Read Online Isle of the Dead by Alex Connor - Free Book Online

Christ, it was terrible. She was everything to me. And then the fucking police asked me all those questions, making me feel like a suspect.’ He turned to Nino, suddenly angry. ‘Who are you really?’
    â€˜I’m asking questions about Seraphina’s death.’
    â€˜And her parents hired you?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜So who did?’ Tom countered, walking over to a cabinet and taking out a joint. He lit it and inhaled, smoke juddering from his lips, his manner veering between confusion and hostility.
    â€˜I’m working for an old friend of Seraphina’s.’
    â€˜Who?’
    â€˜Gaspare Reni.’
    â€˜Never heard of him,’ Tom replied, sitting down and flinging one arm along the back of the sofa. ‘I know all Seraphina’s friends, and I’ve never heard of him.’
    â€˜Gaspare’s an art dealer. I met Seraphina through him. He knew her parents well,’ Nino replied. ‘Seraphina knew him when she was a girl, although he wasn’t a close friend—’
    â€˜So why’s he so interested in her death?’ Tom put his head on one side. ‘If my wife only knew this dealer when she was younger, why does her death matter so much to him?’
    The hostility caught Nino off guard. ‘Gaspare took Seraphina’s death hard. He sent me over here to find out if there’s anything which might lead us to her killer.’
    Without being invited, Nino sat down. The action surprised Tom Morgan as he inhaled again on the joint, his narrow fingers shaking. Was it guilt? Nino wondered. Was he involved in his wife’s death? Or just jumpy after seeing her body? Looking away, Tom closed his eyes, and Nino took the chance to study his surroundings. Although it wasn’t situated in the most expensive area of the city, the apartment was sumptuous, well furnished with antiques and the ubiquitous modern additions of TV and computer.
    Obviously Tom Morgan was successful.
    â€˜What do you do for a living?’
    â€˜Interior designer.’
    â€˜But Seraphina was a scientist?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ Tom replied, ‘scientists
can
marry artists.’
    â€˜So you think of yourself as an artist?’
    â€˜What the fuck!’ Tom snapped, putting down his joint and leaning towards Nino. ‘Look, I’m only talking to you because Seraphina’s parents asked me to. It’s a favour to them. But I don’t
have
to answer your questions – the police have asked me plenty already.’
    There was a sullen pause, Tom leaning back in the sofaand crossing his legs. His expression was unreadable. At times belligerent, at times emotional – it was, Nino thought, like trying to talk to a firework.
    â€˜Did you know Seraphina?’
    â€˜Yes,’ Nino replied. ‘I only met her once, but I liked her.’
    â€˜Where did you meet her?’
    â€˜In London.’
    â€˜And this Gaspare Reni, is he based in London?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Recrossing his legs, Tom blinked several times, then inhaled deeply. ‘Seraphina was visiting London on a short trip. She’d been there before with her parents and with me. She wanted to see the sights.’
    â€˜On her own?’
    Again, the tilt of the head. ‘Well, go on, ask.’
    â€˜Ask what?’
    â€˜What you’ve been trying to fucking ask ever since you came in. Were we happy? Was our marriage a good one? Did I have girlfriends? Did Seraphina have a lover?’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘Have I missed anything out? That’s the usual list, isn’t it? The police have already gone over it with me a number of times.’
    â€˜I’m not your enemy,’ Nino said quietly. ‘I’m only trying to find out what happened.’
    â€˜Seraphina was killed, that’s what happened.’
    â€˜All right,’ Nino said, his tone hardening, ‘I’ll be blunt. Did you have a good