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

‘So what do I get?’

‘You get the products and...  you get the privileges.’

‘Good! At last. Maybe we are getting somewhere. Let’s start with the products.’

‘You want me to list them all?’

‘Yes please.’

‘God, you are one hard woman to deal with,’ said Greg, and he smiled his best hunk smile, ‘but if the woman wants the details she shall have them.’

‘Good. Go on.’

‘Well, first of all, you get your own website.’

‘I don’t want a frigging website!’

‘You do!! It’ll be an earner for you. A sleeper. You’ll earn money while you sleep, while you are at work, while you are on holiday, while you are in the pool, while you are being naughty, while you are doing absolutely any damned thing! All the time you are on this planet you are earning money.’

‘And the website will be called what?’

Greg exhaled and cut another piece of steak. ‘WWW dot FGPP dot com forward slash Karen Greenwood.’

She grinned and said, ‘And the forward slash is important?’

‘Course it is... get out of here!’

‘And what else?’

‘Well, the website sells the products for you, you don’t need to do a thing, the books, the software, the courses, it’s all automatic, re-routed through HQ, and it’s on all the time, 24/7, that’s the beauty of it, you’ve seen how well my site does. Yours can be just as good.’

‘And it recruits too?’

‘It can do, if you want it to, but there’s no obligation.’

‘Can I ask you something about money?’

‘Course! You can ask me anything you like. We’re a couple, we don’t have any secrets, you can always ask me anything you damn well please, you know that.’

Karen nodded and said, ‘This three grand I am giving you to give to Kit and his mob, how much of that does he kick back to you as commission?’

‘Well... er, well, I am on level five now, as you know, and well, you’ll be on level one, just as soon as you sign up, so it’ll be something quite decent.’

‘How much, Greg?’

Greg shifted in his seat and tried to catch the eye of the waitress. It wasn’t going as well as he had hoped and maybe another white wine might smooth the way.

‘God, you are a hard man to pin down! How much, Greg?’

‘A thousand.’

‘Geez. Lucky you! You’ve done all right, haven’t you?’

‘I was thinking of taking you on holiday with it, if you must know.’

Karen smiled. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘Where to?’

‘Anywhere you like.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah... within reason.’

‘I’d like to go to Madagascar.’

‘God, that’s different.’

‘You said anywhere.’

‘Within reason, I said. Anyway the thing is, if you don’t sign up soon someone else might get in before you and take “your” website address.’

‘The Karen Greenwood part, right?’

‘Yes. Exactly.’

‘Unlikely, I’d have thought.’

‘There are sixty Karen Greenwoods on Bookface alone.’

‘Are there? How do you know?’

Greg smiled and said, ‘I looked, when I was checking out your pages. So, can I tell Kit that you are in?’

‘I’m still thinking about it.’

‘Geez! What have I got to do to convince you?’

Karen gazed into his eyes and smirked.

‘Say no more, I’m right there!’

Ten

Cliffe sat back on the sofa and blinked and said, ‘The story goes that she came back late one night from a fashion soiree. Ricky had wanted to go, went to all her shows, but cried off, blaming vitally important business. She arrived home earlier than expected. Heard shouting and hollering in the house. The brothers probably didn’t hear her come in for all the commotion; the door to the sitting room was ajar. She glanced in and saw the deed.’

‘Who was it?’

‘A guy called Bradley Samuelson, ran an online bookies, the brothers had lost a huge bet, but insisted they had won all along and demanded a big payout. Samuelson wasn’t having anything to do with that. Cost him his life.’

‘Shot?’

‘No, nothing so clean. Billy had hold of the bookie, pulling him back with an old wire coat hanger around his neck, Ricky had been to the kitchen, collected the biggest and sharpest carving knife in the house, sliced off Bradley’s nose with one swish, the guy’s mouth must have opened, too good an opportunity for Ricky to miss, grabbed the guy’s tongue, hacked that off too, it was found later on the carpet, then stabbed him in the eye, and finally stabbed him in the guts.’

‘Jesus!’

‘You can say that again.’

‘And the skinny six foot she thing witnessed all that?’

‘Pretty much. It must have looked like the bloodiest scene in some gangster movie. Probably didn’t believe what she was seeing.’

‘Must have messed with her mind.’

‘You can say that again.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Jessica turned about and staggered across the hallway intent on getting out of there, but it must have got the better of her, she felt dizzy and began vomiting over the marble floor, and the retching must have alerted the brothers, next thing is they are beside her, comforting her, but she is not to be comforted, started screaming “MURDERERS!!” at them, and didn’t stop, apparently.’

‘How did she get away?’

‘She didn’t, not initially.’

‘So, what happened?’

‘They kept her in the house. In the morning Ricky called the model agency, told them that Jessica had fallen down the stairs, broken her leg, would be off for at least six months, told them to cancel all her bookings, they were shocked of course, sent flowers and cards and chocolates, all that stuff, tried to get in and see her too but were turned away, too ill, they were told, and that house is a fortress as you can imagine, and Jessica Stone was held there as a captive against her will, not allowed access to the phone or internet, cut off from the outside world.’

‘What about the father? The marquis? He must have wondered what the hell was going on.’

‘Conveniently, for the Barton brothers, he had suffered a heart attack while out grouse shooting in the frozen north. Financial worries had finally got the better of him, so the doc’s report said. He wasn’t in any position to make any enquiries about anything, at