Secrets of Death Read Free Page A

nervously. He wasn’t supposed to be so observant. That would never do.
    ‘Do
you
think Roger Farrell has done a bunk, Diane?’ asked Callaghan as they left the pub.
    ‘No, I don’t,’ said Fry. ‘He just isn’t the kind. He’s the sort of man who’ll try to brazen things out to the end. He’ll turn up somewhere. I’m certain of it.’

3
Day 2
    Well,that was really odd. Not the ideal start to the day. Marnie Letts sighed irritably as she pulled on the handbrake. And it wasn’t even Monday. Those were the worst days of the week. She always felt ill when she woke up on a Monday. Nothing was actually wrong with her. It was just knowing that the rest of the week stretched ahead.
    Marnie had been the first to arrive at work that morning, which was unusual in itself. On every other day Shirley was already at the visitor centre before her, with the lights on and the kettle boiling in the kitchen.
    Six months ago, Shirley had been appointed manager at Heeley Bank Information Centre, and opening up was part of her job. She unlocked the doors in the morning and locked up again at night. If the burglar alarm went off in the early hours of the morning, Shirley got the call-out. That was why she was paid more. Marnie didn’t even have a set of keys. And that was the way she liked it. She wouldn’t have wanted the responsibility – not for just a few pounds extraevery month. She certainly wouldn’t want to get called out in the middle of the night. She had better things to do with her time. If that was what promotion meant, the likes of Shirley Gooding were welcome to it.
    So Marnie sat in her little Nissan in the staff parking area and listened to the news as it came on the radio. She was tuned into Peak FM and they didn’t waste much time on the headlines. Their listeners were more concerned about traffic alerts – the latest closure on the motorway, the length of delays on the A61, a reminder of the temporary lights in Baslow, where visitors were already queuing to get into Chatsworth.
    Marnie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she listened. None of it was relevant to her on her drive out of Edendale to the visitor centre. She lived on the Woodlands Estate, close to the northern outskirts of the town, and she always took the back roads to reach Heeley Bank. They were narrow and winding, but always quiet. Just a few farmers on tractors, a herd of cows on the way back to the fields from milking. Who wouldn’t prefer a commute like that?
    She frowned when she noticed the car. She recognised it as a BMW. One of her neighbours on Sycamore Crescent had one. It was always left out on the street in everyone else’s way, and she’d often had bad things to say about BMW drivers. One night, someone on the street had keyed the paintwork, so she obviously wasn’t alone.
    This one was neatly parked and undamaged, though – unlike the condition of a stolen car that Marnie had seen abandoned here a few months ago. The BMWsat in the car park under the shade of the trees on the banking above the river. There had been a bit of mist overnight and the car was covered in condensation. In a few minutes’ time, the sun would reach it and the moisture would begin to clear.
    Marnie hesitated, looking round at the entrance but seeing no sign of Shirley. That was typical of her. When there might be a problem, she wasn’t there. It could wait until she arrived, couldn’t it? Shirley was the manager, after all.
    But something made Marnie open her car door and walk across the gravel towards the BMW. The car was sitting there silently, mysteriously. It seemed to be drawing her towards it. She believed very strongly in fate, always read her horoscope in the newspaper every morning. She was a water sign, Scorpio, and was led by her instincts.
    Her footsteps sounded unnaturally loud in the early morning air. She moved confidently at first but found her feet gradually slowing of their own accord as she approached the car. She could see