Read Online The Final Curtain by Priscilla Masters - Free Book Online

there.’
    Now Matthew was frowning too, so she continued, ‘I thought I’d got through to her that she shouldn’t keep calling us out for nothing but I’d hardly got back to the station when there’s another call. This time her late husband’s watch has turned up in her bedroom this afternoon in spite of having been buried with him in his coffin.’
    Matthew looked incredulous. ‘Now that’s a trick worthy of Houdini,’ he said, grinning.
    She nodded in puzzlement and agreement. ‘Surely it has to just be a similar watch,’ she said. ‘Either that or it
wasn’t
buried with her nearest and dearest. One or the other.’
    Matthew grinned at her indulgently. ‘When you’ve excluded the impossible …’ he quoted partially.
    â€˜I can only come to the conclusion that in spite of her apparent sanity Timony Weeks is, in fact, losing her marbles. And fairly quickly.’
    At the mention of Timony’s name Matt looked at her in disbelief. ‘You’re joking.’
    â€˜No. That really is her name.’
    Matthew’s face was thoughtful. ‘Unless these tricks really are being played on her.’
    â€˜I really don’t know what to think. Anyway, that’s not all my bad news.’
    â€˜There’s more?’
    â€˜As well as being haunted by a sixty-year-old lady, apparently a humourless psycho is to replace Colclough.’
    â€˜All good news then, Jo.’ She was tempted to flick a spoonful of Parmesan cheese at him but knew she wouldn’t fancy cleaning it all up later so resisted, merely making a face at him, then reaching across and touching his hand. ‘And how about your first day back?’ Matthew was a Home Office pathologist, and while his descriptions of his day’s work could be gruesome, to Joanna they were invariably fascinating – and a useful education.
    â€˜Oh. The usual. Nothing very interesting. Nothing for you. No murders or even a suicide. Just sickness, death and mother nature.’
    She eyed him sharply. ‘You’ve come down to earth with a bump too, Matt. We’ve only been married a couple of weeks.’
    He smiled at her. ‘We’ve had our fairy tale, Jo. Now we have to face the real future together.’
    She studied him. With his tousled blond hair, stubborn chin, green eyes and lovely grin he was very easy on the eye, as he had been from the time she had first noticed him, when she had met his eyes in the mirror as he had stood behind her, after a particularly unpleasant post-mortem she had attended, and been amused at her squeamishness. Oh, yes. She had noticed him all right. But that angle of his jaw had forewarned her. She and he were two strong characters. There was always going to be a clashing of horns. He was right, though. However turbulent the path ahead might prove they now had to face the real future together.
    And that might well be tough.
She
knew she had one vision of their future and
he
another.
    She knew he would like to start a family, whereas she …? She could have put it off, perhaps for ever.
    As soon as they had finished their meal he stood up. ‘I think I’ll just give Eloise a ring,’ he said, breaking the magic of the evening. ‘See how she’s getting on.’
    Which left her to load the dishwasher and put the pans in to soak.
Tuesday, January 17, 7.30 a.m.
    She looked out of the window to a brightening sky. ‘It looks lovely,’ she said. ‘I wonder if I could risk the bike.’
    Matthew came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms. ‘No, Jo,’ he protested. ‘It’s too dark. You can’t be seen even with lights and a fluorescent jacket. It’s too dangerous. And it’ll be freezing and slippery.’ He nuzzled her neck. ‘Wait until the spring, darling.’
    But instead of the warm stroke of his fingers on her neck she felt the cold grip of resentment and instead