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

arrived. She didn’t speak much English, and she was young, tiny, and scared, just how Brinton liked them. She’d do whatever was asked of her, he’d put his dog’s life on that, and that was how he liked it too.

Pryce glanced at the clock. 18.14. Called Brinton to his office.

Brinton came in and said, ‘Yep?’

‘Give Jessica her last seeing to. Feed, water, ablution, and get her ready for the gurney journey.’

‘Okey-doke.’

‘Found a nurse?’

‘Supposedly, yes, that young titch who came in recently. Good job we didn’t send her to Manchester. She was a trainee nurse in Shanghai apparently, before she opted for her new career path,’ and Brinton laughed at his own joke.

‘She reliable?’

‘We’re about to find out.’

‘She better be! Does she speak English?’

‘Not a lot.’

‘Well you tell Monica that if the new girl fucks up it’ll be the last thing she ever does.’

Brinton nodded. Made sense to him.

‘And you can tell Monica the same thing applies to her too!’

Brinton thought about that for a second.

That didn’t sound quite so good.

‘Don’t just sit there, go and sort out Jessica, and speak to Monica. Make sure she understands how serious this is.’

Brinton looked sour and nodded and hurried outside.

IT WAS 18.25 WHEN WALTER went into Joan West’s room and sat down.

‘Are we making progress?’ she said, in that same shrill tone.

‘Of a sort.’

‘Tell me.’

‘As you know, Rushnell’s now in custody, and we have this vague promise from Kit Napoleon’s solicitor to make good any losses.’

‘Decent gesture, I’d say, there was no obligation for them to do such a thing. Yet another factor that makes me think the whole Future Growth thing is a worthwhile enterprise and thoroughly legit.’

‘Are you thinking of investing, ma’am?’

‘Maybe. You don’t approve?’

‘I think you’d be mad to go anywhere near it.’

‘Your misgivings are duly noted, Walter. How are the electronics searches coming on?’

‘’Bout half way through, should be finished tomorrow.’

‘Any success?’

‘Not a lot, a few illegals still to be checked out, but I’m still optimistic.’

‘Let’s hope so, but not a bad day, Walter, and now I am on my way home because I am going out later. Bridge night. Do you play bridge?’ though she didn’t give him an opportunity to answer her question. ‘Three diamonds and all that,’ and she grinned at Walter and stood up and went to the chrome coat stand.

‘I’ve had worse days,’ muttered Walter, as he ambled out of her room. Somehow he managed to resist the idea of grilling Donald Rushnell that night. He’d let him sweat overnight and tackle him in the morning. It would give him time to come up with some killer questions for he was desperate to implicate Kit Napoleon if he possibly could, for removing him from the streets would solve a few problems.

18.50. BRINTON LET HIMSELF into the pep talk room. Grinned down at Jessica and actually winked.

What a wanker! She thought, and then she saw the large scissors in his right hand.

18.55. WALTER WAS HOME, courtesy of Carrie the Cab from outside Bestdas, grilling bacon, making toast, singing at the top of his voice, some old Marvin Gaye number that Walter gave his own distinct twist to.

18.56. KAREN WAS HOME too, Greg had just arrived bearing not one, but two, bottles of wine.

‘I can’t get legless tonight,’ she said, ‘big day tomorrow, have to be up early. Donald Rushnell is being questioned.’

‘I don’t understand why you are questioning him at all. You know that Kit has guaranteed to make good any losses.’

‘That’s not the point, Greg, the guy stole a quarter of a million quid.’

‘The money’s there, no one has lost a thing, except Kit, surely you should be concentrating on something else.’

Karen knew full well they were concentrating on other things, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

Greg said, ‘Did you speak to Walter about the job offer?’

‘I did.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He said I’d be mad to give up my career.’

Greg smiled that big smile that she liked so much and said, ‘Yeah, but wealthy mad.’

‘I’m thinking about it.’

‘Don’t think about it too long or the offer might disappear.’

Karen didn’t answer, just set the liver and onions and mash and gravy down in front of him.

‘Where’s yours?’

‘Not having any, had a big meal at lunchtime, I’ll have this,’ and she produced an apple and a pear out of one hand.

‘You’re mad. And I wasn’t suggesting you get legless, but a glass of wine with dinner would be nice.’

‘Okay, but just the one, and please get used to the idea that you are not staying tonight,’ and she jumped up and went to the fridge and took out a bottle and unscrewed the top.

‘Oh Karen!’ he sulked, like a stroppy teenager. ‘I was really looking forward to...’

‘To what?’ she said, grinning, and sitting down.

‘Well... you know.’

Karen paused for effect and then said, ‘I said, Mister Orlando, that you will not be staying here the night, I didn’t say that you were barred from getting me excited... before you go,’ and she bit the top off the pear.

‘Oh goody, yum, yum,’ and he shovelled liver and mash down his throat, and chased it with cold chardonnay.

18.57. BRINTON SAT IN the chair opposite Jessica and tapped the scissors into the palm of his left hand.

‘I have some big news for you!’

She couldn’t answer, face taped up like a closed letterbox, and truth was, that was how he liked his women.

‘Johnny Chinaman’s paid the money,’ and he pointed at her with the scissors and said, ‘and you... are on your bike!’

Jessica nodded, it could hardly be any worse than being locked up with this mental case, or could it?

‘So, I thought,’ Brinton continued, ‘that I’d cut off part of your body, retain as a keepsake, souvenir kind of thing, a little memento of our happy time spent together.’

Jessica stared at him, didn’t make a sound, didn’t move a muscle.

‘What do you think, babe?’

‘Urgh, urgh,’ it was the best she could do.

‘So, all we have to do now