Class Act by Ged Gillmore

Author:Ged Gillmore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: murder mystery series, detective mysteries, hardboiled noir, british detective, sleuth, australian crime fiction, noir, amateur
Publisher: deGrevilo Publishing
Published: 2017-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

26.

Murdoch washed and dried all the bed linen he owned, folded it into piles and carried it up to the small bedroom at the very top of the house. It was an awkward space of sharp angles, the only window a skylight that whistled in the wind. He poured bleach into a bucket of water and wiped down the metal of the bed, then the window sill and the skirting boards. Back in the kitchen he found a metal tray and carried up cough mixture, a thermometer and an old metal cup for water. He tucked the sheets in as tightly as he could and added extra blankets. Climbed in and slept deeply, five senses persuaded he was somewhere safe.

He’d disconnected his doorbell so he had no way of knowing if Davie visited again but, after two days of sleep interrupted only by food, the bathroom and slow reading, he gave in to temptation and checked his phone. Four missed calls: three of them from Amanda; the six from Davie didn’t count. Murdoch dialled Amanda’s number and she answered immediately, her voice noticeably colder than when they’d said goodbye at the races. He apologised for not being in touch, told her he’d been unwell.

‘Oh. So not working on the case then?’

‘Not these last few days, no.’

‘It’s just I got an invoice from your partner, Davie Simms.’

‘Well, we have both been working on it, darlin’, you know that. Just not in the last few days.’

He pulled himself upright, wincing at the pain and swearing under his breath. Above the rain-blurred skylight a tree moved with the wind.

‘You know,’ said Amanda, ‘I was thinking we’d have seen some progress by now. I’m keen not to throw good money after bad.’

‘Yeah, well, everything’s always a good idea until you have to pay for it.’

He was still groggy from sleep and his face was hurting; it came out harsher than he’d meant it to. Amanda’s sigh floated down the phone to him.

‘Well, if that’s your attitude, Bill, maybe I should stop paying completely? Maybe we should call the whole thing off?’

‘No! I mean, no, don’t do that, love. Trust me, I’m not exactly enjoying the case either.’

‘What’s not to enjoy? Parties, races, I see you’re making lots of new friends. Angus thinks you’re a gem; hardly a glowing recommendation.’

‘You sound angry.’

‘I’m not angry. Believe me, if I was angry you’d know it. I’m just frustrated with the apparent lack of progress. I’m frustrated I’ve got someone asking me for money and I don’t quite know what for.’

‘There has been progress.’

‘Really. What?’

Murdoch hesitated, knowing he had to give her something. He told her to hang up, took a photograph of himself and texted it to her. Thirty seconds and the phone rang again.

‘Oh my God, Bill, are you all right? What happened to you?’

Which almost made it all worthwhile. He told her he was fine, it looked worse than it was. Let her contradict him, let her make him promise to be more careful, let her apologise: she had such a short fuse when it came to money.

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