In that case we’ll just have to break it open.’

Wazir stood up and took out his keys. Removed the smallest one from a hefty clump and handed it across the table.

Walter nodded his thanks and gave it to Hector.

Within half an hour the State had closed, the remaining staff were being interviewed, while the Khan family were making themselves comfortable in six separate interview rooms on the fifth floor of the main Chester police station.

THERE WAS QUITE A CROWD gathered round the monster as the live feed from the interview room was switched on by Jenny. There was a single table in the room and the constantly grinning Maaz sat on one side, with the home team opposite, the Guv, still looking grumpy, after Maaz’s earlier stupid comments, and Karen, who had been at her razor sharp best all day.

Karen began proceedings.

‘This interview is being recorded on live sound and video.’

‘It sure is,’ said one of the uniforms in the Incident Room, all crowding round the live colour footage beaming in from upstairs. A uniform, who had brought back one of the Khans from the State, was keen to see it through, keen to have something exciting to tell his wife over the liver and onions he knew would be on the table when he eventually arrived home. Everyone settled in before the screen for a long session.

‘Are you all right, Maaz?’ asked Walter.

‘Never been better, fat man, black man. How did they ever let you become an Inspector?’

Walter ignored the comment and said, ‘Tell us about Sahira?’

‘What do you want to know, nigger?’

‘Cut that out!’

Again, Karen thought Walter was about to strike Maaz. She admired his self-restraint. He was already talking again.

‘She’s your sister, right?’

Maaz blew out air.

‘Phew! Detection gone crazy. Go to the top of the class.’

‘And you took her to the airport?’ asked Karen.

‘Said so, didn’t I?’

‘Why was that?’ asked Walter.

‘Why do you think?’

‘We don’t know, Maaz, why don’t you tell us all about it?’

Maaz blew out again and looked from side to side. He seemed to be thinking of what to say, or whether to say anything at all, and for a moment it looked like he might adopt the guilty looking and unhelpful “no comment” stance, but for whatever reason, he began talking, and once he started he couldn’t stop.

‘She was going to Pakistan to get married, some stinking old warlord in his sixties, can you imagine that, bitch?’ he said, glaring across at Karen, as if he thought that fate would be good for her too.

‘Why?’ asked Walter.

‘Why what?’

‘Why was she going to Pakistan?’

‘I just told you!’

‘But why Pakistan? Why not marry someone here?’

‘She’d been a naughty girl, hadn’t she, a very naughty girl, been fucking Christians. I mean, how low can you go?’

‘Have you ever fucked a Christian, Maaz,’ asked Karen, through a deadpan face.

‘None of your fucking business, bitch! But if you want me to fuck you I’ll do you right now across the desk, live on video, if you want, you’d get quite a thrill out of that, wouldn’t ya? Just tell the black twat to leave and we can get down to business!’

‘Behave yourself!’ bellowed Walter.

Maaz sniffed and glanced away.

There was a brief period of silence and then Walter asked, ‘Who arranged the marriage?’

‘The old blokes, who do ya think?’

‘And you drove her to the airport?’

Maaz nodded.

‘Speak your answer please,’ said Karen.

‘I... drove... her... to... the... air... port.’

‘When was that?’ asked Walter.

Maaz gave them the date, didn’t have to think about it, just spilled it immediately, as if it were ingrained on his confused brain.

‘And you saw her depart?’

‘Nope! Threw her out of the car at the airport. Couldn’t stand to be with the bitch for a second longer than I had to.’

‘So you didn’t see her onto the plane?’ asked Karen.

‘Just said so, didn’t I. Are you thick or what?’

‘The thing is, Maaz, we don’t think she ever got on that plane.’

Maaz grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Then he said, ‘If that’s the case then the old warlord is going to be mighty pissed off, but maybe it was for the best, ’cos no right minded man would want her as a wife. I mean, would you?’

‘What was for the best?’ asked Walter.

‘What you said, if she didn’t get there.’

‘What happened to her, Maaz?’ asked Karen.

‘God alone knows, but let’s hope it was something truly horrific.’

‘Did you kill her, Maaz,’ asked Walter.

‘Oh yeah, strangled her with my bare hands, what do you freaking well think?’

‘Someone killed her,’ said Karen.

‘Is the bitch dead, then?’

‘It’s possible,’ said Walter.

‘Good oh, best news of the day!’

‘She was your sister,’ said Karen.

‘Was, is the operative word, blondie. Are you a bit of a goer, by the way? You look as if there’s a bit of mileage in you,’ and Maaz grinned again in that very odd way of his.

Karen ignored him.

‘Tell me about these Christians she was involved with?’ asked Walter.

‘What do you want to know? Chapter and verse, old man. Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Get your rocks off on it, would you? The dusky wench dropping her knickers for all sorts?’

‘Was she involved with one particular man?’ asked Karen.

‘How the hell would I know?’

‘Was she involved with Luke Flowers?’ asked Walter.

Maaz went to speak, reined himself back, like a pulling stallion being reined in at the last second by a tough rider.

‘Luke who?’

‘You heard what the Inspector said,’ said Karen. ‘She was involved with Luke Flowers, wasn’t she?’

‘As I said before, how the hell would I know?’

IN THE INCIDENT ROOM the crowd was enthralled. Gibbons grinned at Hector who