Black & Blue (Lord & Lady Hetheridge Book 4) (30 page)
Read Black & Blue (Lord & Lady Hetheridge Book 4) Online
Authors: Emma Jameson
"I had to get home," Patsy went on in that dull voice, still staring into space. "I knew about Georgette, how she played dress up, so I took some of her things. Couldn't risk the front door, not with Declan's security system, and our gate is blocked. Climbed over the fence and slipped in through the back."
"One more thing. At the crime scene," Kate said. "After you hid your coat and disguised yourself as Georgette. You took a memento, didn't you?"
"Yes. A picture of the blood spatter. Mobiles take such lovely images now. High quality, good as a proper camera. So I brought it home. Blew it up. Printed it off and hung it, just there." She pointed at the image Tony had recognized, the one Kate had snapped on the night of the murder, of four huge spots marring Hardwick's wall. Together, they were like a bouquet rendered in blood.
"My God." Declan was turning white. "Why did you do that?"
"Because it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Patsy turned to her husband at last. "When you made me break it off with Granville, you asked me why I went to him. And I couldn't tell you. I didn't have the courage. Now I do," she said, voice rising. "Because you talk about being a man, and write about being a man, but you can't
be
a man, can you? He could. That's all. He could."
Declan was speechless. After a few moments, he seemed to remember Kate and Jackson were still in the room. "I—I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do," Patsy said. "And if I had it do over again, I'd kill you, not him. That's where I went wrong. Both my men laughed at me. I just killed the wrong one for it." Crossing to where the framed photo of Hardwick's blood spatter hung, she removed it from the living room wall, clutching it to her chest. "I'm ready to go, detectives. And I'm taking this with me."
* * *
"You can handle the processing. It's your collar, really," Jackson told Kate as Patsy East was led to a waiting panda car.
"I was thinking I'd let you do the honors and go get Buck. I mean, it's late, and I could leave him in lockup till morning. But that doesn't seem fair, since he never belonged there in the first place," Kate said.
"No, I'll get him out. There something I want to talk to him about."
She looked at Jackson curiously. "Buck? Why? I didn't think you ever spoke to him."
"I haven't. But I watched his interview. All that stuff about booking a flight to England while in a blackout. Touching down and looking for a pub. Sobering up not sure what he'd done, up to and including murder. We have something in common."
"Oh. Sure." Kate thought about her sister Maura, who reacted violently whenever anyone criticized her drinking. "Are you sure now's the best time?"
He laughed. "Don't worry, Hetheridge. I won't give him the hard sell. That never works, anyway. I'm just going to explain my credentials, so to speak, in the booze arena. And tell him what somebody once told me."
"What's that?"
"You don't have to live this way if you don't want to."
Epilogue
Six weeks after Patsy's arrest and Buck's release, Kate had fallen into a new routine at the Yard. Breakfast at home with Tony, Ritchie, and Henry, then a morning conference with Paul over coffee, usually in Pret A Manger. Neither of them had much desire to return to the canteen ever again.
As Scotland Yard's move from Broadway to Victoria Embankment loomed, many people were getting a touch sentimental about the old building. DCI Jackson's new assistant, Joy, was not among them.
"It's my only hope of getting him to release the hoard and start over," she told Kate and Paul that morning as they entered Jackson's office. "He starts sweating, and I do mean physically perspiring, when I suggest he throw out one little piece of paper."
"Believe me, I know," Paul said. "Mrs. Nibley-Tatters has carted in loads of junk. She's trying to do to Mum's house what she did to her own, hoard it up to the ceiling. If Mum doesn't find a way to get rid of her soon, I may never be able to move back in."
"Do you want to?" Kate asked. She had the impression Paul enjoyed the freedom and independence of his tiny bedsit, no matter how much he complained. "Besides, you owe that woman. Her testimony got you here. Not chasing cats but back on a murder case."
"True. Let's all give thanks for murder," Paul agreed, following her into Jackson's office.
Today was, apparently, a two-boxes-of-doughnuts kind of morning. Jackson had both types, powdered and filled, on his desk. He was eating his favorite, the powdered sort; Derek Saunderson was eating a jam one. He looked thrilled to be included on the murder team and energized by the presence of Assistant Commissioner Michael Deaver.
"If it isn't Frick and Frack," Jackson said as Kate and Paul entered. "Late again."
"Sorry, Chief."
"DS Hetheridge. DS Bhar," Deaver said in his heavy, fatalistic way. No one could ever guess from his demeanor if future events boded good or ill; his bearing could make a royal wedding seem like a funeral.
"AC Deaver," Kate and Paul said more or less together.
"You visited the crime scene yesterday?" Deaver asked.
"Yes, sir," Kate said. "DCI Jackson had a look as well."
"The dead woman. She's well-known."
Kate and Paul nodded.
"There is some concern," Deaver continued, "that the victim's family may not cooperate with Scotland Yard. That they may be more interested in maintaining their image than pursuing justice."
"Given what those bluebloods are worth—" Saunderson began. Jackson glared at him, and he silenced himself with another bite of doughnut.
"Therefore, I believe it's best to hire a consultant. This man is not beholden to Scotland Yard, but he has my full confidence. Grant him unimpeded access to your investigation." Deaver rose. "Listen to his suggestions. Think carefully before disregarding them. I'll be watching this unit," he added, ostensibly to Jackson, but looking at Saunderson. "And I won't be the only one. That is all."
Saunderson groaned as soon as the office's outer door closed, signaling that the assistant commander was out of earshot. "Well, isn't that lovely? We have a babysitter, boys. And girl," he added, casting an eye toward Kate. "Someone to change your nappies. I guess that means top brass isn't sure you and Paulie are quite ready for prime time."
"I don't know," Jackson said, casting a lecherous eye on yet another powdered doughnut. "You weren't around when we arrested Mrs. East. That husband of hers was no treat. And he wasn't even real quality, just a wannabe with a big mouth. This will be a bigger hurdle, and I won't say no to a bit of help."
"Yeah, but what does 'unimpeded access' mean?" Saunderson continued. "I don't like the sound of that. Does it mean a desk? An office? The power to order me into work on a Sunday afternoon? All the rights and privileges, so to speak, yet no obligation to anyone up the food chain?"
"That sums it up nicely," said a familiar voice. Kate turned to see her husband standing in the doorway, as she'd known he soon would be.
"Hiya, Tony," Jackson said. "Doughnut?"
"Perhaps later." Taking the seat AC Deaver had so recently abandoned, Tony Hetheridge looked around the room, focusing on Paul.
"DS Bhar, I'd like you to start. Put me in the picture as to the victim and the circumstances under which her body was discovered."
"Excuse me, but I'm the senior officer," Saunderson said, buck teeth jutting. "If anyone's to start, Chief Super—"
"None of that. I'm not the Chief any longer."
"Then what do we call you?"
Tony smiled, and Kate felt a welling of love and pride. When he played this role, he played it perfectly; nobody did it better.
"Why, you can call me what you've always called me, DS Saunderson. 'My lord.' Or if you prefer, Lord Hetheridge."
THE END
From the Author
Thank you so much for reading. And for waiting a bit longer than usual for this installment of my
Lord & Lady Hetheridge
series. It took me extra time to get this one just right.
Next I'll be writing the second Dr. Benjamin Bones novel,
Divorce Can Be Deadly
, set in the winter of 1939. Lady Juliet is absolutely determined the first Christmas of the Second World War will be the most joyous her tiny village of Birdswing has ever seen. But murder, harsh weather, and the reappearance of that bounder, Ethan Bolivar, seem to conspire against her. One can only hope Dr. Bones will save the day.
As for the Hetheridges, never fear: you'll see them again in book #5,
Blue Blooded
.
Also, if you enjoyed this book, please consider joining my mailing list by going
here
. I promise never to give away or sell your email address, but only use it to alert you when I have a new release.
You can also catch up with me on
Facebook
, online at
emmajamesonbooks.com
, and occasionally on Twitter as @msemmajameson.
Cheers!
Emma Jameson
May 2015
More Books by Emma Jameson
Ice Blue
Lord & Lady Hetheridge #1
Blue Murder
Lord & Lady Hetheridge #2
Something Blue
Lord & Lady Hetheridge #3
Marriage Can Be Murder
Dr. Benjamin Bones Mysteries #1
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank her expert early reader, Kate Aaron, for her help with countless small details. It is a truth universally acknowledged that no matter how many books you read on England, or how many times you turn to Google, there's no substitute for a conversation with a native. On a few occasions, I may have fictionalized or blurred a few truths for the sake of the story. In such places, the errors belong to me alone.
The author would also like to thank the following early readers: Shéa MacLeod, Alisa Tangredi, Tara West, and Mary Ellen Wofford. Thanks also to Theo Fenraven, Jenx Byron, and Bonnie Toering. I'm so grateful to you all!
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