You Had It Coming by B.M. Carroll (best fiction novels .TXT) 📕

freezes, unable to open the envelope. Kaz shows no such reticence. She takes out the folded paper and reads aloud: ‘Lucas and Daniella are delighted to announce their engagement …’

37

BRIDGET

Thursday morning brings some promising developments. Sasha turns up at Bridget’s desk looking extremely pleased with herself.

‘Sasha, what have you got for me?’

‘Two things, actually. A payment of five thousand dollars to Emily Wickham that wasn’t salary related. Plus, you know those flowers that Megan received from Joshua? Well, turns out it was our Ms Wickham who organised them. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Is it Joshua who wants to know about his father’s final words or is it Emily? Is Emily pulling Joshua’s strings?’

It does make you wonder. Five thousand dollars: is it enough money to mean something?

‘When was the transfer made?’

‘About a month before Newson’s death. From his personal bank account, not the business one. We didn’t highlight it on first review because it didn’t seem big enough. But maybe it’s the tip of something?’

‘Maybe. See if you can find any other payments. Backdate to when she started working for him.’

The next development comes later in the morning, from Dave. He flops down on her visitor’s seat, a self-satisfied grin on his broad face.

‘Got something mega interesting for you, Bridge!’

‘The identity of our mystery man at the train station?’ Bridget asks hopefully, scanning an email before pressing send.

‘No, sorry, facial images too indistinct. No, it’s to do with the Newson side of things.’

‘What is it?’

‘Only that Suzanne Newson is in a relationship with her old next-door neighbour, Diana Simon.’

Bridget’s hands stiffen on her keyboard. The nosy neighbour and Suzanne Newson a couple? That is something interesting. ‘And how do you know this?’

‘Suzanne’s phone records. The same number kept reappearing. Did some digging on social media and found a photo that says “more than just friends”.’

Dave is triumphant. It’s a fresh angle. It’s a plausible motive – Suzanne or Diana wanting to remove the pesky ex-husband from the picture. It suggests that the deaths are unrelated; the answer to William Newson’s shooting may not lie with Thomas Malouf after all. And it’s yet another name to add to the whiteboard in the detective inspector’s office. Bridget can hear Katrina’s sardonic tone: And you’re calling this progress?

She makes an impulsive decision. ‘Might be time for another visit to Suzanne Newson. Want to come along?’

‘Can’t. Meeting one of the tech guys in half an hour. He’s in demand, don’t want to have to reschedule.’

‘I’ll take Sasha, then.’

Sasha, who has spent the morning wading through bank transactions, is more than happy to take a trip in the car.

Half an hour later they’re standing outside Suzanne Newson’s bottle-green front door. Bridget knocks and on cue the dog starts barking from inside.

‘Mabel, shush!’ Suzanne opens the door, and the dog rushes out to greet them, jumping and yelping with excitement. ‘Oh, hello again.’

Bridget smiles brightly. ‘Hello, Suzanne. Sorry to drop by unannounced. This is my colleague, Detective Constable Sasha McEvoy. Do you have a minute?’

‘Is there news?’ Suzanne’s plump face is creased with what appears to be genuine concern.

‘No news. Still following up various leads. Just want to clarify your relationship with Diana Simon.’

‘Oh …’ Suzanne seems to deflate. She steps back from the doorway, to make space for them to pass. ‘You better come in, then.’

Bridget and Sasha follow Suzanne into the kitchen-living area. Bridget makes directly for the photographs displayed above the TV unit. There’s one of Suzanne and another woman holding flutes of champagne: it’s exactly as Bridget remembers it.

‘So, this is Diana?’ she checks. The other woman has strong cheekbones and blonde hair. She looks younger than Suzanne. Bridget overlays the image with her brief sighting of Diana peering from her upstairs window, the day when Bridget discovered the etching on the tree: YOU HAD IT COMING. Is that what Diana thought? And Suzanne?

‘Yes.’ Suzanne’s cheeks have turned pink, a similar shade to her cotton shirt. ‘Look, neither of us have been attracted to women in the past. Diana just happens to be someone I love very dearly. She feels the same about me … We have so much in common – gardening, the theatre, our dogs … Does any of this make sense?’

Bridget recently read a newspaper article about late-blooming lesbians. Women who’d had long-term, successful relationships with men, and later in life had equally successful relationships with women. Rather than having suppressed their true sexuality, the article suggested that women’s sexuality is fluid and can shift over time.

But Bridget is not here to ‘make sense’ of Suzanne’s sexual identity. She’s here to figure out if it provided motivation for the murder of her ex-husband three weeks ago.

‘How did your sons take the news that you and Diana were in a relationship?’

‘Badly,’ Suzanne admits with a heavy sigh. ‘Especially Joshua. He lives in Sydney – it’s in his face more than the other two. Diana’s kids aren’t thrilled either, to be honest.’

Is this the real reason why Quentin and Riley chose to stay with Joshua instead of their mother when they returned home for the funeral? Proximity to good restaurants wasn’t a likely factor after all, which means they’re not as shallow as Bridget thought, but also means they’re less open-minded.

‘And how did Mr Newson respond?’

‘William thought I’d lost my mind. He wanted me to see a psychologist.’

The two women look happy in the photograph. Comfortable in themselves and with each other. But Bridget knows enough not to be duped by a photograph. Smiles and glasses of bubbly in the picture frame, and all the ugly stuff – ex-husbands, seething children, contentious divorce settlements – conveniently cropped out.

Bridget turns so she’s looking Suzanne full in the face. ‘So, this was the real reason behind the disintegration of your marriage?’

Suzanne’s denial is vehement. ‘No! My relationship with Diana began at least six months after the separation. I think I mentioned before that William started to represent repeat offenders? That was the tipping point for me. I couldn’t reconcile myself