MURDER IS SKIN DEEP, M.G. Cole [i can read with my eyes shut TXT] 📗

“They’re my things. I told you I was moving. Rebecca is taking them to Portugal and as soon as I have my passport, Ethan and I will join her.”

“That’s a very generous thing for a woman like her to do, especially as her ex-husband was sleeping with you. Why would she humour you? She’s a person you admit to not knowing very well.”

Terri looked at Garrick as if he’d announced he was the Pope. “She’s a nice person. But she’s not doing it for me. She’s doing it for Ethan’s father.”

Now it was Garrick’s turn to look confused. “Derek?”

“Oscar!” She looked between Garrick and Chib. “Oscar is Ethan’s father.”

Garrick lolled back in his seat, scrambling to insert this new piece of knowledge into the puzzle. “You took a paternity test. You said Ethan was Derek’s child.”

“Of course I did. I loved Derek. Oscar was a stupid one-night stand. We were drunk. I was pissed off with Derek. It was before Oscar and Rebecca had got together, so she understands. Derek was always shooting blanks. As soon as he found out I was pregnant, he was delighted. But when he discovered the truth… he didn’t want to know me. At least Oscar was a gentleman. And now he wants what’s best for his son.”

“And a new life for you.”

Garrick had assumed that Rebecca’s comment about Derek being unable to father children had been nothing more than spite, not biological fact.

Chib indicated to the photo. “Where are the bags? They were not in Rebecca’s Airbnb or her car. And you arrived from London without them. And an empty one was found in your apartment. Why would Stanley Matthews have your possessions?”

“Because Oscar had asked Stan to look after me. I don’t have a car or storage. He has a whole dealership. That’s where my boxes are going.”

Garrick was once again feeling that his list of suspects was dwindling. Rebecca Ellis had been freed. They had nothing to hold Terri on, and it was all down to one man who had hanged himself.

While Chib dealt with releasing Terri Cordy, Garrick stood in front of the evidence wall. The nameless corpse had to be linked to Huw Crawford in an attempt to impersonate Derek Fraser, a man he hated because of their love feud over Terri and the child. A child fathered by Oscar Benjamin. A man with a grudge against Fraser.

For whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, the impersonation had gone wrong, so was the attempt at stealing the artwork a desperate last-minute bid? Had Mark Kline-Watson – a man desperate for the money - threatened to expose them, forcing Huw to silence him? Had Huw’s actions been encouraged by Oscar Benjamin? Or an act of desperation because Oscar had abandoned him, Terri, and Rebecca, taking the stolen cash with him?

And the security truck heist… Garrick was still mulling that. Was it simply a case of opportunity? Two separate crimes that were too tempting for the same crooks.

Then there was the possibility that Huw was the mysterious Hoy…

The harsh sound of coins jangling in a cup close to his ear broke him from his reverie. Fanta was holding a mug sporting the Kent Police crest. She shook it again. By the sound of it, there was only a bit of loose change inside.

“I’m collecting for Harry!” She shoved the mug under Garrick’s nose.

“Why? He’s getting sick pay.”

Fanta’s eyes widened in protest. “Sir! That’s a horrible thing to say. He was injured in the line of duty!”

Garrick felt the pain in his buttock twinge. That made two of them.

“As our commanding officer, you’re expected to set the bar high. Not tight.”

“Oh, really? How much did Superintendent Drury contribute?”

Fanta sheepishly lowered the cup. “I wanted her to be awed by the rest of the team’s generosity.”

Garrick angled the cup down and counted the contents. “One-pound-forty? What treasures were you planning to buy him?”

“I’ve just started.”

Garrick took his wallet from his pocket and pulled out his debit card. “Where should I swipe this?”

Fanta glowered at him and slammed the cup on a table near the evidence board. “I shall leave this here so everybody can make a donation.”

Garrick put his card away. “How about doing something really useful? Terri Cordy claims that her baby’s father is Oscar Benjamin, not Fraser. Fraser took a paternity test. See what’s on file.”

Eighty minutes later, she returned with the news that Rebecca Ellis had just checked in at Gatwick Airport. She was leaving in a hurry.

She also had not one, but two shocking answers to Garrick’s query.

And like that, the entire case cracked open, revealing the predator within.

28

“Nobody has come in, and he hasn’t left,” said the bored officer sat in the patrol car at the end of Fraser’s drive.

As Garrick and Chib approached, they could see him playing a game on his phone. The copper had even flinched when they knocked on his window, so his observational skills were questionable.

“When was the last time you saw him?” Garrick noticed there was a small mailbox bolted onto the wall just outside the gate.

“About an hour ago he came out and offered me a cuppa. He’s been good at doing that for everyone.”

“And he’s had no visitors?” The copper shook his head.

Chib followed Garrick up the driveway. The living room lights were on, but all seemed quiet. She rang the bell as Garrick peered through the windows. The curtains were drawn.

“Maybe he’s asleep?” Chib said after thumbing the doorbell for the third time.

Garrick motioned for her to follow him to the plyboard covering the broken patio window. He wedged his fingers against the lip of a vertical slat and heaved. Only when he put his full bodyweight into it did the wood give as nails pried free.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m concerned that he could be on the floor, bleeding to death!”

He heaved again. The wood cracked so loudly that they were both surprised when the cop on guard duty didn’t come running. Garrick rested the freed six-foot wooden panel against the other