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

Five bedrooms it had, the 1930s property, and truth was, they didn’t really need five bedrooms, but there were occasions when they would put up special people and high achievers, and level fivers, for pep-talk weekends, sharing best wine, and stories and ideas and fun. He had brought his ageing parents there just the once and all they could say was: ‘Whatever do you need a draughty five bedroom house like this for, Keith?’

He hadn’t been Keith for years, though they would never accept that, and he knew that what they really meant was: You couldn’t even produce us a grandchild, you failure! - Five bedrooms filled with silence and empty beds.

He hadn’t brought them again, nor ever would.

He remembered why he was thinking about the Ellie Napoleon Center. They needed a publicity manager for the place. Someone with élan, someone he could trust, someone who would make a fantastic success of the whole project, and he knew precisely the person he wanted to fill the vacancy.

It had come to him when he was in the shower. Many of his better ideas often did, Ellie knew that well enough, so much so that occasionally when they were stuck for a good idea or a problem solution, she would suggest, smirking, ‘Why don’t you go and have a shower?’ and usually he would. Occasionally, when he was really stuck, she might even join him.

He smiled at himself in the glass, an odd smile if truth be told, and things were happening next door in the bathroom, and the door opened. Had he really been daydreaming at night-time so much? The beautiful Jennifer came out in a haze of steam and perfume, wearing a very expensive nightdress, and she saw him sitting there and said: ‘Aren’t you in bed yet? You’re not even undressed. Come on, lover, you have a very big day tomorrow,’ and she stood him up and unbuttoned his waistcoat, and he looked down at her, and she looked pretty cool too, but how he wished that standing there before him was Ellie.

‘Fuck!’ he said.

‘Beg pardon?’

‘Oh, sorry darling, nothing, I’ve just remembered something I’d forgotten to do.’

‘Something important?’

‘No. Just some printing I wanted doing.’

‘Leave it! And get to bed,’ and she was already in the giant’s bed, spreading herself out on her back in that strange way of hers, an invitation that Kit did not miss, and one he was not about to spurn.

Fifty-Three

Brinton glanced at his watch. Half an hour yet before the guys were due back with the new units. He thought of the supermodel. She might need something. Better to be safe than sorry. Better check. Better go and give her the once over. Grabbed his keys and headed down the corridor.

Opened and closed the necessary doors, and opened up the pep talk room, switched on the light. The woman screwed up her face and blinked and peered at the man in the doorway. She’d seen him before, ah yes, the man who’d emptied her bowl. She didn’t like him, she didn’t like Pryce either, but there was something about this guy that set her automatic antennae on full alert. Perhaps Pryce was away, perhaps number two here might make a mistake, might give her a chance to escape. She only needed one chance, and she’d take it. He entered the room and closed the door, sat on the edge of the desk and said, ‘Do you wanna use the bowl?’

She shook her head.

‘Do you want something to drink?’

She nodded.

Seemed reasonable.

He went in the desk and pulled out a bottle of water. But was it truly water? Yes, it must be, leastways it wasn’t acid, because this time it was in a plastic bottle. He went round behind her and roughly pulled the tape from her mouth.

‘Careful!’ she said, as soon as she could, even before gulping air.

He didn’t reply, unscrewed the bottle and set it to her lips. She was disappointed. Thought he might have released her hands. She gagged on the water, he was tipping it up too high and too fast, she moved her mouth away and coughed and it spilt down her blouse and jeans.

‘That was clever. Stupid woman!’

He screwed the top on the bottle and set it on the desk. Grabbed the roll of tape. Pulled out a decent piece, didn’t have anything to cut it with, tore it off with his hands, and it was tough stuff. Perhaps he was trying to impress her. Stuck it on her mouth, but not as carefully as Pryce had done. Maybe she could remove it later with her tongue, lips, and teeth.

He went round behind her, began blowing on her hair. She always knew the guy was a creep.

‘Weird haircut,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t do anything for you,’ and his hands were round the side of the chair, touching her body, groping her breasts.

Jessica remained quite still, and silent.

Didn’t see any benefit in doing anything else.

‘Not much of you, is there? Methinks your new bloke will soon grow tired of you, and then where will you be? Up shit creek, that’s where,’ and he laughed at his weird reasoning. ‘Never mind, eh, must be off, got some new meat coming in,’ and he went to the desk and put the tape and water away. Turned round and glanced down. The weirdo woman stared back.

‘Do you want to use the bowl?’

‘Err ugh,’ she attempted to say, and he laughed at that, as he tried to make out what she’d said. Could have been Get Lost! could even have been Fuck Off! Cheeky bint, she should be more careful. Fancy anyone paying more than two million dollars for a weirdo like that, they were sure to be disappointed; just went to prove the world was full of utter poltroons.

He stood in the doorway, his hand on the light switch, and stared down into her eyes. ‘Sweet dreams,’ he said, and then added, ‘I’ll be back,’ and