The Detective Frank Miller Mysteries by James Whitworth

Author:James Whitworth [Whitworth, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-08-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

They found Charlotte sitting on a wooden kitchen chair, her handcuffed wrists in her lap. Miller dismissed the constable who had been standing a silent guard and sat down opposite Charlotte.

He put his hand on Charlotte’s knee and looked straight into her eyes.

“I want you to know that I am so sorry about your family. I can’t begin to imagine what that must have been like for you.”

The faintest of smiles flashed across her face and then was gone.

Miller took his hand from Charlotte’s knee and sat back in his chair.

“But why this,” he said waving his arms to signal the whole Downing family. “Why the hell this?”

“You know why,” Charlotte said. Her voice was calm and held a steely coldness. “Those murdering scum were responsible for the deaths of my mother, father and sister.”

“No they weren’t,” Miller said, “and you know that. If anyone was responsible, it was Mabel’s husband and he was killed in the crash.”

“Killed but not murdered. My family was murdered and that decrepit bitch just stood there and expected me to hug her, to tell her it was all right. Tell me if that had been your mother, your father, your sister. What would you have done?”

“But we were going to get married, for Christ’s sake,” Miller said, unable to answer Charlotte’s question.

Charlotte looked up, her dark brown eyes trying to express some emotion that she could not or would not put into words.

“You could have talked to me,” Miller said, his voice breaking. “I could have helped. I could have stopped you.”

“Don’t you understand? I didn’t want to be stopped,” Charlotte said.

“Jesus,” Miller said, his grip weakening. “Why the hell couldn’t you have said something? Have I been so unapproachable?”

Charlotte was silent. She was finding it hard to maintain eye contact with Miller. His eyes – rich in colour and intensity normally – were now savagely bright.

“It wasn’t about you. I never expected you – us – that was never in my plan,” Charlotte said her eyes finally making contact with Miller’s. “I never lied to you.”

Suddenly Miller snapped.

“What the fucking hell do you call it then? You think a manipulative master-plan of omission is some kind of excuse?” he said, spitting the words at Charlotte. “I’m not even talking about the case. I mean, you and me. Didn’t you even care a little? Whatever you planned – did you never waver once? Are you really that cold – are you really capable of such cold blooded disregard?”

Miller’s words sounded detached to his own ears – he knew full well that his own feelings were nothing compared to what had happened over the last few days and yet his sense of perspective was shot to pieces.

“I wanted to tell you,” Charlotte said, “but it was too late. I came to see you last night. I knew you’d be up. I stood there, looking up at your apartment trying to figure out what I could say. But it was too late. Too late.”

“That was you?” Miller said.

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