A Well-deserved Murder (Trevor Joseph Detective series) Read Free Page B

the house had become no more than a place to eat, sleep, and get drunk in after a day’s work. And, given his immediate neighbours – an increasing source of irritation.
    The light was switched on outside the garish shed his neighbours had erected on their monstrous oversized deck. It had been deliberately placed to shine directly into his living-room, necessitating yet more expenditure on thicker blinds and curtains. He parked his car in front of his drive. Since he’d erected a five-foot fence between them, he rarely bothered to open the wooden gates and put his car in the garage.
    He stepped out, locked his car and went inside, heading straight for the kitchen and the fridge-freezer. Taking a can of lager from the fridge, he opened it, poured it into a glass and walked up to the woodland patio he and Joy had sat out on almost every spring, summer and autumn night – until their neighbours had built their edifice overlooking it.
    He tried to ignore his neighbours’ deck as he walked down to the fence that backed on to the woods but it proved impossible. The halogen lamp glared, blinding him. He recalled all the summer evenings he and Joy had sat out here, sharing a bottle of wine and watching the wildlife in the woods. No foxes or badgers would go near that light. It was as though the idiots next door were hell-bent on despoiling and tainting everything around them. Petty, ugly people leading petty ugly lives.
    He looked at the illuminated decking in front of the shed his neighbours grandly referred to as a “summer-house”. There was a pool of red on the planking. It stood proud, in glaring contrast to the blue and yellow painted wood. Something was lying on it, something pale … white … tendrils of dark hair spattered with black and red globules … an axe …
    The images knitted together forming a picture. He reached for his mobile and dialled 999.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    ‘He is adorable. I can’t wait to have one of my very own.’ Daisy Sherringham tenderly stroked the cheek of Trevor and Lyn Joseph’s two-month-old son with the back of her finger as he lay in her arms.
    ‘That can be arranged. But it will take time and effort,’ Peter Collins said dryly.
    ‘He’s not so adorable at four in the morning,’ Trevor complained. ‘We haven’t had a night’s sleep since he arrived.’
    ‘Who wants sleep?’ Lyn leaned over Daisy’s shoulder and gazed at her son. ‘You’re gorgeous aren’t you, Wumpelstilskin? You’re goochy goochy gorgeous …’
    ‘Do you think women ever gooed like that over us?’ Peter asked Trevor as they watched Lyn join Daisy in blatant baby adoration.
    ‘Trevor, perhaps, but not you,’ Daisy answered. The telephone rang. ‘Goodnight, Trevor. Don’t wake me up when you come stumbling in at four in the morning, Peter.’
    ‘Who says it’s work?’ Peter topped up his glass from the bottle at his elbow.
    ‘Who else would it be at this hour?’ Daisy answered. ‘But look on the bright side; at least we managed an entire dinner party this time. Don’t worry, Peter, I can travel home in a taxi by myself. I’m a big girl now.’
    Trevor picked up the receiver. ‘Trevor Joseph.’ He frowned as he listened. ‘I’ve had a couple of drinks. Send a car and driver. I’ll be with you as soon as it gets here.’
    ‘Trouble?’ Peter looked at him.
    ‘Could be. Want to come?’
    ‘Don’t I always?’
    ‘Might be interesting.’
    ‘Why?’ Peter shrugged on his coat.
    ‘A body has been found in the street where your friend the journalist lives.’
    ‘He’s my cousin, not friend. I had lunch with him today and all he did was complain about his neighbours. Perhaps they stole one thing too many from him and he finally snapped.’
    ‘I hope you’re joking.’
    ‘You didn’t hear him go on – and on – and on – about them.’
    ‘Let’s look at the evidence before we start on the theories, shall we?’ Trevor kissed Lyn and dropped a kiss onto his baby’s head.