Death of an Old Git by Andrea Frazer

Author:Andrea Frazer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2010-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

12

Wednesday 15th July – Morning

Falconer decided to leave the car where it was. It was a nice day and he had at least found a parking space. As they passed the teashop, Cassandra Romaine hailed them from the green. She was sitting on the bench by the war memorial, a full wicker shopping basket beside her.

“It’s my husband’s birthday today,” she trilled, “and we’re having drinkies and nibbles in the pub tonight. Do you fancy joining us?”

“No thank you, Mrs Romaine. I hope you have a good time,” called Falconer loudly, then, dropping his voice, he muttered, “After all, you are that good time that’s been had by just about all. You didn’t want to go, did you, Carmichael?”

“No way, sir.”

“Too right. The drinkies may be OK, but as for the nibbles – I’d rather be nibbled by a piranha fish.”

“I don’t think I’d fancy either, but it takes all sorts.”

Was that Carmichael making a joke?

♦

Piers Manningford was in, and waiting for them. Dorothy was working away for a few days, and he was very glad indeed of her absence. Whatever was to be discussed this morning would include part of his life that he would rather his wife was kept in the dark about. So, although it was with a certain amount of trepidation that he opened the door to the summoning knock, he felt fairly sure that his secret was safe, at least for now.

“Come in, Inspector, come in, Sergeant. Go through and sit down. I’ve just made a pot of coffee.”

“Nasty business at the garage this morning, sir.” Falconer fired his opening shot.

“It was, it was. But I’m not ashamed at losing my temper. The man was blatantly trying to rip me off.”

“Perfectly within your rights, sir,” the inspector agreed. “Rather, I was referring to Lowry’s roughshod manner with Miss Cadogan.”

“He’s a guttersnipe. I called round after I got home and the little dog’s fine, just a bit sore, but she was really upset. Said Buster had had a bad enough time with his old master, and it wasn’t fair, him being kicked like that when he’d done nothing wrong.”

“Maybe she’ll have the common sense to steer clear of that young man in the future.”

“Let’s hope so. Now, how do you take your coffee?”

“Black, no sugar,” instructed Falconer.

“White, five sugars,” requested Carmichael.

Five sugars! That explained a lot, thought Falconer. He took a sip from his cup, placed it on the occasional table beside his chair, and went straight for the jugular. “Was Reg Morley trying to blackmail you, Mr Manningford?”

An arc of coffee flew from Piers’ lips and into his lap as he choked in surprise. Mopping furiously at his groin area, he vigorously denied the allegation.

“What would happen if your wife found out about your little romps with Mrs Romaine?”

Manningford stopped mopping. “She’d rip me to ribbons verbally, throw everything not nailed down at my head, pack my bags, throw me out, contact her solicitor and launch extremely acrimonious divorce proceedings. That’s what would happen. There,

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