Dead Jealous by Helen H. Durrant

Author:Helen H. Durrant [Durrant, Helen H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Joffe Books crime, thriller, and mystery
Published: 2017-07-15T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

“She’s not in, love.” Annie Chadwick was out on the deck near Dolly Appleton’s flat, gossiping with another woman. She flashed Ruth a brief smile.

“Any idea where she’s gone?” Ruth asked.

“She’s a funeral to see to.”

The two detectives were about to leave when Annie called to Ruth. She held out a leaflet. “Have one of these! It’s about that trip at the weekend. The one to Shrewsbury that Len told you about. We could do with bumping up the numbers. Make it worth our while getting the minibus.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” Ruth replied, but took the flyer anyway. That was when she noticed Annie’s hand. The sight of the two mangled fingers was quite shocking. “What on earth happened to you?”

“An accident, love. They did their best at the hospital but it looks like I’ve got an infection in them now.”

“What sort of accident?” Ruth took Annie’s hand and examined it. Annie had applied a makeshift dressing, but it was hanging off.

Annie grimaced. “A burn. I’m far too clumsy, that’s my problem. I’ll have to be more careful in future.”

Ruth gently released the hand, and she and Rocco turned to leave. “I’d get that looked at as soon as, if I were you. The health centre’s open. Have a word with Dr Hoyle, he’ll sort you out.”

They got into the lift.

“That looked really bad,” said Rocco quietly.

“It didn’t happen that long ago either. Funny that Frank never mentioned it.” Ruth was frowning.

Rocco looked at her. “What are you thinking?”

“A burnt hand, a beaten man, plus Dolly’s flat nearly gets torched. Heaven knows how many more ‘accidents’ folk around here have met with. I’m wondering if this has anything to do with Hopwood. Remind me when we get back to check if Annie and Frank Chadwick are on that list of Nigel’s.”

* * *

Calladine and Nigel Hallam found Bernie Logan at home in his flat, nursing his sore head.

He greeted them with a scowl. “What d’you want now? I’ve given a statement. There’s nothing else I want to say.”

“This isn’t about the beating,” Calladine told him. “You may not have heard yet but someone took a knife to Sean Hopwood. Not content with that, they shoved him over the rail of the first-floor deck.”

Logan broke into a happy smile. Through swollen eyes, he looked from one detective to the other. “Dead, is he?”

“Yes.” Calladine replied simply, and watched Logan’s smile widen.

“I won’t pretend I’m sorry, but it’s got nowt to do with me, so you can get lost, copper. Shame it didn’t happen sooner, then I might have been spared this little lot.” Logan touched his face.

This was surprisingly candid from a man who must have realised he’d be a number-one suspect.

“What have you been up to today?” Calladine asked.

“I’ve been in bed all morning. Look at the state of me. Do I look like I could take on Hopwood and win? Anyway, our Kyle is asleep in the next room. He’ll confirm it. Poor lad’s had a long, hard night at the Pheasant.

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