Read Online The End of the Roadie (A Mystery for D.I Costello) by Elizabeth Flynn - Free Book Online

themselves as press rearguard. She lowered the window and stared into a variety of camera lenses, trying to distinguish between a babble of shouted comments and questions.
    “Can-you-give-us-any-information?-Is-Brendan-a-suspect-are-you-close-to-an-arrest?-How-is-Brendan?-Tell-him-we’re-here-for-him!”
    “Move that van, please.”
    “We’d-just-like-a-word-for-our-viewers/listeners/readers.-Is-it-true-that-the-Mob-have-infiltrated-Brendan’s-team?-How-many-times-was-the-victim-shot?-I-love-him!-Can-you-tell-him-that?”
    “Move that van, please.”
    “We just –”
    “The only comment I’m prepared to make is that I’m planning to arrest your driver for obstructing a police enquiry.” She turned to Gary. “Gary, drive up close to that van.”
    Gary edged them forward, stopping inches from the other vehicle. The driver had his head turned away from them. “The horn, Gary; I’m not playing games.”
    Gary sounded the horn.
    Then he sounded it again, louder.
    The van moved.
    Ignoring the camera flashes and continued attempts to extract information, Angela rolled the window back up. She and Gary now had clear access to the shiny, black wrought-iron gates, which slid smoothly open to admit them once they had paused at the intercom to identify themselves. Gary drove them slowly along the short, impeccably maintained gravelled approach to a palatial entrance concealed from the road. Wide, red double doors were set into a vast porch bordered by two imposing columns.
    “Wow! Nice pad! Maybe I should have stuck to my piano lessons,” remarked Gary.
    “Who knows where they would have led,” agreed Angela, getting out of the car and coming round to the driver’s side, where Gary had the window wound down.
    Gary, still absorbed by the house, hadn’t really heard her. “Those are Doric-style columns, aren’t they?”
    “Yes, I believe you’re right. I wonder what happens now. Do we just go and ring the bell, or will someone come out? They know we’ve arrived, after all.” Looking uncertainly towards the grandiose entrance, she saw the left door open; a man emerged. In his mid-forties, dressed in understatedly elegant casual clothes, he came across the gravel to them with a smile on his face. Angela thought he looked familiar and couldn’t think where she might have met him. His first words told her.
    “Detective Inspector Costello and Detective Constable Houseman? Hi, I’m Desmond Phelan, Brendan’s brother. I was watching your arrival on our CCTV. It didn’t take you long to get through that horde. I’m impressed.”
    “I had enough of their questions as I was leaving the Apollo at far too early an hour this morning,” replied Angela. “They’ll get their next statement when I’m good and ready.”
    Desmond nodded. “Just leave the car there,” he said toGary. “It will be brought round for you when you leave.” He looked from one to the other as Gary left the vehicle to the house staff and joined Angela on the gravel. “OK, this way.” He turned and preceded them through the door. Angela and Gary exchanged one brief, expressive glance, then they obeyed.
    Desmond led them into a spacious bright, round hallway. An expanse of deep green carpet covered the floor and pale apple-green walls rose the full height of the house to a domed glass ceiling, through which sunlight streamed down on them. The effect was stunning.
    Tilly Townsend did him proud , thought Angela.
    Desmond closed the front door. “Please come this way,” he said, setting off across the sea of green carpet to a circular staircase which began to their right and continued up, as far as she could tell, nearly to the dome. Silently they followed him up the stairs and along the galleried landing into a large, airy living room on the upper floor. Desmond stood back, indicating they should go in before turning away and heading back down the stairs. Here a different colour scheme reigned, peach (carpet) and cream (wallpaper). Light