Read Online The Celibate Mouse by Diana Hockley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Diana Hockley
Ads: Link
spectators on the grounds as possible. He was aware some had left, but was gratified to know that by the time his colleagues arrived, he had rounded up plenty of eyewitnesses.
In all his years as a police officer, he’d not once had to control a murder scene, so it was a shock to his system to have not one, but two murders within forty-eight hours of each other. Why Edna? What could an old woman possibly do to deserve being murdered? Two members of the same family a coincidence? He could understand someone wanting to shoot Jack. A thought wisped through his consciousness, but he couldn’t quite grasp it ... his gaze homed onto the bookcase containing the photograph albums which he and Nola had lovingly put together and maintained since their marriage. Something or someone he should remember.
He got up, took the oldest off the shelf and sat back to study the images, smiling as he ran his finger down the pages. There they were, John and Nola, glowingly bridal on the front page, on honeymoon looking silly and happy whale watching at Hervey Bay. He turned a page. Their first home, dog–and Nora vastly pregnant, standing under the Hills Hoist, rubbing her tummy and rolling her eyes. The baby, now twenty-five, a squashed insect at her christening then first day at school– wait a moment – the christening.
He peered intently at the gathering. One of the children’s faces seemed familiar, not the same name, but one of them for all that. He thought the person he’d seen at the sheepdog trials was him, though he’d only seen a back view for a split second. The more his mind squirreled around the memory but he needed to check his facts before reporting to CIB. He’d only met DI Maguire briefly, but he realised that the man would not suffer fools gladly. However, there was one person whom he could ask about the long-forgotten figure in the photo.
He set the album back on the shelf and returned to bed, confident now he would be able to sleep. ‘I’ll catch him later this arvo,’ he promised himself, as he sank gratefully into bed.
CHAPTER 9
Home Truths
Susan
Monday: late morning.
‘S o, you’re telling me you could not only keep dad, but you and our real father could barely get it together either?’ Marli bites the words like a wolf tearing hunks of flesh out of a carcase–mine. ‘The great Detective Senior Sergeant–oh, I beg your pardon–Acting-Inspector Prescott–who never puts a foot wrong, stuffed up two marriages?’
‘First of all, I’m no longer an Acting Inspector, I’m a Senior Sergeant. Harry and I lasted thirteen years and I was nineteen when I married David.’
Accusations fly thick and fast, as Marli spouts reasons why I am to blame for losing her ‘real’ father, everything from being ‘like, wack’ and not understanding him, to being obsessed with my job. ‘You were never home, Mum.’ Her harsh tone and set face shock me. I can’t believe what’s happening to my calm, unflappable daughter, the one who’s always been my rock.
I start to draw a deep breath, but there is no oxygen available. I have no answer, for her accusations send me spiralling into guilt. Tears well into my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I dash them away, forcing back nausea. How could I have been so stupid and made such bad choices in my life?
Marli’s vengeful demeanour cracks. She throws her arms around me and we sob for our losses, Marli for the loss of the only father she has known and for the years she hadn’t known David, I for every mistake I’ve made. After a while, we calm down and just hold each other. The familiar warm, cinnamon scent she is wearing fills my nostrils; I can find her in the dark by smell alone, like a sheep at lambing time.
‘Okay, Mum. We won’t talk about dad for now, but I want to hear about the other stuff, David and you.’
‘Yes, I will tell you about it, but I need to emphasise that there were a lot of pressures on us. We were both to blame for the breakup.’
In all his years as a police officer, he’d not once had to control a murder scene, so it was a shock to his system to have not one, but two murders within forty-eight hours of each other. Why Edna? What could an old woman possibly do to deserve being murdered? Two members of the same family a coincidence? He could understand someone wanting to shoot Jack. A thought wisped through his consciousness, but he couldn’t quite grasp it ... his gaze homed onto the bookcase containing the photograph albums which he and Nola had lovingly put together and maintained since their marriage. Something or someone he should remember.
He got up, took the oldest off the shelf and sat back to study the images, smiling as he ran his finger down the pages. There they were, John and Nola, glowingly bridal on the front page, on honeymoon looking silly and happy whale watching at Hervey Bay. He turned a page. Their first home, dog–and Nora vastly pregnant, standing under the Hills Hoist, rubbing her tummy and rolling her eyes. The baby, now twenty-five, a squashed insect at her christening then first day at school– wait a moment – the christening.
He peered intently at the gathering. One of the children’s faces seemed familiar, not the same name, but one of them for all that. He thought the person he’d seen at the sheepdog trials was him, though he’d only seen a back view for a split second. The more his mind squirreled around the memory but he needed to check his facts before reporting to CIB. He’d only met DI Maguire briefly, but he realised that the man would not suffer fools gladly. However, there was one person whom he could ask about the long-forgotten figure in the photo.
He set the album back on the shelf and returned to bed, confident now he would be able to sleep. ‘I’ll catch him later this arvo,’ he promised himself, as he sank gratefully into bed.
CHAPTER 9
Home Truths
Susan
Monday: late morning.
‘S o, you’re telling me you could not only keep dad, but you and our real father could barely get it together either?’ Marli bites the words like a wolf tearing hunks of flesh out of a carcase–mine. ‘The great Detective Senior Sergeant–oh, I beg your pardon–Acting-Inspector Prescott–who never puts a foot wrong, stuffed up two marriages?’
‘First of all, I’m no longer an Acting Inspector, I’m a Senior Sergeant. Harry and I lasted thirteen years and I was nineteen when I married David.’
Accusations fly thick and fast, as Marli spouts reasons why I am to blame for losing her ‘real’ father, everything from being ‘like, wack’ and not understanding him, to being obsessed with my job. ‘You were never home, Mum.’ Her harsh tone and set face shock me. I can’t believe what’s happening to my calm, unflappable daughter, the one who’s always been my rock.
I start to draw a deep breath, but there is no oxygen available. I have no answer, for her accusations send me spiralling into guilt. Tears well into my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I dash them away, forcing back nausea. How could I have been so stupid and made such bad choices in my life?
Marli’s vengeful demeanour cracks. She throws her arms around me and we sob for our losses, Marli for the loss of the only father she has known and for the years she hadn’t known David, I for every mistake I’ve made. After a while, we calm down and just hold each other. The familiar warm, cinnamon scent she is wearing fills my nostrils; I can find her in the dark by smell alone, like a sheep at lambing time.
‘Okay, Mum. We won’t talk about dad for now, but I want to hear about the other stuff, David and you.’
‘Yes, I will tell you about it, but I need to emphasise that there were a lot of pressures on us. We were both to blame for the breakup.’
Similar Books
