Murder In Chianti by T. A. Williams

Author:T. A. Williams [Williams, T. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

11

MONDAY NIGHT AND TUESDAY MORNING

Oscar and I spent a lot of time that night discussing what I should do – well, all right, I did the discussing while he lay there and listened. At the very least I knew I owed Helen an apology for going off like that, but I couldn’t get Virgilio’s suggestion out of my head. Dan Armstrong, Private Detective, sounded like something out of a Raymond Chandler crime noir paperback from the thirties, but I had to admit that it had a certain ring to it.

‘I can see us now, Oscar, solving crimes like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes. You can be Doctor Watson.’ I glanced down at him, lying stretched out on the floor at my feet. ‘Or would you rather be the Hound of the Baskervilles? Are you listening, Oscar? Sometimes I wonder why I waste my breath telling you things. What do you think of that?’ Hearing his name mentioned, he opened one eye, checked that no food was on offer and subsided again with a heartfelt sigh. Undeterred by his lack of interest, I carried on fantasising. ‘Me in my trench coat and one of those fedora hats, you with a little barrel hanging from your collar like a St Bernard. Only your barrel would be full of crime-solving gadgets, rather than brandy. Ah, yes, I can see us now…’

My fantasy was interrupted by my phone. As I answered, I saw that the time was almost midnight and I was surprised – and immediately concerned – to see that it was Tricia, not Virgilio, calling at this hour.

‘Hi, sweetheart, everything all right?’

‘I’m fine, thanks, Dad. I’ve left Mum in the room. She was feeling tired after all the sightseeing so she’s already in bed. I told her I wanted a drink so I could get away to call you.’

‘How’s she doing? I feel terrible about having had to rush off like I did. If I tell you that it was to prevent a young woman your age from being murdered, would that make things better?’

‘Oh, Dad, we both know you wouldn’t have gone off if it hadn’t been important. Mum was saying exactly the same thing over dinner. It’s not what you had to do, it’s the fact that you had to do it that’s the problem. She told me she’s always known she took second place in your life and last night was the proof.’ Before I could say anything, she adopted a more positive tone. ‘But it’s not all bad, Dad. She came over here feeling seriously confused. Had she made the biggest mistake of her life when she left you? Should she try again? Well, she now knows she was right – for her, not necessarily for you and me – and it’s sort of given her some closure.’

I couldn’t blame Helen. Hadn’t I just been dreaming of being a Philip Marlowe character or something out of a Conan Doyle mystery, when I should have been trying to decide on the correct wording for an apology to my ex-wife? She was right.

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