A Match Made for Murder by Iona Whishaw (top 10 best books of all time txt) 📗

I find that kind of, yes, odd, because he was essentially a labourer, even if he was supervising a group. They clean up the yard, move track, shovel coal. I can’t imagine these jobs would require them to go anywhere for special training.”

“Yes, I see what you mean, but she said he was away a lot after he got back from Europe. Worth looking into because it’s strange that this time he didn’t tell his wife he was going anywhere. A lost weekend with someone, or going away for good?”

“By the way, sir, Mrs. Watts would like the car back as soon as we are able. It’s been hard for her to get around without it as she lives so far out of town.”

The rain had moved on, and the sky had cleared, bringing with it colder temperatures. Ames bumped down the road to the garage and stopped the car, sitting for a moment looking despondently at the garage doors, which were both shut. The offending word had been covered with an old sheet, but even with the possible sin of her having lied to him about knowing Watts, he could not imagine anyone applying the word to her, or any woman, now that he thought about it. With a sigh, he was about to open the door when a truly disquieting thought hit him like a clap of thunder.

What if Terrell was wrong? What if this did have something to do with Watts’s death? If Tina had lied to him about knowing Watts, could she have something to do with his robbery? What if she was the one he was running off with? He sat, staring at the doors, trying to take this idea in. He checked his apprehension and reminded himself he was a police sergeant. He’d have to take this on board and be very cautious.

He heard banging coming from the inside of the garage as he approached. The small door at the side was ajar. The overhead lights barely seemed to penetrate the obscurity of the inside. When his eyes adjusted, Ames saw Tina hammering at the rim of a tyre and Mr. Van Eyck leaning into the engine of a 1927 half-ton Chevy truck. Van Eyck pulled up at the sound of Ames’s “Hello.”

“Pretty sound, these things. I’ve kept this one on the road for twenty years.” Van Eyck looked for a rag and, not finding it, wiped his hands on his coveralls. “You’re here to take the picture,” he continued. “Tina! The sergeant is here!”

Tina stopped and stood up straight. “Sergeant,” she said by way of greeting.

“Could I have a moment of your time, Miss Van Eyck, outside?”

Something in Ames’s voice made her frown. “I suppose so. Why? I thought you were here to take the picture.”

“Just step outside, please.” He was surprised by how officious he sounded, even to himself.

Outside, Tina watched with her arms crossed, alert now as Ames paused, apparently unable to articulate his first question. She shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, what is it? I have work to do.”

“Yes. Me too. First of all, Barney Watts. He likely did this, but he won’t be doing any more. We found him dead in his car near the Harrop ferry.”

This revelation caused Tina to gasp and lean against the front of the maroon police vehicle. She had blanched and was shaking her head. “Dead? How can he be dead?”

Her pallor startled him and concern outweighed Ames’s determination to be the hard and clinical policeman. “Can I get you some water, Miss Van Eyck?” He looked toward the garage, wondering if he should get her father.

Tina saw where he was looking. “No! For God’s sake, I don’t want him here. I’m fine. I’m just shocked, that’s all. How did he die?”

Ames watched her face. Was she pretending, or was she genuinely shocked? He took a breath. “Miss Van Eyck, I have reason to believe you may have known Barney Watts better than you let on last time I was here. Why didn’t you say?”

Tina turned away, looking toward the water through the now-skeletal trees. “All right. Yes. God, I can’t believe it. I absolutely hated him, but this . . .”

“Miss Van Eyck, where were you yesterday afternoon?” Ames regretted it as soon as he’d said it. It sounded far-fetched, but what if she was the one planning to run off with the dead man? In the next instant he knew how unlikely it was and wondered if he was just getting back at her for lying to him about knowing Watts.

She turned and looked at him furiously. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, stop being such an ass, Sergeant!”

June 1935

Tina sighed happily as she walked down the road to the garage from where the school bus had dropped her off. Last day of school, ever! There had been little rain, and the sun made the grass in the unused fields on either side of the road golden. The line of aspen behind the garage below her was a picture of white bark and green flittering leaves; it was impossible to tell if it was the lake that sparkled or the trees.

She turned at the sound of a car bumping down the road behind her. A customer. She stepped onto the grassy bank on the side to let it go by, but it stopped. A man with black wavy hair leaned out of the window and smiled at her. He wasn’t young, but he was very good looking, she thought. His lips were curled into a confident smile that made her feel flushed. His dark blue eyes seemed to bore into her.

“Need a lift?”

His playful tone gave her an unfamiliar confusion, and she felt embarrassed that it must be visible on her face. “It’s okay. I’m just going home to the garage.”

“Well, that’s where I’m going, so hop in.”

“But it’s just down there,” she said. She tried to look away, but his eyes held