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

those and serve them up with a little fromage frais, rocket lettuce, and some crisp bread.

WALTER GNAWED THE LAST of the chicken off the bones and set them haphazardly on the plate. He licked his lips and wiped his fingers and mouth on the pieces of paper towel he had brought with him from the kitchen.

He’d have to ask her for the recipe, for they were gorgeous. He got up and took the plate back into the kitchen and made his way down the hall to the landline phone. Picked it up, dabbed in Carlene’s easy to remember local number that resembled a taxi rank number. 08080.

She answered pretty much straight away.

‘And how is Mrs Henderson tonight?’

‘I am fine, and how is Mr Darriteau?’

‘I’m great. I’ve just finished the chicken, it was fab, you must give me the recipe.’

‘I’ll dig it out.’

‘Actually, that’s not why I rang.’

‘Oh?’

‘I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed last night.’

‘I thought you did, I’m so glad, I did too.’

‘And I wondered if you’d like to go out for a drink later?’

Carlene sighed and said, ‘Ah.’

That didn’t sound so good, thought Walter, so he said, ‘Or maybe tomorrow?’

‘This is a little awkward, Walter.’

‘What is?’

‘I’ve had an email, a couple of hours ago.’

‘From?’

‘My husband.’

‘I thought you said you were separated.’

‘I am. We are. He lives in New Zealand, and you can’t get much more separated than that.’

‘So?’

‘He’s coming back next week.’

‘But when you said separated, I thought you meant it was all over and done with between you two.’

‘It is.... in a way. I haven’t seen him for six months.’

‘But you’re not completely separated, are you?’

‘We are! It’s difficult, Walter, awkward, I told you, I’ll have to see him, I can’t just refuse to speak to him, or see him.’

‘I see. So where does that leave....’

‘Leave us? I don’t know. We’ll just have to talk again, when things are clearer, when he’s been and gone. He’s not staying long. Look, I’m really sorry, Walter, we’ll speak again soon, yeah? I’ll have to go now, I’ve things I must sort out, bye-eee,’ and she put the phone down.

Walter glared at the old wallpaper.

‘Bugger,’ he said softly, setting the phone down, and he sighed and returned to the lounge where he put his shoes back on. He didn’t feel like sitting in the house all alone all night brooding on that news. He’d amble down to the local pub where there were a good gang of fellas who welcomed him into their company, not least since he had become something of a minor celeb locally, been on local news TV quite a few times.

He’d sink a few glasses of the black stuff, and no doubt would have to withstand the same old joke: Thick black stuff for a thick black man, and listen to a few other jokes too, some at his expense, some not, hopefully a few of them might even be funny, maybe even tell a few too, and he’d do his damnedest to forget all about Carlene bloody Henderson for the day, and night. Sounded like a plan, and a hell of a good one at that.

Seventeen

Karen was first at work in the morning, looking refreshed and much happier than the day before. Walter came in ten minutes later looking a little worse for wear. He’d cut himself shaving too, on the left side of the chin, and though the trace of blood had hardened up, it still looked a mess.

Nicky Barr arrived next and said a happy good morning, and as he passed Walter’s desk, Walter growled, ‘I want a word with you.’

‘Sure, Guv. What’s going down?’

‘You were off yesterday.’

‘Yeah, I told Gibbons.’

‘You didn’t tell me, or any senior officer.’

‘Sorry, Guv. Didn’t think.’

‘This job is all about thinking, DC Barr. It’s what we do. If you can’t think, you are of little use to me. Understand?’

Nicky looked at Walter quizzically, thinking he’d got away with it, and said, ‘Yeah sure, Guv, sorry,’ and went to walk away.

‘I haven’t finished with you yet! Funeral, was it?’

Nicky stopped still and said, ‘Yeah, something like that.’

‘Well, was it a funeral or wasn’t it?’

‘It was.’

‘And whose funeral was it?’

‘My old gran’s. I told Gibbons.’

Walter scratched his chin, taking care to avoid the cut, and said, ‘What was your grandmother’s name?’

‘Pardon, Guv.’

‘Please don’t make me repeat everything, DC Barr. You heard me the first time.’

‘Dorothy Barr. Why? What’s up?’

‘And where was this funeral?’

‘At the crem.’

‘And what time was it?’

‘Eh? In the morning. Eleven o’clock.’

‘So if I rang the crem now and asked them who was cooking at eleven o’clock yesterday morning they’d tell me it was Dorothy Barr, would they?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t have quite put it like that, but yeah, they should do.’

Walter pursed his lips and said nothing.

‘Is that it, Guv?’

‘Let’s see, shall we? Let’s ring,’ and Walter picked up the phone and spoke to the main switchboard operator, and asked them to get the crematorium on the line.

Nicky Barr looked nervous and scratched his chin.

Walter stared at the phone, waiting.

Nicky said, ‘Actually, Guv....’

‘Actually, what?’

‘There wasn’t a funeral yesterday.’

‘There was no Barr family funeral yesterday? What? Not at all?’

‘No, Guv. Sorry.’

The phone rang and the switchboard operator said, ‘I have the crem on the line.’

‘Thanks, but I don’t need them any longer. Sorry to have wasted your time.’

‘No problem,’ came back the singsong happy voice.

Walter glared at Nicky and said, ‘So you lied to Gibbons, and you lied to me. In fact you lied to me several times.’

‘Sorry Guv, it’s just that the girlfriend....’

‘I don’t want to know anything about your bloody girlfriend!’

Nicky nodded hard and said nothing, which right there was just about the best thing he could have done.

‘This office,’ said Walter, wafting his big hand around, ‘spends a great deal of time tracking down liars, tripping up liars, tying them up in their own webs of lies and deceit, so how do you think it looks when one of our own, right here, one of my team, thinks it’s okay