Read Online A Shroud for Delilah (DCI Webb Mystery Book 1) by Anthea Fraser - Free Book Online
Authors: Anthea Fraser
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numbly. It was typical of Michael that he had in a few hours completely adjusted to the situation over which she had agonized for months. It was a challenge, an opening up of new directions, and Michael thrived on both. She suspected that, having accepted the position, he was beginning to enjoy it. But would she?
She said, ‘What will you tell everyone? The family, and so on?’
‘The truth. That we’re going through a sticky patch and decided on a trial separation. Nothing irrevocable, just a waiting period.’
‘The family’ was all on Michael’s side. Kate had been the only child of only children, and both her parents were dead. She’d had no mother to run home to, which, she thought ruefully, was no doubt why she’d turned to Madge.
‘In the meantime,’ Michael continued, ‘I’ll speak to Keith about arranging an allowance.’
Kate said stiffly, ‘There’s no need. Your parents’ policy covers Josh’s fees and I have my salary.’
‘There’s the rent for this place for a start, and of course you must have maintenance. We’ll do things according to the book.’
It was no use arguing once Michael had made up his mind. Ten years of marriage had certainly taught her that. Half an hour later, with everything apparently cut and dried between them, he took his leave. But Kate stood where he had left her for a long time after the sound of his footsteps and the bang of the street door had faded into silence.
CHAPTER 7
Although he wasn’t aware of it, Webb followed Michael’s car back to Shillingham. It had been an eventful but frustrating week; hours and hours of sifting evidence, comparing statements, checking, questioning, checking again. Two things had developed from the requested phone call to the Assistant Chief Constable. First, as he’d anticipated, the second murder had stepped up official concern and Chief Superintendent Fleming was assigned to the case. Secondly, the centre of operations had been moved from Shillingham to Headquarters at Stonebridge, which was equidistant from both crimes. And, Webb thought wryly, more convenient for the Chief Superintendent.
Not that he had anything against Fleming. He’d have preferred to run the show himself and knew he was capable of it, but higher authority had to be shown in action. And there was grim satisfaction in the fact that, despite the increased backup, Fleming had so far got no further with the second murder than he himself had with the first. The Delilah killer had seemingly appeared out of the blue, made his strike, and disappeared ‘leaving no trace behind.’
Not strictly true, of course, Webb conceded, dipping his headlights for an approaching car. Forensic would certainly dispute it, poring over their infinitesimal samples. But they didn’t add up to much. The first victim had some white fibres under her fingernails, most probably from the murderer’s gloves. The second only had minute scraps of material from the armchair on which, in her death throes, her fingers had tightened. For the rest, there were no footprints, no conveniently dropped button or handkerchief, nothing but a few dried pine-needles trodden into the carpet — and even they hadn’t been present at the second crime.
One good thing about Fleming coming in was that, barring fresh developments, he was himself released for what remained of the weekend. ‘You look shattered, Dave,’ the Chief Superintendent had remarked. ‘Better knock off till Monday and come back to it fresh. We’ll contact you if we need you.’
He’d hardly been in the flat all week, reaching it at varying hours of the late evening or early morning only to fall into exhausted sleep. Now, with a few hours in hand, he’d better make his peace with Hannah. Hell, it was almost like being married again.
On an impulse he stopped at a roadside flower stall and bought a bunch of dahlias, spiky and wet with the day’s rain. They might ease the way. But dammit, she’d had no right to
She said, ‘What will you tell everyone? The family, and so on?’
‘The truth. That we’re going through a sticky patch and decided on a trial separation. Nothing irrevocable, just a waiting period.’
‘The family’ was all on Michael’s side. Kate had been the only child of only children, and both her parents were dead. She’d had no mother to run home to, which, she thought ruefully, was no doubt why she’d turned to Madge.
‘In the meantime,’ Michael continued, ‘I’ll speak to Keith about arranging an allowance.’
Kate said stiffly, ‘There’s no need. Your parents’ policy covers Josh’s fees and I have my salary.’
‘There’s the rent for this place for a start, and of course you must have maintenance. We’ll do things according to the book.’
It was no use arguing once Michael had made up his mind. Ten years of marriage had certainly taught her that. Half an hour later, with everything apparently cut and dried between them, he took his leave. But Kate stood where he had left her for a long time after the sound of his footsteps and the bang of the street door had faded into silence.
CHAPTER 7
Although he wasn’t aware of it, Webb followed Michael’s car back to Shillingham. It had been an eventful but frustrating week; hours and hours of sifting evidence, comparing statements, checking, questioning, checking again. Two things had developed from the requested phone call to the Assistant Chief Constable. First, as he’d anticipated, the second murder had stepped up official concern and Chief Superintendent Fleming was assigned to the case. Secondly, the centre of operations had been moved from Shillingham to Headquarters at Stonebridge, which was equidistant from both crimes. And, Webb thought wryly, more convenient for the Chief Superintendent.
Not that he had anything against Fleming. He’d have preferred to run the show himself and knew he was capable of it, but higher authority had to be shown in action. And there was grim satisfaction in the fact that, despite the increased backup, Fleming had so far got no further with the second murder than he himself had with the first. The Delilah killer had seemingly appeared out of the blue, made his strike, and disappeared ‘leaving no trace behind.’
Not strictly true, of course, Webb conceded, dipping his headlights for an approaching car. Forensic would certainly dispute it, poring over their infinitesimal samples. But they didn’t add up to much. The first victim had some white fibres under her fingernails, most probably from the murderer’s gloves. The second only had minute scraps of material from the armchair on which, in her death throes, her fingers had tightened. For the rest, there were no footprints, no conveniently dropped button or handkerchief, nothing but a few dried pine-needles trodden into the carpet — and even they hadn’t been present at the second crime.
One good thing about Fleming coming in was that, barring fresh developments, he was himself released for what remained of the weekend. ‘You look shattered, Dave,’ the Chief Superintendent had remarked. ‘Better knock off till Monday and come back to it fresh. We’ll contact you if we need you.’
He’d hardly been in the flat all week, reaching it at varying hours of the late evening or early morning only to fall into exhausted sleep. Now, with a few hours in hand, he’d better make his peace with Hannah. Hell, it was almost like being married again.
On an impulse he stopped at a roadside flower stall and bought a bunch of dahlias, spiky and wet with the day’s rain. They might ease the way. But dammit, she’d had no right to
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