Horowitz, Anthony - The Word Is Murder by Horowitz Anthony

Author:Horowitz, Anthony [Horowitz, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780896847
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2017-08-23T18:30:00+00:00

Thirteen

Dead Man’s Shoes

‘Tony? Are you all right?’

Hawthorne was leaning over me, filling my vision. He didn’t look concerned. If anything, he was puzzled, as if it was a strange thing to do, to faint after seeing a hideously mutilated and still-bleeding corpse.

I wasn’t all right. I’d hit my head on Damian Cowper’s warehouse-style floor and I felt sick. The smell of blood was still in my nostrils and I was afraid that I might have tumbled into it. Grimacing, I felt around me. The floorboards were dry.

‘Can you help me up?’ I said.

‘Sure.’ He hesitated, then reached down and seized my arm, pulling me to my feet. Why the hesitation? Here was a moment of insight. In all the time I had known him, during this investigation and while he had helped me with my research, there had never been any physical contact between us. We had never so much as shaken hands. In fact, now that I thought about it, I had never seen him come into physical contact with anyone. Was he a germophobe? Or was he simply antisocial? It was another mystery for me to solve.

I sat down in one of the leather armchairs, away from the body and the blood.

‘Do you want some water?’ he asked.

‘No. I’m OK.’

‘You’re not going to throw up, are you? It’s just that we have to protect the crime area.’

‘I’m not going to throw up.’

He nodded. ‘It’s not very nice, seeing a dead body. And I can tell you this is about as bad as it gets.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve seen decapitations, people with their eyes gouged out—’

‘Thanks!’ I could feel the nausea rising. I took a breath.

‘Someone certainly didn’t like Damian Cowper,’ he said.

‘I don’t get it,’ I said. I thought of what Grace had told us after the funeral. ‘This was planned, wasn’t it? Someone put the music player in the coffin because they knew it would get to Damian. They wanted to drive him away so he’d be on his own. But why him? If this is all about the accident in Deal, he can hardly take the blame. He wasn’t even in the car.’

‘You’ve got a point.’

I tried to think it through. A woman drives a car recklessly and kills a child. Ten years later, she is punished. But why extend that to her son? Could there be some biblical reason: an eye for an eye? That made no sense. Diana Cowper was already dead. If someone had wanted to use her son to hurt her, they would have killed him first.

‘His mother didn’t go to the police at first, because she was trying to protect him,’ I mused. ‘That was the reason why she drove away. Maybe it was enough to make him responsible.’

Hawthorne thought for a moment in silence – but not about what I’d said. ‘I’ve got to leave you for a minute,’ he said. ‘I’ve already called 999. But I’ve got to check the flat.’

‘Go ahead.’

Funnily enough, it was something I remembered from our time working on Injustice.

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