Stop Dead (DI Geraldine Steel)

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    ‘Do you know, I’m not sure,’ she said at last. ‘Was he in here yesterday? That’s a jolly good question.’
    She paused. Geraldine waited.
    ‘Yesterday, you say?’
    ’Yes, yesterday evening.’
    ‘Yesterday evening?’ Angela echoed.
    Geraldine hid her impatience.

     
    ‘That old codger’s here all the time,’ another barmaid announced, glancing over Angela’s shoulder.
    ‘I know that,’ Angela conceded. ‘But was he here last night? That’s what they want to know.’
    ‘Last night?’
    The other barmaid looked up at Geraldine, suddenly suspicious.
    ‘Who wants to know?’
    ‘She does. She’s police.’
    ‘Flipping heck.’
    ‘Was this gentleman in here last night?’ Geraldine asked. ‘We need to track his movements, find out who he was drinking with.’
    ‘Oh, that’s easy enough,’ the second barmaid said. ‘He always drinks alone, that one.’
    ‘Was he in here last night?’
    The plump barmaid shrugged and turned away, losing interest.
    ‘Last night? He could have been.’

     
    The barmaids’ answers were inconclusive, but at least Geraldine had established where Bradshaw habitually drank. It was frustrating that no one could say for sure if they had seen him there the previous evening but it was a fair bet he had been in the bar on the night he was killed, drinking on his own if the barmaids’ information was accurate. As she drove home, Geraldine thought about the old man, hunched and misshapen, eking out a solitary existence, travelling two stops on the bus from his lodging to a bar where they took his money without registering his presence, before he caught the bus back to his empty flat. At least his dog had noticed his absence.

CHAPTER 48
     
    M ore statements had been taken from employees of companies that came into contact with Mireille: food suppliers, employment agencies, laundrettes, even refuse collectors, but no one was able to give any indication as to who might have wanted the two proprietors dead. The detective chief inspector briefly considered making enquiries into rival restaurants, but although criminal action to sabotage Mireille’s menu was perhaps credible, a double murder seemed too far-fetched, even without the complication of Bradshaw who had nothing to do with the restaurant, as far as they knew.

     
    The whole investigation was fraught with inconsistencies. Not only was the third victim’s involvement an enigma, but different coloured hairs had been found at two of the crime scenes. It was of course possible the different coloured hairs found on Henshaw and Bradford came from the same woman, if she had dyed her hair in between the first and the third attack. If the DNA of the blonde hair found on Bradshaw’s body matched the sample of female DNA found at the scene of Henshaw’s murder, the as yet unidentified woman would be placed at the scene of two out of the three murders. A close search might even discover the same DNA at the site where Corless's body had been deposited. That area was still being checked. In the meantime, they were all pinning their hopes on the blonde hair providing them with more information.

     
    Reg veered towards suspecting Corless’s young mistress. Desiree was a gold-digger who had embarked on the affair with the intention of getting her hands on his fortune. She had the opportunity, stood to gain a substantial share of his restaurant on his death, and had shoulder-length blonde hair. But the hair found in Henshaw’s car was dark and, in any case, Reg agreed with Geraldine that it was a leap to suppose Desiree had killed both men in the vain hope of getting her hands on a share of the restaurant. It didn’t add up.

     
    Geraldine was convinced that Desiree had genuinely cared for Corless.
    ‘What if George killed Patrick, for sole ownership of the restaurant, and was then killed in turn by Desiree?’ Reg suggested. ‘She might have put him up to it. Perhaps it was Desiree, not Amy, who manipulated her lover into committing a murder.’
    He rubbed his hands together, warming to his theory.
    ‘George might have told his mistress exactly how he’d killed his business partner, giving her the idea of doing the same to him. It’s possible, isn’t it?’
    He sounded quite animated and Geraldine shook her head cautiously. Reg was, after all, the boss, and she had to be diplomatic, especially when she was sure he was wrong.
    ‘But I don’t think we can read too much into the blonde