Ultimate Dilemma (Justice Again Book 2) by M Comley (poetry books to read .txt) 📗

thought better of it. Didn’t want that particular conversation preying on his mind for the rest of his life is how he put it.”

“I don’t blame him either. Crap. Okay, anything else, Charlie?”

“Nope, that’s about it from me.”

“All right, well, if you’ve got nothing else for us, Patti, we’d better go and break the news to his wife. Bloody hell, why did I have to take this case?”

Patti rubbed Katy’s arm to comfort her. “Now then, I have faith in you, Katy. You’ve got this.”

“Yeah, okay, I think I’ll be all right. Piss, after a long day at work, I just hope I don’t make any mistakes and mess everything up. It’s hard enough telling a loved one their spouse isn’t coming home again, let alone adding that he died a gruesome death.”

“My advice would be not to tell her. She won’t know about his eyes until any court case, there’s no need for her to hear about that from you, or me for that matter. Let’s not cloud the image she has of her husband.”

“Thanks. Come on, Charlie, let’s make a move before darkness descends.”

“I was thinking the same, we need to get a wriggle on and get this young, I’m using the term loosely here, man’s body back to base.”

“Will you do the PM tonight or leave it until the morning?” Katy asked.

“I’ll leave it. I’m shagged.” Patti grinned widely.

Katy and Charlie walked back to their cars and stripped off their protective suits. After depositing them into the black sack at the perimeter of the crime scene, they got back in their respective cars and began their onerous journey, having to turn back the way they had come to take another route to get to the Peters’ house.

Katy was impressed by the pretty pink cottage, the way it seemed to proudly dominate the plot it sat within. The quaint windows were topped off by a newly thatched roof which appeared to be the hair of the home but lacking a parting. Getting out of their vehicles, Katy sighed and said, “Lovely. This would be Mum and Dad’s ideal retirement home, not that they could afford anything as grand as this. It’s huge.”

“Well, their neighbour did say they have five kids. I suppose it has to be on the large side to fit seven people.”

“True enough. Can’t wait to see inside. Shit, what am I saying? I should bloody be preparing myself for the worst undertaking possible, and here I am, admiring the gaff and wondering what the inside looks like. Shame on me.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, it’s human nature.”

“Let’s get on with it. Notebook to hand; let’s hope she can at least give us a clue or two as to who would carry out such a vile act on her husband.”

“We can live in hope, right?” Charlie’s expression was one of doubt, not hope.

“PMA when we go in there, if at all possible.”

Entering the garden via the squat wrought-iron gate, they strode up the narrow path with its display of cottage plants in a spectrum of colours, surrounding the patches of lawn on either side. Katy rang the bell, and they waited for the door to be answered. A blonde girl with pigtails, dressed in dungarees and a checked shirt, answered it a few seconds later.

“Hi, is your mum at home?”

Her eyes narrowed, and suspicion was evident in her tone. “Yeah, she might be. Who are you?”

Katy held up her ID. “We’re from the Met Police, DI Foster and DC Simpkins. Would you mind getting her for me, please?”

“Just a minute. I’m going to have to shut the door, Mum won’t allow me to let strangers into the house.”

“Do what you have to do.”

The door slammed, and the teenager’s shouting filtered out in the distance. The door was reopened a few moments later by a woman in her fifties. She seemed harassed and swept back a clump of hair that had escaped the bun sitting atop her head. She wiped her hands on the tea towel she was holding and frowned.

“Sorry, who are you? My daughter said you’re the police, is that right?”

“It is, Mrs Peters. Would it be possible for us to come in for a moment to speak with you?”

“Now isn’t a good time. We’re all running late. None of us have had dinner yet. My husband is delayed, Lord knows why, he hasn’t had the decency to ring me, but then, that’s nothing new. I’ve not long been in from work myself, and the kids…sorry, you don’t want to hear this crap. What’s this about?”

“Inside would be better.”

She stood behind the oak door and allowed them to enter. “You’ll have to speak to me while I finish preparing the cottage pie in the kitchen.”

“No problem.”

She led the way through the dimly lit hallway out to a large, bright extension at the back.

“This is lovely.” Katy admired the structure which was predominantly made from glass and overlooked a spacious patio filled with an abundance of colourful pots.

“Thank you. It’s a new addition from three years ago. We spend most of our time out here instead of the lounge, which is very dark by comparison. Can I get you a drink?”

Katy smiled. “Thanks, but we’ll decline your kind offer, if you don’t mind.” She glanced over her shoulder to see five children of varying ages, anything from the teenage girl who had answered the door to a small boy of around three or four who was playing with a set of cars on the leather sofa in the TV area of the spectacular room.

“That’s up to you. Do you want to take a seat while I prepare the veggies?” Mrs Peters picked up a bag of carrots and carried them over to the marble-topped island a few feet away. She motioned at the stools tucked under the lip on the other side.

“Thank you. It would be better if you gave us your full attention.” Katy swallowed back the acid burning her throat. She knew that