be affecting your capacity for logical thought. Dermot O’Flannery cannot possibly be involved in this! He draws crowds like a magnet draws iron filings. If he’d been within a hundred metres of the park the day Gabbie Robinson was murdered, someone would have noticed.
We
would have noticed!”
Graham was right. Curse him. I deflated like a whoopee cushion. Sighing loudly, I tried again. Kyle Jacobs, I thought. What about him? I screwed my eyes tight shut and thought back over everything that had been said about him, hoping I might find a link to the mysterious Mr X – the stranger who’d lurked in the bushes. I turned over every last scrap of information and finally remembered what PC Black had said when we’d given him our statements right after Gabbie’s murder. He’d let slip that Kyle “Horrible Hoodie” Jacobs was tagged. Minor theft, the policeman had said. So Kyle hadn’t been involved in anything serious. Or at least nothing that they knew about…
A flash of inspiration hit me like a thunderbolt. “Wasn’t Dermot’s house broken into the night his wife died?” I exclaimed.
“You know it was.” Graham stayed annoyingly calm. “Her murder was the result of a bungled burglary.”
“And Horrible Hoodie is tagged for theft.”
“Minor theft.” Graham shrugged. “They wouldn’t let him walk the streets otherwise.”
“Maybe he only got
caught
doing minor theft. It doesn’t mean he’s never done anything else.”
“Are you suggesting he…?”
“Yes.” I jumped to my feet, grabbing Graham’s arm and pulling him up so forcefully that he squealed in protest.
We weren’t any closer to finding Gabbie’s killer. Or to knowing who’d driven the car that had knocked down Mumsiewumsie. But I was suddenly convinced that Horrible Hoodie had killed Dermot O’Flannery’s wife.
“How? Why?” Graham puffed as we sped through the side gate of the park. I wanted to get as far away from there as possible.
“OK,” I said as we raced along the pavement towards home. I’d picked Bertie up so we could move faster. Graham was dragging the doggy go-kart along with one hand and the two huffing, puffing shih tzu with the other. “I reckon they must have known each other from the dogfighting ring. I don’t care what you say – Dermot’s got a dog, I know he has. Maybe he uses it for fighting, I don’t know. But he and Kyle are connected somehow, I’m sure of it. It’s the only explanation. Dermot could have paid Kyle to kill his wife and make it look like a burglary.”
“But why? He was devoted to her. He went to pieces! Fell into her grave and everything.”
“Yes, well, Grant looks grief-stricken now too, doesn’t he? And yet he spent all his time in the park flirting with Sprinting Woman before Gabbie died. Dermot’s upset widower bit might just have been a good act. I bet his wife was well insured or something.”
“Insurance money?” Graham nodded. “Yes, that sounds plausible. As we know, money is high on the list when it comes to murder motives.”
“Exactly. And the case is still unsolved, which could be because up until now there’s been nothing to connect Kyle and Dermot – nothing at all. Except for the dogfighting, which Gabbie Robinson, RSPCA inspector, was investigating. Suppose she was about to find out that they knew each other? Wouldn’t that be enough for them to want to shut her up?”
“But where does Grant Robinson fit in? And Mumsiewumsie?”
“I’ve no idea. But we’ll work it out.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Graham, sitting down on a wall and pausing to catch his breath.
“We’ve got no choice,” I told him. “Let’s call the police now. Tell them what we overheard, at any rate. Where’s your phone?”
Graham plucked his mobile from his pocket but we were out of luck. After informing him that its battery was dangerously low, the mobile died with a soft, despairing bleep.
“Stupid thing!” I exclaimed crossly. I fought the
We
would have noticed!”
Graham was right. Curse him. I deflated like a whoopee cushion. Sighing loudly, I tried again. Kyle Jacobs, I thought. What about him? I screwed my eyes tight shut and thought back over everything that had been said about him, hoping I might find a link to the mysterious Mr X – the stranger who’d lurked in the bushes. I turned over every last scrap of information and finally remembered what PC Black had said when we’d given him our statements right after Gabbie’s murder. He’d let slip that Kyle “Horrible Hoodie” Jacobs was tagged. Minor theft, the policeman had said. So Kyle hadn’t been involved in anything serious. Or at least nothing that they knew about…
A flash of inspiration hit me like a thunderbolt. “Wasn’t Dermot’s house broken into the night his wife died?” I exclaimed.
“You know it was.” Graham stayed annoyingly calm. “Her murder was the result of a bungled burglary.”
“And Horrible Hoodie is tagged for theft.”
“Minor theft.” Graham shrugged. “They wouldn’t let him walk the streets otherwise.”
“Maybe he only got
caught
doing minor theft. It doesn’t mean he’s never done anything else.”
“Are you suggesting he…?”
“Yes.” I jumped to my feet, grabbing Graham’s arm and pulling him up so forcefully that he squealed in protest.
We weren’t any closer to finding Gabbie’s killer. Or to knowing who’d driven the car that had knocked down Mumsiewumsie. But I was suddenly convinced that Horrible Hoodie had killed Dermot O’Flannery’s wife.
“How? Why?” Graham puffed as we sped through the side gate of the park. I wanted to get as far away from there as possible.
“OK,” I said as we raced along the pavement towards home. I’d picked Bertie up so we could move faster. Graham was dragging the doggy go-kart along with one hand and the two huffing, puffing shih tzu with the other. “I reckon they must have known each other from the dogfighting ring. I don’t care what you say – Dermot’s got a dog, I know he has. Maybe he uses it for fighting, I don’t know. But he and Kyle are connected somehow, I’m sure of it. It’s the only explanation. Dermot could have paid Kyle to kill his wife and make it look like a burglary.”
“But why? He was devoted to her. He went to pieces! Fell into her grave and everything.”
“Yes, well, Grant looks grief-stricken now too, doesn’t he? And yet he spent all his time in the park flirting with Sprinting Woman before Gabbie died. Dermot’s upset widower bit might just have been a good act. I bet his wife was well insured or something.”
“Insurance money?” Graham nodded. “Yes, that sounds plausible. As we know, money is high on the list when it comes to murder motives.”
“Exactly. And the case is still unsolved, which could be because up until now there’s been nothing to connect Kyle and Dermot – nothing at all. Except for the dogfighting, which Gabbie Robinson, RSPCA inspector, was investigating. Suppose she was about to find out that they knew each other? Wouldn’t that be enough for them to want to shut her up?”
“But where does Grant Robinson fit in? And Mumsiewumsie?”
“I’ve no idea. But we’ll work it out.”
“So what do we do now?” asked Graham, sitting down on a wall and pausing to catch his breath.
“We’ve got no choice,” I told him. “Let’s call the police now. Tell them what we overheard, at any rate. Where’s your phone?”
Graham plucked his mobile from his pocket but we were out of luck. After informing him that its battery was dangerously low, the mobile died with a soft, despairing bleep.
“Stupid thing!” I exclaimed crossly. I fought the
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