Adam returned to the room to find Colin slumped in the seat, swigging from the hipflask he’d been given by Sam. The red blotches on his cheeks against the pallor of his skin suggested he had a story to tell, which he dutifully launched into.
‘Jesus,’ exclaimed Adam, his eyes wide at the thought of Colin nearly being caught snooping around.
Just you wait, thought Colin. He hadn’t even got around to telling his friend what he’d uncovered.
From his pocket, he took the envelope. He set it on the table, letting Adam examine it. He imagined this is how going on the Antiques Roadshow felt.
Adam picked the envelope up, casting his gaze over the outside. There was no name, address or stamp, which meant that the envelope must’ve been delivered by hand.
Next, he examined the opening at the top. To Adam’s eye, it seemed to have been ripped in haste. The line was not cleanly torn, as it would’ve been if a letter opener had been used.
No, this was done with speed.
Out of fear?
Perhaps
Or excitement, as dirty deeds often are.
Fishing inside, his fingers settled on nothing but the scrap of paper. The same scrap of paper that had made Colin’s heart gallop not twenty minutes previously.
Unfolding the paper, he read the scribbled words.
* * *
£200. And that’s the last of it, as agreed.
* * *
‘The last of it?’ Adam said. ‘That would suggest that whoever gave this to Danny has given him more in the past.’
‘And that would suggest that whoever gave him the money also had cause to kill him,’ Colin added. ‘But, why would anyone be giving him money?’
‘To shut him up,’ Adam said. ‘We know he blackmailed Sam into giving him the best man gig. What if he was blackmailing someone else too?’
‘Or, what if he wasn’t?’
‘You think Sam did this?’
Colin shrugged.
‘It makes sense. Danny has been threatening to expose Sam’s secret kiss. What happened if Sam snapped and decided enough was enough after the argument?’
Adam considered it. It made sense, but the timeframe seemed too quick for Sam to have committed the murder. They knew that Danny paid Vicky a visit after he’d seen Sam, so he was definitely alive when the groom had left. Could Sam have snuck back later in the night? Had he been the one who had stolen the key from Ross’s jacket? It certainly was a possibility – after all, no one else knew about the spare key.
When Adam made no reply, Colin took out the second thing he’d found.
The empty strip of tablets.
‘Why would these be in his room? He’s allergic,’ Adam said, twirling the packet in his fingers, the light reflecting off the silver packaging.
‘You think that’s how he was killed? Someone made him take the tablets that they knew he’d have a reaction to?’ Colin asked.
Adam gave no answer, keen not to jump to conclusions, though the reasoning seemed watertight.
Danny had been allergic to paracetamol his whole life. After many a night out, he’d lamented his allergy as a curse; the hangover inevitable, to be endured without treatment. It was a well-known ailment and something that could be easily used against him.
It didn’t help narrow down the culprit.
Adam moved it to the side, leaving a space for the final piece of evidence. Colin dutifully set the antiquated phone between them.
Adam looked at it with curiosity, his eyes narrowing.
‘A burner?’ he said.
The prominence and use of burner phones – disposable devices that aided with anonymity when committing nefarious deeds – were a mainstay of nearly every Hollywood film that had a crime in it.
‘That’s what I guessed,’ Colin nodded.
Adam picked it up, pleased to find that it didn’t have a passcode. Danny probably thought that he and it would never be apart, and so saw no need for added security.
Adam navigated through the menus to the call list, unsurprised to find it empty. Next, he moved to the messages. The sent box was empty but there was a two-word message in the inbox, received at 12:51 a.m.
* * *
I’m here.
* * *
Adam held the screen towards Colin, watching his friend’s eyes as he tried to make sense of the message.
‘So, he arranged to meet someone? I assume that’s when the money was handed over.’
Adam nodded.
‘That would make sense. He took the envelope, checked the money was all there, then went straight to Vicky to flaunt his wad.’
‘Adam!’ scolded Colin.
‘I’m talking about the money!’ replied Adam.
‘So, who sent the message?’ Colin asked, getting back on track.
‘That, Watson, is what we need to find out next.’
Colin closed his eyes and tried to plot out their next move. He also wondered why he was Watson and not Sherlock.
Adam spoke, tearing him from his thoughts.
‘I’ve got something to do here,’ he said, pointing to the pile of printed papers. ‘Can you go and speak to whoever is on reception?
Colin nodded, realising exactly why he was Watson while Adam continued.
‘Find out if the person who was on the desk last night at 12:51 a.m. is about. Ask them if they saw Danny.’
‘Surely he would’ve done his deal in secret, in some hidden corner,’ Colin interjected.
Adam nodded.
‘I would agree if I thought whoever sent that text was already in the building.’
‘You think someone travelled here to give Danny the money?’
Adam nodded again.
‘I do. I think if it was someone who was already here, they wouldn’t have bothered with phones and messages. Too much of a data trail. I think he had to have the phone to get in touch with whoever came here to hand him that envelope. I think, after seeing the phone, that we can conclude that he was blackmailing more than just Sam. We just need to find out who.’
14
A SIGHTING AND A MONSTROUS USE OF BLU TACK
Colin left the bedroom and wandered down the expansive corridor once more. He felt like he’d walked the hallways so many times that, should they need a tour guide in the near future, he would be in pole position for that job.
Once more, he descended the staircase with burning hamstrings, eyeing who was on the front desk as he did so.
It was a dark-haired man. Not the same one who had greeted them with a single key on arrival. This man was a little shorter with a clean-shaven face. Colin watched him converse with one of Emily’s friends, his movements fluid as he took a key out of a drawer and passed it to her at the same time as telling her the directions to her room.
Colin waited until she’d gathered up her suitcases.
Plural.
A lot of luggage for two night’s stay, he thought to himself as she walked away, wheeling one case while hoisting a smaller bag onto her shoulder.
‘How can I help you?’ the man behind the desk said. His accent suggested he originally came from Belfast way.
Colin stepped forward.
‘I’m wondering if you know who was working on the desk last night?’ he said.
‘That was me,’ the man said, extending his hand across the desk. ‘James Miller.’
Colin shook his hand.
‘I was wondering if you saw my friend…’
James’s gaze diverted from him and Colin realised that someone had joined the queue behind him. James smiled at Colin.
‘I think I know what you want to talk about.’ He checked his watch. ‘I’m about to clock off. Why don’t you meet me outside and I can answer some of your questions?’
Colin nodded and stood aside, letting an older lady pass by him. He turned and walked through the huge door, coming to rest on the steps outside. He squinted into the sunlight, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring his sunglasses with him.
Wh
ile Colin was watching the few clouds in the sky drift lazily past, Adam was busy in the room. He moved from table to wall, picking up a piece of paper, pressing some Blu Tack onto the back of it before sticking it onto the wall. Police officers usually had a case board, one that they could wheel about easily and add to when needed, but this would do for now.
When he had exhausted his pile of paper, he stood back and took his creation in. It may not be pretty, but it was already helping him to piece together the case like a jigsaw. He just needed to voice his theory aloud.
For that, he needed his partner.
Colin jumped as James tapped his shoulder. He had been thinking about everything and nothing, lost in the haze and heat of the day. Thoughts worked their way back and forth through his head; stupidity and embarrassment that he’d agreed to undertake the task of detective at all. Every time he had to ask questions, he felt like a boy playing a game with grown-ups who were simply humouring him. On the other hand, he’d managed to uncover definite clues that suggested that Danny was murdered.
James sat down beside him on the step, pulling a cigarette out. He offered one to Colin, who declined, before lighting his own.
‘So, it was you who was working last night?’ Colin asked.
James nodded, exhaling a plume of acrid smoke.
‘We’re always short staffed around this time of year, on account of the parades, which I have no interest in,’ he explained. ‘It means working a late night and an early morning, but I’m alright with that for the overtime pay.’
‘And you thought you might’ve seen my friend who died?’
‘Sorry to hear he was your mate,’ James said, nodding. ‘I’m sure it was him, because I was the one who showed the police to his room this morning. I recognised him immediately.’
‘Why?’ Colin asked. Danny didn’t really have any distinguishing features to speak off; nothing that made him stand out from the crowd.
‘Because I remember thinking last night that he seemed like he was up to something. He was loitering in the reception and when I asked him if he needed anything, he shook his head. He seemed like this bag of directionless energy. Then, his phone rang and he ran outside.’
‘And you didn’t see what he was up to outside.’
‘No,’ he answered, shaking his head. ‘Like I said, we’re short staffed and I’m not meant to leave the desk. I assumed he had gone to meet a girl or something. I didn’t think any more of it until he came in again a few minutes later.’
He stopped to take another puff of his cigarette, which was burning close to his fingers. Colin remained silent, afraid he’d interrupt the thread of the story.
‘When he came back in, he seemed changed. The frenzy of before was gone, replaced with… swagger, maybe,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, he came in with his shoulders rolling, like he thought he was the big man. He was holding an envelope and going through whatever was inside. I was about to ask, because I was worried it was drugs, but he was gone before I could say anything.’
‘Did anything else happen with him?’
‘No,’ he said, throwing his cigarette on the step and stamping on it, before lifting it again. ‘I shouldn’t leave that there. More than my job’s worth!’
Colin thanked him and stood to leave.
‘Oh, one more thing, actually,’ James said. ‘After he put the envelope away, he walked upstairs. I heard him talking to someone, another lad, sounded like a bit of an argument. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, only the tone of the conversation and it wasn’t friendly.’
He stood and began walking towards a red Corsa.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time I got some shut eye.’
Colin’s face fell when he took in what Adam had been up to in his absence.
The wall was covered in paper, pages and pages of it. Pictures of people and a bird’s-eye view of the manor house were connected with pieces of red string.
‘Please tell me you haven’t used Blu Tack to stick that up?’ Colin said.
‘Why?’
‘It stains the wall. I don’t fancy paying some bill to have it cleaned.’
Adam waved his concerns away with a flick of his wrist. He stood slightly to the side of his masterpiece, and Colin saw the glint in his eye that preceded a show. He pulled the chair out from below the table and sat down in front of the mass of paper, feeling very much like a pupil in Adam’s classroom.
Before Adam began, he asked his friend to give him the skinny on what he’d found out from the receptionist. As he relayed his story, Colin thought that the information he was giving was slotting nicely into whatever theory Adam had conjured up in his absence, judging from the look on his face.
‘No CCTV?’ Adam asked when Colin had finished.
His friend’s face fell.
‘I didn’t check.’
‘Luckily, I did. Yesterday. There aren’t any cameras on the exterior and none that I can see in the inside either. Do you want to hear what I’ve come up with?’
Colin nodded.
‘Now,’ said Adam, assuming a theatrical air. ‘I’m not saying this is what happened or anything, only what I’ve managed to piece together.’
He pointed first to the pictures of the people he’d stuck up – profile pictures from Facebook, judging by the varied poses and locations of the photos.
Colin took in the list of suspects.
Sam, the blackmailed groom.
Ross, the twin who lost out on being best man.
Vicky, the ex-girlfriend who Danny had sex with.
Neil, Vicky’s boyfriend who may or may not have known about his girlfriend’s infidelity.
‘I printed these off before finding out about the phone, so my theory has changed slightly. I still think it could be any one of these, but I think they are working with someone.’
‘Who?’
‘Whoever came by car and gave Danny the cash. There’s no way of telling who that is yet.’
Colin mulled it over. It would make sense that whoever handed the money over would be behind the murder. But he knew it couldn’t physically be that person because the receptionist heard them drive away. Could they have teamed up with someone in the house to get their money back and take away any further blackmailing opportunities?
‘Makes sense,’ Colin said, eyes focussed on the wall again. ‘Is there anyone we can rule out?’
Adam considered this.
‘I think we should keep them all in mind at the minute, but Neil is probably the easiest to rule out. The rest were definitely in the house and aware of Danny wronging them in some way. Neil was probably on his way home, oblivious to his girlfriend cheating on him. If only we had CCTV, we could clarify a few things.’
‘I know where we can go,’ Colin said, his eyes widening. ‘But first, get the Blu Tack off the walls.’
15
LIFE THROUGH A LENS
‘We could’ve walked,’ Colin said, watching the blur of hedgerows and sheep out of the passenger side window. ‘It’s really not that far.’
Keeping his eyes on the narrow road, Adam tapped the digital clock in the middle of the dashboard.
‘Time is of the essence, dear boy,’ he said. ‘If someone intends to cancel the wedding through another act of violence, I think they will do it tonight. That means we must act swiftly.’
It sounded impressive, but unconvincing. Adam could feel the withering look his friend was giving him.
‘And it’s hot and I’m lazy, alright. Give me a break.’
Instead of turning left out of the stately home’s long driveway, they’d turned right. Colin had protested that the petrol station was the other way, but Adam had held up an annoying, placating hand without parting with further explanation.
For a few miles they travelled at a steady pace, passing nothing but farms and fields of animals. A dog had chased the car half-heartedly for less than twenty seconds, running out of
steam at the bottom of a small incline.
Eventually, Adam indicated into a driveway and turned the car, travelling back in the direction they’d just come from.
‘I just wanted to make sure that there were no main roads nearby that could’ve been used to access our hotel. When we look at the CCTV, if he lets us see it, we can be sure that coming past the petrol station was the only way to get to the hotel – and to Danny.’
They made their way down the road, past the hotel, and pulled into the empty forecourt of the petrol station, coming to a stop at one of the two pumps.
Adam got out, twisted the petrol cap and inserted the pump. He put some diesel in, mindful of his limited funds, and replaced the pump before walking across the oil-stained concrete and into the building.
A woman with grey, frizzy hair sat behind the counter, separated from the customers by a wall of glass. Her brown eyes were magnified by oversized glasses, lending her a rather comical appearance.
Adam walked up to her with a disarming smile plastered on his face. He slipped a note into the cut-out section and watched her check that it was real by gliding a pen across its surface. Happy, she rang the register and set the note in.
‘Anything else, dear?’ she asked with a smile.
He leaned conspiratorially towards her.
‘I don’t suppose you heard about what happened up at Milton Manor last night?’
Sorrow pulled her features into a sympathetic frown.
‘Yes, dear,’ she nodded gravely. ‘There have been a few youngsters down from there today to buy cigarettes and cheaper alcohol than they serve up at that place. I heard a young boy died.’
Adam confirmed the story with a nod, trying to figure out how to get around to his request. It was Colin who broke the silence.
The Curious Dispatch of Daniel Costello Page 6
