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

“Darling, I’m so sorry to worry you. It’s not fair. I know. I wasn’t doing anything the least bit dangerous, and I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

Darling harrumphed and took her hand tentatively. “Well, now I’m sorry, too. All I had this morning was a cup of coffee, because I kept thinking you’d turn up and want to eat breakfast.”

“My poor darling. Get dressed, and we’ll eat at once,” Lane said. She linked her fingers through his and felt a jolt of wanting him as they started back to the room. How complicated it was to love someone. “You’re right. I have been so used to just going around doing things on my own without ever having to think of anyone else. I didn’t think about you being worried. I promise I won’t do things that alarm you like this anymore.”

Darling closed the door and pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Even as he succumbed, he smiled inwardly. He doubted she could ever really keep such a promise.

Feeling the relief of their first fight being behind them, they sat at their favourite table. It had a sense of privacy she particularly wanted at this moment.

Lane leaned toward him. “Look, I saw Raúl this morning, as it happens, and he told me something that might be important.”

“Who the devil is Raúl?”

“Don’t be silly. You remember, the cab driver, Chela’s brother.”

“So you went somewhere in a cab.”

“Sort of. Yes. Look. I’ll just say I asked Raúl to help me get poor Priscilla out of danger. It was perfectly safe. We drove her to the airport in Phoenix.”

“You what?”

“It was really nothing. A quick drive there, onto a plane, and off to friends.”

“Oh my God,” Darling said, shaking his head.

“And here’s what’s important,” Lane pressed on, “he told me Chela realized she recognized the man Meg Holden keeps meeting. Well, one of them. The older one. His mug shot was in the newspaper when he was arrested a couple of weeks ago. He couldn’t remember the name she told him, but it started with a G.”

Darling looked up sharply. “Griffin, I wonder? When I was at the police station that first day, I met Sergeant Martinez, and Galloway was giving him a bit of a dressing down over losing some notes on the case. He told me later it would be big for his career if he brought Griffin down. He implied that Jimmy Griffin was a local mobster. I must say, having seen Martinez at work here on the Renwick case, I can’t fully subscribe to Galloway’s comments on his incompetence. But of course, I’ve learned quite enough about Galloway now to dislike his views on practically everything.”

Lane drank her iced tea. “By the way, when I saw Priscilla, she handed me a roll of film. She said our honeymoon photo was on it, but she also said there was something she was going to use against Paul.”

Darling frowned. “Against Galloway? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. But I feel like Priscilla entrusted me with it, wanted to make sure we got it developed.”

Darling was silent. “My hope of a carefree remainder to our honeymoon is fading fast. What do you propose to do?”

“I propose to take it to the front desk.”

“And if there are compromising pictures of Galloway?”

“Priscilla won’t have been taking pictures of him in the altogether or with other women. I’m going to go out on a limb . . .”

“Your favourite perch,” he commented.

“Haha. I bet these are pictures taken in social situations. But I do take your point. I could contact Raúl. He’ll be discreet and get them done by someone he knows. Now then, about Meg: I wonder if Griffin is the man we saw her with on the street. The one who was pulling her about. You do agree with me that the plot thickens.”

“What plot would that be?” asked Darling cautiously.

“The Meg Holden plot. If she’s out there meeting a gangster, and she’s standing next to poor Renwick when he’s felled, it seems to me two and two do add up.”

“The trouble is, they add up to five,” Darling pointed out. “Or some odder number, if we count your behaviour today. You need a connection between the gangster and Renwick. And you have two people in the slammer who are the most likely to be involved: his nearest and dearest.”

Lane sank back. “Of course. You’re right, as usual. But it is still singular, if you ask me.”

“Well, no one is asking you. But it’s certainly worth mentioning to Martinez or, under normal circumstances, I would say Galloway.”

Lunch concluded, and with Darling in a palpably better frame of mind, Lane thought it might be time to get serious about finding a present to take back to Angela. She ought to look again at the earrings she had on hold at the hotel gift shop and then find other shops in town to see what else was on offer. She had left Darling with the business of phoning Martinez. She tried not to think about Paul Galloway and what would happen when he found out his wife was gone, which he most assuredly would, sooner or later. As she was leaving the gift shop, she found Chela waiting for her, looking worried.

“Hello, is anything the matter?” Lane asked, following Chela down the hall to the cleaning area.

“I saw him again. The young one, I mean. He came to the back gate, but he didn’t come in, he just waited. Then Mrs. Holden turned up, and they were talking so I could hear everything.” Chela glanced at the door, as if fearful that someone would come out.

“Was something said that worried you?”

“They were kind of fighting, at least I thought so at first, but then he was trying to comfort her and tell her everything would be all right. But she kept saying she was frightened, that she didn’t trust him. She said he would stop at nothing if