Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #3: Books 9-12 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [reading in the dark TXT] 📗

Charles and his surname is Ellison. His daughter didn’t have a title yet, so she was plain Katie Ellison. If she had inherited her father’s title, she would have become the Marchioness, Lady Chiddester.”

She nodded for a while and Sarah started to cry quietly again. Dehan reached out and took her hand. “So Katie’s dad is a marquis, and she was pumping him for information for an article—a scoop—that she was planning to sell to a major paper?”

Sarah nodded.

I asked her, “Have you any idea what the article was about? Did she tell you anything at all about it?”

She shook her head. “No. She was very tight-lipped about it. It was a huge adventure for her. Everything was. And she loved being secretive and mysterious. It’s going to be so strange without her around.”

“Have you got a telephone number where we can contact Lord Chiddester?”

She reached in the pocket of her pink shorts and pulled out an iPhone. She looked through her address book and found his private cell phone. Harry made a note and so did Dehan.

While they typed, I asked her, “What about her romantic life, Sarah? Did she have a boyfriend?”

“I don’t know.”

I was surprised and my face told her so. She gave a small laugh. “She had been going out with Mark, but that was nothing serious and they just stopped seeing each other a couple of months ago. She was getting more involved in what she called ‘her work’ and I think they just got bored of each other…”

I could sense there was more, so I asked her, “But…?”

“Well she had gone out on a few evenings recently, a bit more togged up than usual.”

Dehan looked at me. “Togged up?”

“Dressed up, looking smart.”

She nodded, then turned back to Sarah. “So you think she was meeting a guy?”

“Why else would you tog yourself up?”

Dehan shrugged and made a face. “To meet an editor?”

“It’s possible, but it was rather late at night and she was definitely going for sexy rather than motivated journalist. She’d also had a few phone calls that involved a lot of muttering and giggling, and she wouldn’t tell me afterwards who they were from, and when I tried to check her mobile, she was frightfully cross.”

“When was the last time you heard from Katie, Sarah?”

“Day before yesterday. She telephoned to say she was coming home. I was thrilled. I was beginning to miss her. She’d been away almost two weeks.”

“Did she say exactly when she was coming home?”

Sarah thought for a moment. “Well, she said, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ but she didn’t say what time or anything like that.”

Dehan nodded like she understood and asked, “Do you mind if we have a look around in her room?”

She told us she didn’t and we climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. It was clean but in the kind of mess you would expect from a young, single girl sharing a house. We found pretty much what I had expected to find, nothing. Anything of any interest would have been in the apartment. While Harry and Dehan snooped around, I stepped onto the landing, where Sarah was leaning with her back against the wall, crying silently.

I put my hand on her shoulder and she blinked tears at me. “Sorry.”

“Where did she work, Sarah?”

She pointed to the end of the landin,g where there was a small box room with a desk and a computer. I stepped in and had a look around. There was a tall, narrow bookcase against the wall beside the desk. I scanned the titles. There were a few on journalism, mostly relating to libel and how to avoid it, but the bulk of the titles were on political philosophy, the European Union, economic liberalism, Communism, the rise of the Far Right and Islam.

I turned and called, “Harry!” He poked his head out the bedroom door. I gestured with my head at the bookcase. “Have a look. I think we have some idea what the article was about.” He came in and while he was gazing at the titles, I said, “Maybe you should get your forensic IT team to have a look at the computer. Two gets you twenty there’s at least one rough draft on there.”

He nodded and pulled out his cell. Dehan came out of the bedroom, holding a sheet balled up in her hands. She smiled at Sarah. “Have you got a plastic bag I can put this in?”

Sarah looked a little uncertain, but went downstairs to get a bag anyway. Dehan held up the sheet.” Maybe I’m wrong, but I have a feeling this is going to tell us who replaced Mark.”

Harry spoke into his cell. “Yeah, DI Green here, I need a SOCO team at Oakley Gardens, in Chelsea, number seven. Correct, I also need an IT team. I’ll meet them outside.” He hung up and spoke to Sarah. “Do you need us to call anybody? Have you got somebody who can stay with you?”

She gave a wet smile. “It’s OK, I…” She hesitated and looked embarrassed. “I’ve called Mark. He’s devastated. He’s coming over now.”

We stepped out into the early evening. Summer evenings are long and light in England, and dusk was still a couple of hours away. Dehan trotted down the stairs two at a time and rested her ass on the hood of Harry’s car as she watched us come down the stairs. Harry was shaking his head. “We’ll have to muzzle the media. I don’t like where this is going.”

I offered him my right-handed lopsided grin and said, “It’s going where the evidence takes it, remember?”

“Nothing is ever simple with you, is it, John?” He turned to Dehan. “Any other copper picks up a murder and it’s jealousy, or rape or burglary got out of hand.” He jerked his thumb