Heat Wave by Maureen Jennings

Author:Maureen Jennings
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Murder Mystery
Publisher: Cormorant Books Inc.
Published: 2019-04-08T12:50:01+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

IT WAS A MESSAGE I’d been half expecting, but still I was stunned.

“Mr. Gilmore, I’m so sorry.”

“Except for the one time, she did not recover consciousness.” He halted. “I think the police are going to charge me with homicide.”

“Mr. Gilmore. You must tell them about the letter you received. It might be related to the attack.”

“Possibly you are right, Miss Frayne. Would you be able to bring it here?”

“Of course. I’ll come right away.”

I heard a male voice in the background.

“Oh my God, I believe they’re here. Miss Frayne, will you contact my solicitor? His name is Geoffrey Grier. He’ll be in the files.”

I heard the voice again, then the line went dead.

I immediately rang the hospital. The receptionist wasn’t the same woman I’d talked to before. This one was frosty and formal. I asked if I could speak to Mr. Gilmore. She said she had no way to contact him, as he wasn’t a patient. I said that his wife had just died, something she refused to confirm. It was against hospital policy.

I wanted to yell over the phone, “Where is your humanity?” But I knew that was unfair and I was being irrational. I hung up and went to the filing cabinet to see if indeed we had Mr. Grier’s number.

We did. Mr. Gilmore had recommended him to a divorcing couple who were engaging in a world war about who got what. I hadn’t met him personally, but he had seemed very competent.

He himself answered my ring right away. I explained why I was calling, my words tumbling out. He listened, not saying much one way or another. I filled him in about the first letter, the charming notes I myself had received, and the dead rat.

“And the police have these?”

“The ones that I received. Not the one sent to Mr. Gilmore. The detective is having some tests run on them for fingerprints. Surely this has something to do with the crime? It can’t be a coincidence.”

“That’s up to the police to decide. It’s not my job. I simply need to know on what grounds they’re holding Gilmore.”

“He said they’re going to charge him with the murder of his wife.”

“I realize that, but that’s the charge, not the grounds.” He made a sort of clicking noise with his teeth.

I thought he could have used a little training in cus-tomer relations. A better jail side manner, as it were.

“More than likely they’ve taken him to headquarters until he has a bail hearing.”

“I was just about to go there myself and hand over the first letter to the detective in charge.”

“What is his name?”

“Murdoch. Detective Jack Murdoch.”

“Thank you, Miss Frayne. I shall make a call.”

His voice remained cool, uninvolved.

Before he could hang up, I yelled into the phone, “Wait! You will keep me informed, I hope.”

“If you wish.”

“I wish.”

We hung up. I sat for a moment, face turned up to the fan, trying to cool off. Mr. Gilmore and I maintained a formal relationship, but I was very fond of him.

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