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

‘Alligators!’ said Walter, trying not to laugh.

‘Are ya? God, that must be exciting.’

‘It can be.’

‘Bloody dangerous things I would think.’

‘You have to keep your wits about you,’ and as he was saying that she was pulling the car to a standstill behind Stevie Cliffe’s dark saloon. He gave her a big tip and she said, ‘Ta, pal, I’ll remember you,’ and she watched him in the mirrors as he struggled out with his groceries.

He gave her a little wave as best he could and she nodded and grinned, and she pulled away and turned left at the end of the road, and she thought, hang on a minute, hang on, she had never seen alligators at Chester zoo. Didn’t believe there were such things. He was a bullshitter, that’s what he was, but that wasn’t unusual; there were a lot of them about. She didn’t believe half of the nonsense she was told in that cab. He was a good tipper though, she’d remember that, and she’d remember him.

INSIDE, THE TWO OF them were playing pontoon on the coffee table, using Walter’s cards out of the old sideboard. The Glock was still on the table, didn’t look like it had moved an inch.

‘Hi Walter,’ she said, and he wondered if she had had a boring time locked up in the house all day. Walter stood in the lounge doorway and nodded at Cliffe and said, ‘Everything okay?’

‘Quiet as the proverbial. Just as I like it.’

‘I’ll get some dinner on.’

She jumped up and followed him into the kitchen.

‘Have you had a busy day, Walter? Can I help you with anything?’

‘Yes, and yes, and look here,’ and he took the two cartons of juice out of the bag and handed them to her.

‘Thanks, Walter, you are spoiling me.’

‘And for dinner, three fish, chips, and mushy peas, ready meals, take thirty minutes in the oven.’

Didn’t say anywhere on the packet they were cod, God alone knows what the fish was, but within the hour all the food had vanished, though the girl with a hundred names carefully picked all the batter from the fish, pushing it to one side of the plate. Cliffe noticed that quickly enough, and reached over and jabbed his fork into the leftovers and stabbed them on to his plate, and Walter thought that a bit of a nerve, because he wanted to do the damn same thing.

‘Bought a lemon cheesecake for afters,’ said Walter, grinning at the thought of it.

‘Great stuff!’ said Cliffe. ‘Don’t forget to put it down on your expenses.’

‘None for me, thanks Walter,’ said the girl. ‘Watching my weight.’

‘What weight?’ said both of the guys as one.

Jessica grinned like a happy kid.

‘No, but I would have if I ate your blimmin cheesecake, and then where would I be? Out of work, that’s where.’

‘Getaway!’ said Walter, and after that the evening followed the same pattern as the night before, strangely, almost a carbon copy.

‘I know you’ll think it’s silly, but do you think I could have another bath? I like a regular bathe.’

Walter raised his eyebrows; he bathed twice a week in the winter, and twice as often in the summer, the autumn was mix and match, but if she wanted to bathe every day, that was fine by him. Immersion heater on again. More leccy. More cost. More things to remember for the ever-growing official chit list. But it served a purpose, getting her out of the way, because Walter wanted to talk to Cliffe about a couple of things.

WHEN SHE’D GONE WALTER said, ‘There’s been a little development.’

Cliffe sat up in his chair. ‘Like what?’

‘One of our snouts reported there’s a big payday on offer for anyone who can locate a girl.’

‘Our girl?’

‘Looks that way.’

‘That’s worrying.’

‘Yes, it could be.’

‘Do you think they have an inkling she’s holed up round here?’

‘Hard to say.’

‘Did you tell your boss?’

‘No, she’s still away. I’ll have to tell her when she comes back. How long are you likely to stay?’

‘I’m waiting for a call from the gaffer.’

‘Maybe you should call him, tell him what we know, see if he has any news on moving you on.’

Cliffe nodded and pulled out his phone. Selected the number. Pressed call. Phone switched off. Not very helpful.

An hour later the girl reappeared. Same white robe.

‘I know you have been shopping already today, Walter, I didn’t think, and I’m sorry about this, but I have a little shopping list.’

‘Typical woman,’ said Cliffe, as he sat and polished the Glock.

‘Do you want some money?’ she asked.

Walter glanced at the list. Toothpaste. Mouthwash. Camomile tea. Decaf coffee. So much for only ever drinking juice. Echinacea. WTF? Shampoo, very specific brand. Vegetarian sausages. Low fat yoghurt. Cholesterol busting margarine, and a few other things besides.

Walter glanced at Cliffe.

He nodded and said, ‘Stick it on expenses.’

‘Thanks,’ said the girl, ‘I’m turning in, need my beauty sleep, night night,’ and then she was gone.

Sixteen

In the morning Walter was up early, Cliffe was up too, no sign of movement from the little bedroom, door closed. Not a sound. Walter nodded a goodbye to Cliffe, paused in the front door and came back for the shopping list, nodded again and went outside.

Same as, same as, Sid the spider was still there, dewy web, ever hopeful, the car was still there too, sleeping, untouched dew covered, getting dusty, tyres inflated ready for a quick getaway, and the sun was still cheerfully on display, low in the sky, just getting into its stride. Another fine day forecast, a true Indian summer.

Gibbons had been to see Patsy. Reported back that the money was still on offer. Girl still missing, so the underground grapevine reported. A big opportunity for someone, and the Cheshire county crime amnesty had stretched into another day. No murders, suspicious deaths, serious assaults, rapes, armed robberies, serious frauds, terrorist offences, et al, reported anywhere. Walter knew darned well what would happen. They would all come at once, pound to a