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

fit, because his name keeps cropping up.’

‘Well, good luck with that, but I have a feeling that we have just about got to the bottom of it.’

‘You’re probably right, ma’am.’

‘I may see you down there, don’t leave it too long or the float will be exhausted.’

Walter took his cue and stood and went to he door.

‘And Walter?’

‘Yes, ma’am?’

‘Well done, now get out of here.’

He bobbed his head and smiled and headed down to the interview room where Karen was setting up ready.

THEY ARRIVED IN THE Bell just over an hour later. The place was packed and the TV was on.

‘Turn it up, Gibbons!’ someone shouted, and he duly obliged.

The early evening news programmes were beginning.

‘Here it is!’ yelled Gibbons, and in the next moment Mrs West’s opening speech was hurtling through the air, just as she came into the bar and stood beside Walter and Karen.

‘Oh no,’ she said.

‘You looked great,’ said Karen, and Walter wondered if she meant it, or was saying it just to make her feel better.

A moment later Walter came on the big screen and Gibbons led the cheering. Walter hid behind the big pint of stout that Gibbons had thrust into his hand. On the screen Walter was talking.

They had no idea who Gardenia Floem was, let alone employed a person of that name.

Mrs West rolled her eyes and sipped her gin and glanced away.

Then Gardenia herself.

They deserved it! They BLEEP BLEEP deserved it!

‘Case proven, I’d say,’ said Gibbons.

‘Did you really not like her, Walter?’ asked Mrs West.

‘She irritated me.’

Karen blew out heavily, clearly not believing what he had said.

‘Just for a moment when you said, and lastly I would just like to say to our new found friend Gardenia Floem... I thought you were going to propose to her, or tell us all your happy news.’

‘Don’t be absurd, Karen!’

‘I thought that too!’ said Gibbons.

‘How easily led you all are,’ said Walter, sinking half of his pint in one visit.

Karen and Mrs West exchanged knowing glances.

‘Has she confessed?’ asked Gibbons.

‘Pretty much,’ said Karen.

‘She wants to do a deal,’ said Walter. ‘She’ll name the fixer, the armourer, tell us everything she knows about that, and other things too, providing we go easy on her.’

‘We don’t do deals!’ said Mrs West.

‘Course we don’t,’ said Walter, ‘but I’d like to nail one or two more villains while the opportunity’s there.

Thankfully the news item was over. Hector shouted, ‘Turn it on the other side, it’ll be on there in a sec,’ and sure enough it was, and they all had to endure it all over again.

IN THE MORNING KAREN looked dreadful.

‘Heavy night?’ asked Walter.

‘Not really,’ she said, a bit too quickly, and Walter knew that she hadn’t had much sleep. She must have realised he knew that too, and added, ‘It was, if you must know, we all ended up going to some dance club, bobbing till dawn, literally, I can still hear that heavy techno beat thumping in my bones.’

‘The pleasures of the young,’ he said, unable to keep a satisfied smile creeping over his flabby face.

‘We’re only young once,’ she mumbled.

Too true. Thank God.

‘Anyway, I have a job for you this morning. We have an arrest to make.’

‘We do?’

‘We certainly do.’

‘Who?’

‘Get a car organised and I’ll show you.’

‘Marked or unmarked?’

‘Un!’

‘OK, Guv,’ and she shoved off, and as she did so he said, ‘I’ll be down in ten.’

IT WAS A NICE FORD, pretty new, no sign of vomit on the back seat, which was always a plus, and she was standing beside it in her neat black jeans and white blouse. Hungover or not, she looked classy.

‘Can I ask you something, Guv.’

‘Sure.’

‘Would you mind driving today?’

It wasn’t what he thought she was going to say.

He pulled a face and held out his hand for the key.

‘Don’t make a habit of it.’

‘Thanks, Guv.’

He drove across the city to the Red Rose Motel.

‘Mary Hussein, right?’ she said, as he pulled into the car park.

‘Correct.’

‘On what charge?’

‘Aiding and abetting, perverting the course of justice, accessory before the fact, obstructing the police, wasting police time, take your pick.’

Karen jumped from the car, while he eased from the vehicle, and they both walked toward the main entrance.

‘Do you want to arrest her?’ asked Walter.

‘Sure, Guv.’

‘Be my guest.’

It would give her arrest stats a welcome boost, and she deserved it.

‘Thanks.’

Inside, they bumped into the manager, Jack Heale.

‘Not more questions,’ he whined, glancing at his watch.

‘No questions today,’ said Walter, ‘just solving murders, one of which took place on these premises.’

‘Yes well...’

He couldn’t say anything else because the officers were now at the reception desk, staring across at Mary Hussein.

‘Mary Hussein?’ said Karen.

‘I don’t recognise that name,’ she said, ‘My name is now Tanzeela.’

‘Not under English law, love. You are under arrest for aiding and abbetting murder, and perverting the course of justice,’ and with that, Karen opened the end of the counter, stepped through and asked the girl to get her things together.

‘But she can’t go now!’ protested Heale.

Walter pulled a face, a face that said, oh, but she can.

‘Who’s going to do the bookings? We are short staffed as it is!’

‘Employ more people, Mr Heale, that’s what the country needs, more people like you to employ more people, at the end of the day, it’s all about people, there’s nowt else.’

‘Will she be back later?’

‘No idea, but I wouldn’t count on it.’

‘Oh, for Pete’s sake.’

‘He won’t help you either.’

KAREN LED MARY BACK to the car and saw her safely into the back seat. Walter fell into the front. Found the key. Located the hole. Managed to insert it. Turned the key. Looked up and ahead. A young woman was approaching, pretty girl, coming on fast, looked as if she meant business, looked as if she was late.

‘Hang on a sec,’ said Walter, and he turned off the engine and heaved himself out of the car.

Iskra Kolarov saw him coming. History told her to always be wary of the police, even in England. What could he