Web of Lies, Sally Rigby [list of e readers .TXT] 📗

wasn’t using their names, he only ever called them the boys or the children. Never the twins. Surely that’s got to mean something.’

That piqued his interest. Could Sarah be right about this? One questionable thing in respect of the note could be explained. But two? Had there been something suspicious about Donald’s death?

‘You have to understand, I can’t interfere in a police investigation especially as I’m no longer a serving officer.’

‘I’m not asking you to do it as a police officer, but as a civilian.’

‘Investigations like this are delicate and complicated, Sarah. I haven’t worked suspicious death cases, and I’m not a private investigator.’

Nor did he have any desire to be one.

‘Surely you’ve got contacts you could use. I just want to know whether he committed suicide. Please, Sebastian. I need somebody to listen to me. You’re family, and I thought out of everybody you’d understand.’

Her pleading eyes locked with his and tugged at his heart. He wasn’t normally swayed by emotion, but after everything she’d been through, how could he let her down? And there certainly were some unanswered questions.

‘Okay, I’ll take a look. I’ll need to check all of Donald’s files. Do you have them here?’

‘Everything’s in his study, including his laptop which the FCA also returned.’

‘Is it password-protected?’

‘Yes, but I know his passwords. He kept them in a notebook in his office. Hardly secure, I know, but he said he didn’t have the capacity to remember them. Not everyone can have your memory.’

‘It’s overrated,’ he said, shrugging. ‘You get back to your guests and I’ll return first thing in the morning. I don’t want you to get your hopes up because I might find nothing to indicate that the police and coroner were wrong.’

Chapter 4

5 May

Detective Constable Lucinda Bird tore into the police station car park in her old Mini and came to a screeching halt in one of the empty bays. She was half an hour late for work, which meant the morning briefing would have already started and she’d be getting her arse kicked. Again.

She grabbed her bag and jacket from the passenger seat and charged into the station, a 1960s three-storey building in Fairfield Road, in a mainly residential area which, in her opinion, was way past its sell-by date. Why couldn’t they have a brand new, swanky building close to the town centre and all of her favourite cafés?

‘Late again, Birdie,’ the desk sergeant called out as she passed him.

‘Oh, shut up,’ she muttered, making sure he didn’t hear as he was her superior officer, and wasn’t averse to calling her out on her behaviour.

She ran along the corridor until she reached the CID office. The door was open, and she tiptoed in hoping no one would notice. She could pretend she’d been at the back of the room the whole time, if anyone asked. Although as there were only five of them in the team, not counting Sarge, she doubted she’d be able to get away with it.

‘You decided to grace us with your presence today, then,’ Sergeant Jack Weston said, arching an eyebrow.

Crap. Now she was for it.

‘I’m sorry, Sarge. The traffic was ridiculous this morning,’ she lied pitifully, knowing that he’d see through her excuse. This was Market Harborough. There was no such thing as a rush hour, just a rush five minutes.

‘Sit down. I’m giving out today’s duties.’

She hurried over to her desk and pulled out a chair next to another DC, Neil Branch, aka Twiggy, and dropped down on it, dragging in some much needed breaths. She glanced around at everyone else in the room. Tiny, Rambo and Sparkle. All their eyes were on her, too. They’d no doubt have something to say once he’d finished. Being the youngest on the team meant they didn’t hold back on the teasing. Not that it bothered her. She’d been a member of the team for two years now and was well able to give as good as she got.

She was silent while Sarge continued until, finally, he stared in her direction.

‘Birdie, you’re on desk duty.’

He’d got to be kidding. How long did he intend to make her suffer for one tiny mistake?

‘Come on, Sarge. You can’t be serious. Not still.’

‘I had been thinking of sending you out today, but you were late. Again. It’s desk duty for you for the foreseeable future. You need to pull your socks up. And I don’t want to hear any complaints, or I’ll make sure you’re stuck in here until the end of the year, at the very least.’

Ten days ago, she’d had an accident in the police car she was driving. It was totally her fault, she hadn’t been paying attention. She’d got so many things on her mind that she’d run into a skip on the side of the road, beside a construction site. It had totally wrecked the car and landed her in a load of trouble.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t told the truth, though. She could’ve said she was swerving to miss a car or cyclist. But no, she’d told Sarge exactly what had happened and was now being punished for it. If only she’d lied, she wouldn’t have found herself in this crap situation. It wasn’t fair if Sarge added being late today as a reason for keeping her chained to her desk.

‘I’m fed up having to answer the phone and do all the filing. Why can’t I go out with Twiggy today?’

‘Because I said not. If you want to get back to proper duties, then start acting responsibly. And that means arriving at work on time and not looking like you had a skinful last night and are nursing a hangover.’

How did he know? She’d piled on the make-up this morning, being particularly heavy with the under-eye concealer.

‘Sorry, Sarge. I promise to be on time tomorrow.’ She made a cross sign over her heart, to emphasise she’d meant it. Not that he’d take any notice. Her timekeeping had always been poor, despite her best intentions.

He’d been right