The Hard Way by Duncan Brockwell (electronic book reader .txt) 📗

found out this morning because his wife left several voicemails for me.” He sat with his head hung. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I mean, first my brother’s murdered, then Henry tops himself, and now my second-in-command dies in a car crash. Can anything else bad happen? It’s not like I’ve got enough on my plate.”

Charlotte was taken aback. In all her years, she’d never seen Richard cry, not once. Not even as a kid. He was always the strong, dependable one, whereas Colin was always the fuck-up, the black sheep who could do nothing right. Her place was smack bang in the middle of the two. “I’m so sorry!”

She put her right arm around his shoulder. He sobbed for the first time in front of her, his shoulders shaking. Charlotte didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t get any comfort from his ex-wife, so Charlotte guessed she would have to suffice. “Let it out. It’s been a shit week all right.” Understatement of the year, she thought.

After ten minutes, she let go of him and stepped up to the drinks cabinet. “I think we can both use one of these.” She poured two double shots of whisky, had one herself, and watched her elder brother knock his back. It burned when it slid down her throat.

“Didn’t the detective give anything away?” Richard’s words were bordering slurred. “Why would she need to speak to us again so soon?”

Charlotte shut the cabinet door and picked up Richard’s glass. “She said she has information for us, that’s all. And she’s only expecting to see me, not you. I called you because I thought you’d want to be here.”

“I do, I want to know what’s going on with Colin’s case as much as you.”

She thought he seemed a bit disingenuous. Her brother wasn’t interested in Colin’s case; he was there to find out more about what the detectives had. His mannerisms weren’t right. And he’d shrugged her off when she mentioned he and Henry had something going on, which made her even more suspicious. “Why won’t you tell me?” She sat next to him again, hoping the intimacy might soften him into confessing all.

“Tell you what? There’s nothing to tell.”

Charlotte grew up with him. If Richard didn’t want to elaborate, there was no forcing him. As pig-headed as he was blinkered. She sighed. “Fine! I didn’t hear you talking at Henry’s.” She rose from the sofa and walked over to the window, as a white Peugeot pulled into her driveway. “They’re here!”

As they stepped onto the porch, she opened the door and greeted them, letting them past. “Go on through to the lounge. Richard’s already in there.” She flapped a little, checking the detectives didn’t want refreshments.

“Honestly, Mrs Edwards, we’re fine. We can’t be long, we’re interviewing a suspect this afternoon.” Hayes pulled a notebook and pen out of her pocket.

Charlotte thought Hayes looked so pretty in her suit, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was lovely-looking with a heavy tan. And her partner was attractive, in an Amazonian way, being at least six feet tall, or so Charlotte thought. “So, you said you have news about Colin’s case? And Henry’s?”

“We do, yes. You see, we’ve just come from the mortuary where the pathologist is working on Mr Curtis.” Hayes paused.

“And? He committed–”

“Actually, he didn’t commit suicide after all, Mrs Edwards.”

Confused, Charlotte looked at her brother, and back to Hayes. “Then how? I saw him in the tub, detective. The water was red. He had cuts on his wrists.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but he was murdered.”

Charlotte gasped, placing her palms over her mouth. With shaky hands, she got up and wandered over to the drinks cabinet, pulled the door down and poured herself another whisky. “But how?” She held the glass.

“Oh for God’s sake, Lottie, someone sliced his wrists while he was in the bath to make it look like he committed suicide. It doesn’t take a genius–”

“That’s enough, Mr Fisher!” Miller’s warning was heeded. “We’re here to update you on your brother’s case. And now we know your brother-in-law was murdered, we have questions that need answering.”

Her brother shut up immediately. Charlotte chugged the whisky back, then nodded when Miller asked her if she was ready. “Are you suggesting the same person killed my brother and Henry?” Hayes nodded. “But why? What have they ever done to anyone? They didn’t deserve this.”

“This is what we need your help with, Mrs Edwards. You couldn’t help us much before, so we need you both to dig deep now, okay? Can you think of anyone who might harbour a grudge against your brother and his husband?”

“Or Colin or Henry individually?” Hayes waited with pen at the ready.

Charlotte closed her eyes, like it would somehow magic up a lead for them. “I’m sorry, detectives, I don’t. Richard and I didn’t know Colin all that well, I guess. He wasn’t the easiest man to know, or like for that matter. He was very self-centred, and had an addiction to pretty much everything, which got him in trouble, all the time.”

“Mr Fisher?” Miller regarded her brother. “Do you have anything you want to add? Can you think of anyone your brother or Henry had issues with?”

“What? No, of course not. They were a lovely couple.” He sat back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling. “But you said you’re interviewing a suspect this afternoon, so you must have an idea who’s responsible?”

Noticing an exchange between the two detectives, Charlotte waited.

“One name kept cropping up during our investigation, a name who had a link to the three victims, your brother included, and now Henry.” Hayes paused again.

“Let me guess: Melodi Demirci?”

“It’s looking more and more likely that Demirci might be responsible, not that we can prove it. Without proof, we have nothing. That’s why we’re here. Did you know your brother and Henry had dealings with her?”

“Who told you that? I bet it was Henry’s personal assistant, wasn’t it?”

Charlotte went and sat