Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

an idiot. I’ve got to say, it’s the stupidest idea I’ve heard in a long time. Patrick was my partner. We’ve known each other for years. Why would I want him dead? If he really was murdered. What possible motive could I have for killing him?’
    ‘Money is a powerful motive.’
    ‘That’s ridiculous.’

     
    Corless looked uncomfortable. He drained his glass and resumed fidgeting with his box of cigars, but when he next spoke his voice was firm.
    ‘Look, Inspector, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Mireille’s a great business, but our success is down to Patrick, so it makes no sense for me to want to get rid of him. Why would I?’
    He sighed and rubbed his chin with the fingers of one hand.
    ‘Mr Corless, you must be aware that Mireille now belongs to you, making you an extremely wealthy man. Patrick Henshaw was very generous towards you in his will.’
    ‘It was a reciprocal agreement. We go back a long way, me and Pat. God knows how I’m going to manage this place without him. Believe me, no one is going to regret his passing more than me. Jesus, I depended on Pat to make this place work. Without him, I’m really in the shit.’
    He sounded genuine, but Geraldine wasn’t sure whether to believe him. With so much money at stake, anything was possible.

CHAPTER 15
     
    A my had wanted to speak to Guy as soon as the inspector left her house, but she had been nervous about contacting him. The police might be listening to her calls. By Wednesday morning she was desperate to speak to him. She dialled his number from a payphone in a pub, but he didn’t answer. He must be at work. She would have to wait until the evening. Catching sight of herself in the mirror when she went to the bathroom, she was shocked by her face, white with red and swollen eyes. She took a deep breath. Whatever else happened, she couldn’t let Guy see her looking so haggard. Usually she could get away with admitting to ten years younger than her forty years, but right now she looked closer to fifty. Imagining herself standing beside Guy gave her a tremor of panic.

     
    Removing all traces of make-up she took a long shower, before lying down with cooling eye patches to reduce the swelling around her eyes. It was impossible to relax. Finally she got up, dressed, and reapplied her make-up carefully until she looked reasonably presentable. Then she went out to try the payphone again.
    ‘I need to see you,’ she blurted out as soon as he answered. ‘Something’s happened to Patrick.’
    Her voice shook as she told him she thought she might be in trouble with the police. They had cunning techniques for putting pressure on vulnerable people. She was careful not to say too much in case anyone was listening.

     
    Having lost her husband, Amy might be about to lose her freedom as well. Then everything would be over: the sex, the money, the whole future they had planned together, all snatched away. The phone trembled in her grasp. She tried to think, but her mind seized up. Patrick had always taken care of everything. He had taken care of her. Now she would have to look out for herself. Guy was too young and inexperienced to take charge of the situation.

     
    ‘When can you come round?’
    He sounded curiously keyed up. Amy barely paused before agreeing to go there right away. Far better confront him face to face with what she needed him to do.
    ‘Amy, what have you done?’ he asked as soon as his door closed behind her.
    He moved aside to avoid her embrace and gazed at her in consternation.
    ‘Done? What do you mean?’
    She moved forward to kiss him, but he pushed her away and repeated his question. He wanted to know exactly what had happened. Keeping her at arm’s length, he studied her face carefully.
    ‘Amy, you look terrible. What’s wrong? Tell me what happened. What did he do to you, Amy? Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t worry, whatever happened, whatever you’ve done, it’s not your fault.’

     
    Amy was watching his face closely as he spoke. When she answered her voice was terse.
    ‘I haven’t done anything, Guy.’
    She was shocked. If Guy blamed her, what hope did she have of convincing the police she was innocent? She turned away.
    ‘He’s dead.’
    Amy turned back to him in time to see Guy’s eyes narrow, calculating.
    ‘Patrick’s dead,’ she repeated solemnly, and was surprised to see him grinning.
    ‘But that’s great! I can’t believe it! He’s gone, really gone, out of our