Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

be beaten like that, no one does, but he was a bastard and I still say she’s better off without him.’
    ‘I wouldn’t say she’s better off exactly,’ Geraldine said carefully, with a sideways glance at Sam who was sitting beside her.
    ‘No,’ the sergeant agreed at once. ‘You can hardly call her better off now.’
    ‘What the hell are you talking about? Amy’s not on her own if that’s what you’re getting at. Far from it. Because I’m going to take care of her properly from now on.’
    ‘You’ll have your work cut out then.’
    Sam smiled as though she was amused by his claim.
    ‘She strikes me as an expensive woman to maintain,’ Geraldine agreed. ‘With all those designer outfits and fabulous hair treatments – you didn’t think it was natural, did you? And I expect she’s used to having a personal trainer and a tennis coach and goodness knows what else besides. So how are you intending to take care of all that, exactly?’

     
    A dark flush spread across Guy’s face and he looked down at his hands.
    ‘We’re going to share everything,’ he muttered. ‘We’ve talked about it. She says I won’t need to work any more but I’m not going to stop, if that’s what you think. I’m not that sort of a man. I pay my way. I won’t be living off her money.’
    ‘Living off her money?’ Geraldine raised her eyebrows. ‘I thought we were talking about Amy Henshaw?’
    ‘Of course I’m talking about Amy. Who else?’
    ‘But Amy Henshaw doesn’t have any money, does she?’
    Geraldine turned to Sam.
    ‘Shall I tell him or will you? Only it strikes me that Amy Henshaw has been leading this poor boy on, making out she’s a wealthy woman in her own right.’

     
    ‘We share everything,’ he repeated, raising his voice fretfully. ‘You don’t understand, we don’t have any secrets. You’re just trying to wind me up.’
    ‘How’s this for a secret?’ Geraldine retorted sharply. ‘Not only does Amy Henshaw have no money, she also has a crippling mortgage on a very expensive property that’s now registered in her name. In fact, she’s mortgaged up to the hilt with no funds to pay up. Financially her husband’s death has left her in serious trouble. What’s the matter, Guy? Did she forget to discuss her financial difficulties with you?’

     
    Guy sat without moving, staring at his lap. When he finally looked up, his brows were drawn low over eyes no longer candid.
    ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’
    His lips twisted in a snarl as he spoke, and he seemed to be short of breath.
    ‘She would have told me. We don’t have any secrets. You’re lying.’
    The news that Amy Henshaw hadn’t inherited a fortune was clearly a surprise to her young lover.

     
    Seizing on the opportunity to take advantage of Guy’s momentary dismay, Geraldine sat forward. Her light-hearted tone had disappeared. Her eyes glued to his face, she spoke slowly and clearly.
    ‘Where were you last Sunday evening between eleven and one o’clock?’
    There was a pause.
    ‘Think carefully before you answer, Mr Barrett.’
    Guy nodded as though he had been expecting this question and understood its importance.
    ‘I was with Amy all night,’ he replied, pursing his lips primly, ‘and she’ll tell you the same, so don’t go thinking you can pin this murder on either of us.’
    Although his voice was steady his eyes flicked round the room and he shifted awkwardly on his chair, his shoulders tensed.

     
    Sensing his discomfort, Geraldine pressed him with a series of questions.
    ‘How can you be sure what she’s going to say? Did you discuss this together? Get your story straight?’
    ‘I know she’ll tell you we were there because it’s the truth.’
    ‘Where were you?’
    ‘She came round. We always met at my place because – well, I couldn’t go to hers in case her husband turned up unexpectedly. So we were at my flat from –’
    He broke off, momentarily nonplussed.
    ‘Well, I can’t remember exactly when she turned up,’ he resumed lamely, ‘but it was early when she came over and she stayed all night.’

     
    He paused, staring at the photograph of Henshaw which Geraldine had left on the table, as though he was unable to drag his eyes from it.
    ‘Look, I get it. Because I’m having an affair with Amy you think it must be me that killed her husband. That’ll be good for your targets, won’t it, a nice quick arrest and you’re done. Very clever. Only, I didn’t kill Patrick