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

Sometimes they all had to be kept on their toes, and she had long since realised that they were amongst the best times of her service. Fact was, coming down hard on people now and again gave her true pleasure, and it really didn’t matter on whom, or about what. Funny that.

Back in the general office Walter said, ‘Mrs West will see you now.’

‘Oh thanks, Guv, thanks a lot.’

‘Be careful, she’s in a very funny mood.’

Karen stood up, frowned, and said, ‘In what way?’

‘She swore at me... never done that before.’

Karen stood behind him and patted him on the back and said, ‘Ah, never mind, did the big bad grizzly bear get a good talking to? Never mind, there, there, there,’ and she giggled and made to walk away.

‘Just go and see the boss!’

‘Yes, Guv!’ and she laughed and hurried away.

FIVE MINUTES LATER Gibbons came back in the office. Before he had the chance to take off his jacket Walter said, ‘What did Patsy say?’

‘He said the girl is still missing and the rightful owners would pay an increased figure to recover their property.’

‘Any name?’

‘Nah. But I have a better description.’

‘Go on.’

‘White, young, pretty, six foot plus, gangly, striking, Knightsbridge accent, and annoying short, black hair.’

Walter recalled the annoying hair that bumped up and down as she bounded around the house, his house. Pretty accurate description, all things considered.

Gibbons said, ‘I think it should help, the description that is, there are not many birds who’d fit that picture, I was thinking on my way back, I don’t know any girls who look like that,’ and predictably he added, ‘and I know hundreds of women.’

‘We are not looking for a bird, Gibbons, we are looking for a striking young woman.’

Gibbons thought about that for a second and said, ‘Are we, Guv.’

‘Maybe,’ said Walter, keen to change the subject. ‘By the way, Mrs West says you’re a plonker.’

‘What! Why?’

‘Cheese sandwiches, Darren, cheese sandwiches.’

‘Oh that, is that all? I’ll never get in that woman’s good books.’

Walter thought of saying, you’re not alone in that, but left it. He was still smarting from being likened to a pissed pumpkin.

Karen came back.

‘All right?’ said Walter.

‘Yeah fine, she actually wants me to send her the papers, seems like she might be interested.’

Geez, muttered Walter under his breath. Whatever next?

‘What about?’ asked Gibbons.

‘I’m in this new thing,’ said Karen, ‘an earning opportunity.’

But before she could say anymore Walter cut her off.

‘No, not now! We have important work to get on with.’

‘Yeah, sorry Guv, what do you want us to do?’

‘Where’s Hector?’

‘Caressing the photocopier – it only works if you are nice to it – bit like a woman really,’ said Gibbons.

‘You are so predictable, Darren,’ said Karen.

‘Get him over here, will you, it’s story time.’

Karen glanced at her boss and wondered what was coming next.

Darren said, ‘Great, I could do with a laugh.’

Walter proceeded to tell them all he knew about Jessica Stone and the late Sergeant Stevie Cliffe, and DCS Wortley, and the Morgan family, and the whole sorry business.

‘Geez, Guv, I thought you’d been quiet, but all the while this is going on, including the cold blooded murder of one of our own in your front room,’ said Gibbons.

Walter nodded. Didn’t speak. Just looked at Karen.

She stared back and he could tell she was miffed he hadn’t told her a thing. ‘I was under strict orders not to say a word. Come on, get off my case, it’s bad enough that Mrs West thinks I’m a...’ and he paused as if searching for the correct word.

‘Glory hunter,’ suggested a grinning Gibbons, and that was such a ludicrous idea they all laughed aloud.

‘So what’s the priority?’ asked Karen.

‘The Oriental girl,’ said Walter. ‘Mrs West wants us to concentrate on that.’

‘But you don’t?’ suggested Hector.

‘No, I do, but I want to keep abreast of the Jessica Stone hunt too. If she’s on our patch I want to know where she is, and who is holding her and why. Fact is, she could be in danger. We need to find her, and quick.’

‘What’s she like?’ asked Gibbons.

‘Well, she’s... different,’ said Walter.

‘In what way?’ asked Hector.

‘Just different, not your average girl next door type. You’d certainly take a second look if you saw her in the street, or in the pub, or if she came in here.’

‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ said Hector.

‘Is she sexy?’ asked Gibbons, ever eager to get down to basics.

Walter made to speak but no words appeared.

‘The Guv’s lost for words, must mean he likes her,’ teased Karen, smiling at the others.

‘Not quite,’ said Walter.

‘So what’s the plan?’ asked Karen.

‘I want everyone here at 7am sharp. I want the monster on, and we’ll go through everything we have. We’ll divide up the team...  and solve crimes.’

They all looked at him without saying a word. The quiet period in Chester crime circles had definitely come to an end. Things were going to get exciting, and that was precisely the way they liked it.

‘I don’t wish to complicate the issue,’ said Karen, ‘but we have this missing person report as well.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten.’

‘Shall I send Jan and Jenny when they come back?’

‘No. We’ll go ourselves. Some fresh air might do us good.’

‘When?’

‘Now. Organise a car.’

Twenty-Six

Donny Rushnell lived on a smallholding that backed onto the canal at Waverton. In the centre of the plot stood a large high gabled Edwardian house, red brick, original black and white windows, Welsh slate roof. The house was called Remembrance though it didn’t live up to its name, as no one could remember why, and now that it was a centenarian, only more so, the ravages of time were catching up with the old dear. It was draughty, cold, damp, and rambling, and would cost a fortune to put right, money the Rushnell family did not possess.

Donny lived with ageing parents, Colin and Christine Rushnell, and they just about kept the wolf from the door with their tulips and chrysanths - Chrissie’s department, and leeks, vegetables, raspberries,