Read Online Death in July by Michael Joseph - Free Book Online Page B

slightest movement sending searing bolts of fire up his leg. Placing two tablets in his mouth, Sam washed them down with a generous helping of alcohol and contemplated the irony of what he was doing. He could almost be replaying the past.
    Sat in an armchair in the dark. Suffering discomfort in his leg. Helping himself to pills and alcohol. Living out Geoffrey's last moments.
    He snapped out of it when his phone vibrated. Benjamin was calling him. Sam turned his phone off. Benjamin had asked him earlier if he was coming back here tonight. Sam had told him he wasn't. What Benjamin didn't know...
    Sam didn't want any unwanted interference tonight. He had locked the front and back doors from the inside on arrival in case Benjamin decided on another impromptu appearance. A bit drastic, perhaps, but Sam needed to work alone from now on. Anyway, he doubted Benjamin would dare turn up alone this evening after last night's escapade.
    The next few hours passed slowly. During that time, Sam's rage at nearly being run over subsided from boiling anger to burning resolve. He knew it was vital to retain cold focus. Blind recklessness would be his downfall.
    Sam stayed awake all night. The sporadic doses of unorthodox medication kept the pain at bay. However, nothing happened. No unusual noises. No unwelcome visitors. As the morning sunlight began to cascade through the window, Sam considered the possibility nothing else would happen.
    The thought depressed him.

Chapter 12
     
    Sam woke up feeling sore. He looked at his watch. Midday. He had slept like a baby after returning from the cottage. Pulling back his bed sheet, Sam winced at the sight of his leg. His thigh was swollen and discoloured. He was positive nothing was broken, but getting about was going to be highly uncomfortable for the foreseeable future.
    He drove over to Benjamin's bungalow, grimacing every time he pressed down on the foot pedals. But if Sam was suffering, it looked nothing compared to the anguish Benjamin was going through. He answered the door to Sam unshaven, bleary-eyed and downright miserable.
    'What's up with your face?' asked Sam.
    'Come in, Sam. I want to talk to you.'
    Sam followed him into the front room, where they took a seat each either end of the sofa. Benjamin continued to look despondent.
    'Well?' said Sam.
    Benjamin rubbed his hands together nervously.
    'Arnold moved out of here last night. He's staying in a hotel until the funeral.'
    Sam waited for Benjamin to elaborate.
    'He said he couldn’t stand watching me make a fool of myself anymore over our father. He told me I need to move on and forget about the way he died...that I should just let it go.'
    Sam studied Benjamin closely. The man had clearly been shaken by his brother's decision to leave. Sam noticed something else. An uncertainty in Benjamin's eyes that Sam hadn't seen since the day the two of them met in his office.
    'And what do you think?'
    Benjamin hesitated. He gave Sam a guarded look.
    'I've given it a lot of thought, Sam. I think he's right...'
    Sam raised his eyebrows but remained silent.
    'It's the funeral tomorrow,' continued Benjamin. 'I should be letting my father rest in peace now rather than stirring things up. I'm asking that you bring a halt to the investigation. I'll pay you for the rest of the week.'
    Sam was stunned. He couldn't believe this sudden change in attitude. Benjamin had been so adamant about his father's death, so determined to ensure justice was served.
    'What about the intruder at the cottage?' asked Sam. 'And the attack on your father last-'
    Benjamin shot to his feet.
    'None of it matters anymore, Sam! Can't you see that? Like Arnold said, I need to move on, get the funeral over with and carry on with my own life.'
    In that moment, Sam was taken by many things about Benjamin.
    The exasperation in his voice.
    The moral conflict, almost visible on his face, over what to do for the best.
    The way his words echoed those of his brother.
     
    ***
     
    Sam left