The Millionaire Murders (Dorset Crime Book 5) by Rachel McLean

Author:Rachel McLean [McLean, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ackroyd Publishing
Published: 2022-01-26T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Ines allowed the uniformed policeman to usher her into the house. He handed over the key and gave her a friendly nod. She tried to smile in return.

“Good,” he said. “You going to be OK?”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

He gave her another thin smile, then hurried back to his car which was parked on the double yellow lines outside Susannah’s house.

Ines closed the front door and leaned against it. She looked through into the living room and shivered. She slipped off her shoes – habit – and padded through, her feet cold on the marble floor.

The living room was just as it had been when she’d been here with Vali on Sunday. If anything, it was cleaner. The surfaces gleamed, the worktops were tidy. The only difference was that the flowers that had been delivered last Friday had wilted. Petals littered the floor beneath the coffee table. She would have to fix that.

Ines’s mind felt foggy. Coming back here after what she’d seen, not to mention what she’d been accused of, filled her with confusion. She went to the sliding doors at the back and put her hand against the glass. Outside, it was raining, gusts of wind making the trees in the garden sway. She swallowed and balled her fist against the glass.

She turned and leaned against the window, looking back towards the hallway. She’d have to go up there eventually; she might as well get it over with.

After a deep breath, she strode out of the living room and towards the stairs. Not allowing herself to pause for even a second, she carried on up the stairs, her movements swift.

At the top, the doors to all the bedrooms were closed. She eyed her own. Had the police been in there?

Probably; they’d arrested her after all. They’d have been looking for evidence. She felt her skin go cold.

She took the few steps towards the doors to Susannah’s bedroom and stopped in front of them. She reached out for the door handle. They’d said something about fingerprints on this handle. There was dust on it, grey and fine, like icing sugar. Ines rubbed her fingers together to try and clean it off.

Go on, she told herself. You can do this.

Even if she wasn’t going to clean the room herself, she’d have to arrange for somebody to do it. Could she make someone do that?

Maybe one of the other girls from the agency would take pity on her. Ines hadn’t exactly made friends there.

But she couldn’t expect another cleaner to go in there if she didn’t have the nerve to do it herself.

She pushed down the door handle, cleared her throat and opened the door.

Inside, the room was empty. The bed had been stripped, the mattress bare. The curtains had been removed and the carpet was clean apart from a dull patch next to the bed.

Ines felt her breath catch in her throat. That was where the man had been.

She moved towards the bed, her breathing ragged. There was a stain at its centre, pale and brown.

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