Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

lives. I don’t care what happened, all that matters now is that he’s gone and we can be together all the time!’
    Amy looked up at him, tears spilling from her eyes. Gently he reached forward to wipe a tear from her cheek with one finger.
    ‘What is it, Amy?’
    ‘Patrick was murdered. Guy, this is horrible.’

     
    He put his arms around her, pulling her close.
    ‘So what? What difference does that make to us? He’s dead, isn’t he, and that’s all that matters. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it. Come on, Amy, don’t cry. He’s dead, and we can be together all the time. There’s nothing to stop us now. That’s what’s important. And it’s hardly a surprise that someone finished him off, is it? He was a vicious bastard. He got what was coming to him and that’s the end of it.’
    His smile faded as Amy pulled away in alarm.
    ‘I mean, I’m sorry he’s dead, of course,’ he added quickly. ‘And to die like that. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but –’ he lowered his voice, speaking very clearly, ‘I don’t blame his killer, and nor do you. Your husband got what was coming to him and good riddance.’

     
    Amy took a step backwards, her eyes fixed on Guy’s face.
    ‘I haven’t told you what happened yet,’ she whispered. ‘How do you know how he died?’
    ‘You said he’d been murdered. That’s all I need to know.’
    ‘What if they find out?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    Guy shrugged his shoulders.
    ‘Don’t even think about it. Think about me, about us!’
    ‘It’s not that easy. It’s… ’
    Amy broke off, incoherent with sobs.

     
    Guy put his arms around her again and led her gently into the kitchen where he put the kettle on and poured out two mugs of tea.
    ‘Do you want sugar in it?’ he asked, solicitously. ‘It’s good for shock.’
    Amy grimaced and he grinned.
    ‘I’ll take that as a no, then.’
    He put the tea on the table in front of her.
    ‘Now, do you want to talk about it? Tell me what happened at the police station.’

     
    He watched her lips pucker as she blew on her tea.
    ‘If you’d rather not talk about it – or about his death – that’s alright. Whatever you want. We can talk about what we’re going to do, if you like. Because it will all be yours now, won’t it? The house, the car – the dog!’
    Finally he was rewarded with a tentative smile and he sat down, cupping his own hot mug in his hands.
    ‘He can’t take anything away from you now, and he won’t ever hurt you again. You’re free, Amy, a free woman.’
    She smiled weakly.
    ‘And a rich one,’ he added in a quiet murmur, almost inaudible behind his tea.

     
    He put his mug down and leaned forward.
    ‘But I don’t give a stuff about the money, Amy. All I care about is being with you. And whatever happened to him had nothing to do with either of us. It’s just our good luck to be finally rid of him for good.’
    ‘I know. It couldn’t have been either of us,’ she replied.
    All at once her voice became firm.
    ‘It couldn’t have been us, because we were together when Patrick was killed. We were both here all Sunday night.’
    ‘Until you left at –’ he broke off, understanding.
    Amy reached across the table and stroked his bottom lip with her finger.
    ‘Enough talking. Whenever it was done, you were with me. All night.’
    She stood up, walked round the table and bent down to kiss him. Guy surrendered to her embrace.

CHAPTER 16
     
    A s Geraldine was about to go out for lunch the next day she received a call from the forensic team. Several long brown hairs had been found on the passenger seat of Henshaw’s car, along with smears of make-up. Geraldine frowned. Amy was blonde. The forensic evidence indicated that someone else had been sitting beside the driver on his last journey.
    ‘So at some point a dark-haired woman was sitting in the passenger seat,’ Geraldine said.
    ‘Sitting or possibly lying back.’
    ‘What makes you say that?’ she asked, suddenly interested.

     
    ‘The hairs were found on the seat, hairs and flecks of dandruff, but there were also specimens on the back of the head rest, as though the woman had been lying with her head pushed back. It’s just a possibility. Make-up was found on the back of the seat as well, suggesting she was lying with her face turned sideways, pressing against the seat.’
    ‘Why would anyone sit like that?’
    ‘Search me. I’m just reporting on what we found in the vehicle.’
    Geraldine