Web of Lies by Sally Rigby (classic novels for teens txt) 📗

and if it doesn’t turn out to be linked to Witherspoon’s suicide, then it doesn’t matter.’

‘Okay, you can take it, but for now it’s going to be classed as a mugging, unless we discover otherwise. We’re certainly not going to open up a murder investigation on such flimsy evidence, especially as the death has already been investigated.’

‘Got it. I’ll interview Clifford this morning, he’s at Leicester Royal Infirmary. If that’s okay?’ she added as an afterthought.

‘Get a statement and we’ll work from there.’

‘Thanks, Sarge.’

She returned to her desk, happy to be back on the job, even though she thought Sarge should’ve been more receptive to her theory.

She looked again at the CCTV footage of the two men, paying particular attention to their clothes. They both wore hoodies and dark trousers, and one was wearing gloves. They didn’t look like drugged up kids. Neither of them had their face captured on the camera. Was that a deliberate ploy? Had they checked in advance the camera angles and where they were placed? Being a small town, they didn’t have that many, and they were easy to evade, unlike in the big cities.

She downloaded the footage of them turning into the street onto her phone to show Seb when she saw him later.

Surely if it was just a mugging, they’d have asked him to hand over his wallet and not wait until they’d beaten him to a pulp before taking it.

And if it wasn’t a mugging, then what was it? Why had he been chosen?

If it was to do with Witherspoon, was she at risk, too? No one had come after her. Yet.

Chapter 24

16 May

At nine-thirty Birdie grabbed her bag from the back of the chair and slipped on her pink and white striped thick knitted cardigan. There had been a nip in the air when she’d arrived earlier, and it would keep her warm.

‘Where are you going? If it’s to get some breakfast, get me a sausage roll. I’ll pay you when you get back,’ Twiggy said, as she marched past his desk.

‘I thought you were meant to be on a diet? I’ll tell Evie,’ she threatened, referring to his wife, and grinning in his direction.

‘You can laugh, but it’s driving me mad. The woman’s emptied the house of anything decent to eat. No cakes. No biscuits. No crisps. I’m not even allowed brown sauce on my dinner. Can you believe it? A meal isn’t a meal unless it’s smothered in sauce. She says it’s got sugar in it. But I don’t know where. It doesn’t taste sweet. Go on. Get me a sausage roll, please. I’ll put in a good word with Sarge to get you back out there.’

‘I don’t need your help, thanks. I’m off to the hospital to take a statement from Sebastian Clifford. He got attacked last night in the town centre.’

He stared at her a broad grin on his face ‘Good for you. What made Sarge change his mind? He’d seemed so determined to make you suffer a while longer.’

‘He hadn’t intended to, that was for sure. He’s only letting me go because I know Clifford as we’ve been working together on a case.’

Crap. She hadn’t meant to tell him about it just yet. Was he going to be upset that she’d kept it from him?

‘What case and why don’t I know about it? We’re meant to be partners. When did Sarge give it to you?’ His jaw clenched as he stared daggers at Birdie.

Twiggy was easy-going and was seldom annoyed, but this had clearly wound him up.

‘That’s the whole point. He didn’t know about it because I was doing it on the side. I didn’t want to involve you, in case Sarge found out, and then we’d both be in trouble.’

‘What’s the case?’ Twiggy asked, his jaw relaxing and his usual expression returning.

‘We’ve been investigating the suicide of Donald Witherspoon.’

‘Ha. So that’s why you wanted to know about the crime scene. All that crap about filing and coming across it. And I fell for it.’ He smacked his forehead. ‘I’m such an idiot.’

She felt the heat rush up her cheeks. Damn. She hated blushing. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to deceive you. Anyway, long story short, we looked into it, didn’t come across anything to make us think the verdict was wrong, and then last night he was attacked. Sarge is classing it as a mugging, but I’m not so sure, and neither is Seb. We believe it could have been a warning for him to back off.’

‘Who is this guy and how come he’s investigating a case? Is he a PI?’

‘He used to be a DI at the Met, and he’s doing it for his cousin, who was Witherspoon’s wife. He’s a good guy, even if he is an aristocrat.’

‘A what?’ Twiggy spluttered.

‘He’s the son of a viscount, but he’s not inheriting the title because he isn’t the eldest son. But that doesn’t matter. All you need to know is he was attacked last night and Sarge is letting me work the case.’

‘Do you want me to go with you?’

His help might be useful, but she wasn’t sure Seb would want anyone else involved. He’d already made it clear that he liked working alone and was only letting her help because he’d had no other option at the time.

‘Thanks, but it’s better if I go alone. He was badly beaten and won’t be up to both of us visiting,’ she said, using that as an excuse.

‘Tell me more about your enquiry into Witherspoon.’

‘I haven’t got time now. We’ll catch up later.’ She didn’t want to go into too much detail, until she knew more about what had actually happened and how it linked to Donald’s death … if it actually did.

‘I’m here if you need me.’

‘Sarge won’t like that. Or have you now become an anarchist?’ She smirked.

‘Go.’ He pointed at the door. ‘But if you do need help, let me know. You know, you can’t just don’t go wading in single-handedly. If Clifford’s incapacitated,