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

‘Nice place,’ said Walter.

‘Very nice,’ said Karen, as they ambled up the path and Walter rang the doorbell.

A young blonde woman, presumably Grizelda Rekatic, came to the door straight away. Opened up, looked out, saw a big bear-like black man, and a slim blonde. Grizzy hadn’t put on any makeup, though she didn’t need it, she must have looked dreadful, she imagined, though Walter thought she looked incredibly beautiful, in tight jeans and white blouse, not unlike Karen herself.

‘Grizelda Rekatic?’ said Walter.

‘Yes. And you are?’

Karen flashed ID and did the intros.

‘Police?’ she said, alarmed, as people always are. ‘There’s nothing wrong is there? With Miro? Or the children, there’s nothing wrong with the children is there? God forbid!’

‘Nothing like that,’ reassured Karen.

‘We just need to ask you a few questions, routine enquiries, nothing for you to worry about.’

‘You’d better come in.’

Walter smiled and entered the smart house. Grizzy showed them into a luxurious front sitting room, where everything was new and neat and just so.

‘Take a seat,’ she said. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? The kettle’s just boiled.’

Normally they’d always say no, but Walter’s throat was dry, and the chair was particularly comfy, and he found himself saying, ‘That would be nice, thanks, milk no sugar.’

Karen said, ‘No thanks,’ and Grizzy left the room.

There was the same silver framed photo on the glass coffee table featuring the two beautiful girls, and smart pictures on the walls, but nothing else of interest.

Grizzy came back and set a mug of tea before Walter, and, clutching her own cup, she sat down, and said, ‘So what can I do for you? It isn’t every day the police come calling.’

Walter sipped the tea. It was good.

Karen said, ‘Can you tell us where Miro was between midnight and 2am on the night of...’ and she repeated the date of Bel’s murder.

‘Miro?’ said Grizzy. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Was he here?’ asked Walter.

‘Of course he was here, we were in bed, sleeping, he is very busy at present, with all the expansion, he’s often very tired when he gets home, he needs his rest.’

I’ll bet he does, thought Karen.

‘Are you certain he was here?’ said Walter. ‘You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?’

‘Of course I would not lie. My mutter always taught me not to lie. I never lie. Not ever. What is this all about?’

Walter took a deep breath.

‘There was a woman murdered in Chester that night.’

‘Murdered? What has this got to do with my Miro? I not understand.’

‘We are just eliminating people from our enquiries, that’s all.’

‘You don’t think Miro had anything to do with it, do you?’

‘As I said, we are just ruling people out,’ said Walter.

‘I think you not tell me everything.’

You’re right there, thought Karen, biting her lip. Did the woman have a right to know that Miro visited prostitutes, that he restrained them and beat them till they bled, and harassed the beautiful young women at work, and heaven knows what else.

Walter drank tea and took a card from his top jacket pocket and set it on the glass table.

‘If you think of anything else, you can ring me anytime.’

‘Is that it?’ she said, glancing at the card.

‘Yes,’ said Walter. ‘That’s it.’

The phone in the hallway rang.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, getting up and going through and answering it.

They heard her say, ‘Yes, they’re here now. What’s this all about, Miro?’ and they guessed he said something like: ‘I’ll tell you later.’ She put the phone down and came back into the sitting room.

‘It was Miro. He was as evasive as you.’

‘You’ve answered our questions, Mrs Rekatic, thank you,’ said Karen, and they got up and headed for the door.

‘I’m not sure I understand what’s happened here,’ she said, opening the front door.

‘Thanks again,’ said Walter, ‘nothing to it,’ and in the next second they walked away from the house and got in the car.

A COUPLE OF MINUTES later Karen said, ‘That was tricky.’

‘It always is.’

‘Do you think she had a right to know?’

‘Probably, but it’s not down to us to bugger up other people’s marriages.’

‘I think he’s doing a good enough job of that himself.’

‘Yeah, the fool. But I imagine he’ll be in for some tough questioning later.’

‘The least he deserves. Did you believe her?’

‘What, about him being at home at the TOD? Yes, I did. You?’

‘Yes, I did too, unfortunately.’

‘You know what that means, don’t you?’

‘It means he’s innocent of the Belinda Cooper murder, if nothing else, if she’s telling the truth.’

‘The more of them we can rule out, the quicker we can rule someone in.’

‘Yeah, but he’s still in the frame for whatever happened to Ellie Wright.’

‘Maybe we have two separate cases after all.’

‘Could be, so where to now, Guv?’

‘The high school, and Iain Donaldson.’

Walter glanced at the car clock. It was just on noon.

‘Put on the radio,’ he said. ‘See if there is anything on the news.’

She flicked the controls on the steering wheel and the midday news, courtesy of the local radio station, came on.

A woman has been found murdered in Chester in her own home. Police say that she has not yet been identified. Our sources tell us that she was bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat, and some people are already referring to the death as the Baseball Bat Murder. In other news the local MP has called for greater action to help youth unemployment...

‘Turn it off,’ said Walter.

‘Didn’t take long for that to get out.’

‘Indeed,’ said Walter. ‘Inevitable, I suppose, and she wasn’t bludgeoned to death.’

‘No, someone’s got that bit wrong. Who do you think leaked the story?’

‘Could be Ronald Speight, he seemed to relish and deal in lurid gossip.’

‘Possibly, just so long as it isn’t one of the home team. Here we are, the high school,’ and Karen turned right off the main road, and down the long straight approach to the redbrick school. The car park was half empty, and they slid into a space close to the main entrance and jumped out,