Albert summed up what they were all thinking. ‘It’s enough to want to kill for. If you close the event, the killer will vanish. If you assume the money is the motivator behind at least the second death, then tomorrow the killer will be here trying to win it.’
‘Or threatening yet more lives,’ countered Detective Sergeant Heaton. ‘If you are right,’ he hit the word ‘if’ hard to make a point, ‘then you are inviting the shark back to prey on more unsuspecting bathers.’
The chief inspector was the one who would have to make the decision and Albert knew it was a tough one so stayed quiet and hoped while he watched the man’s face. On one hand, Albert knew he was right about the killer vanishing if the event was forced to cancel by the police. They could do it easily by just declaring the venue a crime scene. Politically, it was shaky ground, but if he didn’t close it and someone else died …’
When he looked up, his eyes were on Albert. ‘Your name again, sir?’
‘Albert Smith.’
The chief inspector was nodding his head, reaching a decision. To Heaton and Calin, he said, ‘Get back to the station and interview your suspect. If Botham is
guilty, I want a confession, it may change the scope of our investigation. If he won’t confess, you need to be certain in your conviction that he did it.’ The detectives had their orders and the burden of proving their suspect was involved fell to them now. Swivelling his whole body to face back toward Albert and Gary, the chief inspector nodded his head in their direction. It wasn’t two civilians he was talking to, one of them was a serving senior officer, who could at any time, if he so chose, pull rank and be a pain. That he hadn’t done so demanded respect. ‘Thank you for your help this evening, gentlemen. Most especially you, sir,’ he dipped his head directly at Gary. ‘I have to ask that you vacate the area now so my team can do what is necessary. Tomorrow, I will have officers working in plain clothes at the event. My understanding is that you will both be there?’
‘That’s correct,’ replied Gary, trying not to sound upset about it.
The chief inspector pursed his lips in a moment of thought. ‘I will tell them to identify themselves to you. You clearly have keen eyes for trouble, but I must ask that if you spot anything, you inform my officers.’ He focussed his eyes on Gary. ‘I’m sure you understand, sir, how much easier it will be if the local officers make the arrests.’
Gary raised a hand in submission. ‘Have no fear, Chief Inspector, I never planned to get involved in the first place.’
That was half an hour ago now, Gary insisting they left the venue immediately after they concluded the business with the chief inspector so they stood the slim chance of making it back to the bar for last orders. His fantasy of a night hogging the television remote was gone, so too his father’s plans for a bath.
‘How are you feeling, Dad?’ Gary asked as he placed his almost empty pint glass back on the table.
Albert went for the honest answer. ‘A little fatigued, son. I should have quit hours ago.’ It would be easy to slip into a cycle of moaning about the various parts of him that either ached or didn’t work the same way they used to. Instead, he shot his eldest child a grin and flipped his eyebrows. ‘It’s nothing a few hours’ sleep and a good breakfast won’t sort out in the morning.’
Gary picked up his pint again hoping that might be true.
Squirrels
Rex awoke to the sound of something outside the window. It sounded suspiciously like squirrels, a menace which had blighted his life for as long as he could remember. The need to chase the twitchy, fluffy little blighters was hardwired into his DNA at such a base level, he never once thought to question it.
They needed to be stopped, that was what he knew.
His human was still asleep though the first tendrils of dawn were piercing the gloom outside. Rex couldn’t tell what time it was, but it felt like an appropriate time for him to be allowed out for a walk – he had business to attend to. Breakfast was high on his agenda too.
Normally, all it took to wake his human was sitting next to the bed and breathing in his face. Occasionally, it was necessary to give his face a lick, but the old man always seemed to disapprove of that strategy and would then be grumpy for an hour or more.
Before Rex could do either, the noise from outside the window came again, this time making him want to investigate it.
The thick curtains were drawn to keep the light out, but Rex ducked his head under and then up the other side to look out. It took three attempts because the hem of the curtain, which were floor length, kept covering his eyes. Finally able to see outside, it was lighter than he expected, which meant they had slept in longer than intended. That was secondary behind the squirrel now watching him through the window with an acorn in his paws.
Rex bared his teeth.
The squirrel twitched his tail, which Rex took to be a taunt. His paws twitched on the carpet; he wanted to get to the squirrel. It was in a tree, a large oak with thick branches, one of which ran perpendicular to the window, stopping just a foot or so shy where
