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

taps spewing water as if it was all done by magic, and clung to the Artesia.bmg engineers who had totally transformed their lives. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

‘Don’t forget,’ Greg said, ‘Five percent of all earnings, yours, mine, Kit’s, everyone’s, goes directly to Artesia.bmg to eradicate poor drinking water supplies across the globe, and the more one earns, the more one donates. I’m proud to donate my share and you will be too, and I often think of all the kids I’ve helped, and maybe even saved some lives though this fantastic initiative.’

‘That’s true,’ mumbled Karen, though she couldn’t help think the way Greg had described it sounded awfully pompous, or was it pretentious? Perhaps both, she imagined, and she smirked at the idea.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Oh nothing.’

‘So,’ he said, thinking he might have finally won her round. ‘Can I sign you up?’

‘I’m still thinking about it.’

‘Don’t be such a doubting Thomas!’

‘I am not! And that’s the second time today you have referred to me with a male name.’

‘Thomasina, if you prefer.’

She went quiet for a moment and said, ‘I’ll sleep on it,’ when in reality she wanted to run the whole idea by Walter and get his opinion. ‘Might ask Walter about it.’

‘You do that,’ he said, rubbing her back like a baby’s. ‘He’s an intelligent man, I’m sure he’ll see the benefit of saving little black kids’ lives in Africa.’

Karen thought that a stupid thing to say, but didn’t comment, as Greg said, ‘Do you want me to stay the night?’

Typical of him really, the finesse of a blind rhinoceros, though in truth she had considered the idea, though he didn’t need to know that, and she found herself saying: ‘No, not tonight, Greg, I’m really not in the mood.’

‘Oh, why not?’

‘I’ve got too much on my mind,’ which was not really true, more of a stock answer.

Greg grinned and said, ‘I thought I was here to banish these horrible thoughts from your mind.’

‘Yeah well, it hasn’t really worked tonight, Mister Orlando. Sorry, and I’m really tired,’ and she jumped up and hustled into the kitchen and washed the coffee mugs, and even Greg must have realised that she wanted him to go home.

Twelve

Across town, Walter and Stevie Cliffe had watched the newly bathed super model walk across the room and plonk herself in an armchair. She sat with her legs scrunched up beneath her, which looked awfully uncomfortable to Walter, and began painting her nails.

‘Nice bath?’ he said.

‘Super thanks, Walter. I take it I’m in the small front bedroom? Taken the liberty of moving my stuff in there.’

‘Yes,’ said Walter, ‘Is that okay?’

‘Fine. Slept in plenty worse places,’ which conjured up odd images in both of the men’s minds. One couldn’t really imagine that of a marquis’s daughter.

She yawned, and she did even that in a gangly kind of way, thought Walter, and then she said, ‘Actually I’m bushed. I think I’ll turn in.’

Walter stood up. Said, ‘Yes, me too, I have to be up early in the morning. You all right on the sofa, Steve?’

Stevie Cliffe nodded and scratched his ear.

‘I’ll get you some bedding, a duvet and stuff.’

Stevie grunted and nodded and Walter followed the model upstairs where he gathered up the necessary and went back down. Cliffe was standing by the sofa, stretching his arms wide as he yawned.

‘This should do you,’ and Walter threw the bedding on the couch.

‘Ta.’

‘What time are you thinking of getting up?’ asked Walter.

‘I usually get up around seven, but I’ll let milady sleep in as long as she wants.’

Walter nodded and said, ‘Will you be going out?’

‘Definitely not! And you won’t tell anyone at the station we are here?’

‘Course not. ’

‘Are all the doors locked?’

‘Yep. Locked and bolted.’

‘I’m a very light sleeper, comes with the job, I’ll wake you if there’s a problem.’

‘You do that,’ said Walter. ‘Shall I leave the door open or closed.’

‘Wide open. I don’t want to have to open internal doors.’

‘Okay, sleep well.’

‘Ta Guv, you too.’

Walter took the empty beer cans out to the kitchen and threw them in the bin. Checked both of the doors one last time and headed upstairs. The loo had just been flushed and the model came out of the bathroom, smiling.

‘Are you sure the small bedroom is okay for you? You can have my big bed if you prefer.’

‘No,’ she said, ‘but thanks, Walter, I am fine in here,’ as she headed for the little room.

‘Okay, if you’re sure.’

‘Goodnight Walter, and thank you.’

‘Goodnight, er, miss,’ momentarily unsure what to call her, for she seemed to be the girl with a hundred names.

She paused in the bedroom doorway. ‘And no sleepwalking during the night, eh?’ she said, ‘accidentally stumbling into my room, I need my beauty sleep, my career depends on it. I know what you older gen’mum can be like,’ and she giggled and closed the door behind her.

Walter went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. She’d been using his toothpaste. Must have left wherever she’d come from in a hurry. He went into his own room and undressed and slipped into the bed, naked. He always slept naked even in the depth of winter. He reflected on her words. I know what you older gen’mum can be like. Dopey girl! If she happened to sleepwalk into his bedroom she’d see more than she bargained for, and before he went to sleep he tried to remember how long it had been since two other people had slept under his roof. He couldn’t think of a single occasion, and he was still thinking of that as he tumbled down into sleep. I know what you older gen’mum can be like!! Phut!!

Thirteen

He woke early, slept well, no interruptions, wet shaved, tried not to make too much noise, and dressed. The door to the little bedroom was still closed, and he went downstairs. Cliffe was already up too, making coffee and toast in the kitchen.

‘Making a bit of brekkie, hope that’s okay?’

‘Course,’ said Walter.