The Ardmore Inheritance by Rob Wyllie (reading the story of the .txt) 📕

So not brilliant, but by the standard of things, a more or less satisfactory day. That was, until he'd got a third call, this time from his mate DI Pete Burnside over at Paddington Green. After which, things took a decided downward spiral.

'I don't expect you've heard pal, but our big friend DCS Barker's got your brother banged up in an interview room over here. Some woman he was having dinner with last night was found up an alley in Fulham, dead as a doorknob. Some of the SOCOs have just got back and they're telling me it's a right mess, three stab wounds to the lower abdomen and blood everywhere, and her clothes ripped too. There's signs of sexual assault too apparently. Her knickers were removed and there's scratches on the inside of her thighs. They're just getting the body down to the morgue for the formal ID but a couple of the young coppers on the squad recognised her right away. Anyway, he's got that Maggie solicitor lady with him and they're questioning him right now. You best get over here sharpish mate.'

It was fortunate that Frank knew most of the guys at Paddington Green and fortunate that all of them despised DCS Colin Barker as much as he did, so he was able to waltz unchallenged past the front desk and down the maze of corridors that lead to Interview Room 6. A uniformed constable whom he vaguely recognised was standing at the closed door.

'I think the tape's running sir,' the constable said apologetically. 'They're in a formal interview session.'

'Good to know,' Frank said, then pushed open the door.

'So what's going on here?' he said, surveying the scene. On one side of a small table sat Jimmy and Maggie, on the other his nemesis Detective Chief Superintendent Barker with a guy he didn't recognised but whom he assumed was a DI or DS assigned to the case.

'Bloody hell, stop the tape Jones, will you?' Barker said in an exasperated tone. 'So it's DI Stewart. I might have known that you would turn up like a bad penny as soon as you heard about this.'

Frank smiled. 'Sorry sir, but I heard the victim was a Macallan and I thought there might be a connection to a line of enquiry we're pursuing.' It wasn't quite true, but it wasn't exactly a lie either. 'So is my wee brother under arrest or what?'

'Jimmy's just helping DCS Barker with his enquiries,' Maggie said pleasantly. 'As far as I can see the police have no evidence against him, so we'll be wrapping this up and leaving in a few minutes.'

'That's for me to decide,' Barker said, adopting his customary pompous tone.

'With respect, it isn't,' Maggie said, raising an eyebrow. 'It's the law. So unless you plan to arrest my client, we're out of here.'

Frank smiled. 'She's got you there sir, I think.'

'If I needed advice on the law, you're the last person I would ask,' Barker said sharply. 'And it might interest you to know that we have a number of witnesses who heard your brother arguing with the victim just a few minutes before she left the restaurant. So it's perfectly reasonable we should identify this man as a possible suspect.'

Jimmy leaned back in his seat and looked at the ceiling. 'How many times do I need to tell you we weren't arguing? She just got annoyed with me for asking how she was, that was all.' His defence was spirited but Frank could tell he was worried.

'So Jimmy,' he said, 'have you told DCS Barker everything you know?'

'Yes,' he replied, 'I told him we had a couple of drinks at her flat, then got a cab to the restaurant. And I told him she was a bit distracted during the meal and then she just took off. To be honest, I thought I'd just been dumped.'

'And that was everything?'

'Aye. I got a wee waitress to look in the ladies’ loo in case she'd passed out or something, and then when I saw that her jacket was gone, I assumed she had legged it. So I settled the bill and went home, a bit pissed off to tell the truth. I sent her a sarcastic text, you know, thanks for a lovely evening or something like that, then went to bed and forgot all about it. And then thirty-six hours later the bloody police turn up at my door saying she's been murdered.'

'So I'm assuming you didn't actually kill this woman then?' Frank said, smiling.

'No, of course I bloody didn't.' Jimmy shot out the words, evidently in no mood for a joke. 'Why would I do that?'

'Well that's fine then,' he said, smiling at Barker. 'Just wanted to make sure you weren't planning to make a confession or anything like that. So like Miss Bainbridge said sir, I think we're done here.'

'Now just wait a minute,' Barker said, spluttering. 'I'm not finished with him yet. There's a lot more background we need to find out.'

'That's fine,' Maggie said, giving a dry smile, 'and of course my client will be delighted to help you with that in any way he can. But we're not doing it here. Make an appointment and you can pop round to our Fleet Street offices at your convenience. Come on Jimmy, let's go.'

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'We'll nip down to the canteen and grab a coffee and you can tell me all about it,' Frank said. 'And I'll tell you about my developments. I think you'll find them more than interesting.'

It was about the only attraction of Paddington Green nick when he came to think about it. They had much better coffee than the vending machine stuff at Atlee House, properly expensive barista stuff with a rich nutty aroma that you could detect from a mile away, served from machines that went woosh as they emitted steam from every