Murder in Just Cause (Doyle and Acton Scotland Yard Series #9) by Anne Cleeland

Author:Anne Cleeland [Anne Cleeland]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-23T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

He was listed as out-of-town and unavailable this weekend. It was a blow, and completely unexpected.

It was the week-end, and Doyle and Acton were driving out to Trestles, Acton’s ancestral estate, which was located a few hours outside London. Doyle was not necessarily fond of the place—being as it was chock full of ghosts and viperous relatives—but she always enjoyed the drive out; there was something deeply pleasing about spending time alone with her husband, with nothing to do except look at the countryside as they passed through. On this occasion, of course, they had Edward in his car-seat but—because a car-ride was a mighty sleep-inducer—he’d promptly conked out.

She’d decided to put off telling Acton about the task force until this drive, because they’d have some uninterrupted time to discuss it. That, and he’d have to concentrate on the road and hopefully be less inclined to give her the back of his hand.

“I have to tell you somethin’, Michael, and I’m that worried you’ll be unhappy.”

“You are pregnant,” he guessed. “And I am not unhappy.”

“That’s very sweet, Michael, but that’s not it.”

There was a pause. “Shall I keep guessing?” he asked.

“No—I’m workin’ up my nerve. It’s about my task-force—I had the first meetin’ yesterday.” She took a breath. “I think—I think they’re lookin’ to—lookin’ to catch me at my—my whatever-it-is.” She gritted her teeth, because it was always very difficult for her to speak of her perceptive abilities aloud—she wasn’t supposed to, which only went to show you that she should follow directions.

No, she contradicted herself immediately; a lot of good’s been done because I told Acton about it. I’ve got to remember that, and remember that there’s a reason I trusted him with it in the first place.

He reached to take her hand. “Why do you think this?”

She pressed her lips together because there was nothin’ for it. “Mainly because Gabriel gave me the head’s-up. He’s feelin’ guilty, because he’s the one who suspicioned about it to the fair Tasza, and now the cat’s out of the bag, so to speak.”

There was a small silence. “Perhaps you should start at the beginning.”

Why, he already knows about this, she thought in astonishment—I am telling the man nothing he doesn’t already know. This shouldn’t be a surprise, of course—Acton’s being Acton—but he hadn’t been his finger-in-every-pie self lately, and so she could be forgiven for thinking that this one had slipped by him. Let this be a lesson—nothing slips by the illustrious Chief Inspector.

Feeling cautiously optimistic, she offered, “I didn’t say anythin’ about it to Gabriel, Michael—I promise. I warned him about an ambush, once, and—well, I guess he got the idea all on his own.”

“Please don’t worry, Kathleen. Tell me what you know, if you please.”

But Doyle knew her husband only too well, and stubbornly continued, “I tried to explain it away—with Gabriel, I mean—and I truly think he bought it. So now he’s that sorry he started the whole mare’s nest.” Unspoken was the sure knowledge that Gabriel

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