TWO SIMON GRANT MYSTERIES
Hiding the Elephant – Chapter 6
The line goes dead and something curled tightly within her dissolves with it. Jesus, what a mess. Emma reaches for the ignition key but turns it over just enough for the radio to come on. The football match is still in progress. The local radio reporter doesn’t sound too happy. Without looking, she presses another button. The frivolous charm of Dvorák’s Humoresque, incongruous and mocking, makes her laugh. She should do the simple and the obvious – go home and get drunk. It’s almost ten o’clock. It’s been a bitch of a night and there’s nothing more she can do now. She can tell Simon what she knows tomorrow, once he re-surfaces. It can’t be that urgent. Sergeant Tully was right. Simon is perfectly capable of looking after himself. She overreacted back at the hospital. Lost her sense of proportion. The Branton estate did that to her. And Elaine. That’s all. That’s all, Phil. Honest. There’s no more to it. Tomorrow, she’ll make Phil his breakfast again, bring it upstairs and slip into bed next to him, and one day a miracle will happen, she knows it will and they’ll have kids, lots of them and everything will be fine. She’ll find Simon tomorrow and tell him what she’s learned, and he can make his arrest and then…then what. Oh, who the hell cares? It’ll all work out one way or another. Things always do.
Lock Up Your Daughters – Chapter 6
It all went downhill from there. The next morning it transpired that the phoney Miss Hunt’s hotel reservation was made over the phone by a Mr. R.G. Soames who gave his address as 36c Richmond Drive in Hendon and a contact telephone number. Mr. Boot Junior, the hotel owner’s son, took the call himself. Remembered it quite clearly even, said Warner. Only, when checked, the telephone number matched an entirely different address in south London, a tattoo parlour that specialised in exotic birds, and 36 Richmond Drive, no “c”, in Hendon was shared by two widowed sisters in their eighties with poor eyesight and very little English.
‘I’ve identified Hunt’s fingerprints,’ said Brendan Shea. He popped to the Station in person. His report typed out in large font covered less than a full page.
‘And, apart from very few items of clothing, and her hair on the hairbrush, that’s about all she’s left behind. Must have had her handbag containing any ID with her when she went riding. The murderer must have taken it away with him.’
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