The Note (Unsolved Mysteries Book 1) Kim Knight (an ebook reader TXT) 📖

headed out to her car, double checking she had the keys to one of the houses that Tony owned. It had been empty since the tenant moved out just before her husband was murdered. She’d organised to collect a few things they had left there. His floosy, the one who he had left his entire estate to, had welcomed her to take whatever she wanted from the house.

Before she and Tony had separated and long before he was found dead, they were in the process of preparing to sell it. That would’ve been money Manisha would have welcomed in their bank account if his side piece hadn’t gotten there first.

She unlocked the car and sat behind the steering wheel. She glanced at the rear view mirror, staring at herself.

“How could he,” she said again, “you betrayed me Tony! In the worst way.”

Manisha slammed her hand against the wheel. The couple were still legally married, it hurt that not only had he started seeing Chelsea a younger woman, but he had also placed her as the beneficiary of his estate. No, our estate She thought. When her, and the children found out her mouth hit the ground. She was aware of the affair but made out she had no clue about Chelsea. The real bombshell was that her and the kids were cut out of his will, this sparked fury all around.

Pushing the bitter thoughts to the back of her mind, she started the car’s engine, put the car in gear and made her way over to the empty house.

One hour later, Manisha turned the key in the lock. She took a deep breath, not sure how to handle how she felt about entering what should’ve been her property.

The door jammed slightly with all the uncollected mail.

Bending down to retrieve it, she flicked through each piece. Pizza flyers, grocery store advertisements, and offers on local services, nothing really of importance. She placed the mail on the table in the hallway, then made her way into the main living area.

Everything’s untouched, just as I remember it, she thought to herself, and glanced around the room.

She ran her finger over one of the tables, dust an inch thick lifted off and stuck to the tip. Her skin crawled because she was never one to like an untidy home. She removed her jacket, then searched for some cleaning products.

After an hour, Manisha took off her rubber gloves and looked around pleased.

The few boxes of items she had packed up, sat on the table. She picked them up, loaded them into her car, and then set off, keen to see what news Detective Dunne had for her.

Back at home Manisha left the box of items in the boot of her car and hurried inside.

Shit. I’ve got to get rid of everything before they arrive, she thought to herself.

She fumbled around with key in the lock. Once inside, she firmly closed the door behind her, then locked it from the inside.

The last thing I need is Sandip walking in, the thought set her on edge.

Sandip was her eldest child. Sanita, her daughter, had immigrated to Australia with her husband, shortly after she had married.

Manisha headed straight into the kitchen and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves from under the sink. Paranoia set in, weighing heavy on her shoulders.

If they’re carrying out more enquiries, they may want to look around the house, she reasoned with the logic she had made up in her head and decided it was a possibility.

She pulled the latex over her hands.

Better safe than sorry, a sigh escaped her lips. I can’t afford any mess ups.

Quickly, she unlocked the door to the back garden, then dragged the ladder into the house. With a struggle, she secured it, so she could climb up to the attic.

With a flashlight in hand, she slid the door to one side, then pulled herself in.

Manisha knew exactly what she was looking for. She flashed the light around the small space, then headed over to the trunk pushed back into the far corner. Inside, she pulled out a large envelope, and a small bottle of arsenic.

“Hmm . . . she got to you before me. It’s a shame you changed that bloody will.” She placed the envelope and poison in a bag.

Balancing the items as best she could, she headed down the ladder and secured the latch to the attic behind her.

In the kitchen she, slid out the contents of an envelope.

Pictures of Tony and his floosy, who she refused to refer to as Chelsea, fell out along with the business card of the private investigator she had hired.

Yes, she had played the role of the innocent wife who knew nothing of her husband’s extra marital affair. The whole family and police fell for it. The truth was, her suspicions were confirmed by the investigator she had hired to follow Tony.

The affair had enraged her. It was at that point, she decided her only interest in Tony was his money, and the new life she could create with it. The problem was he didn’t want to immigrate from London and enjoy the later years of their golden years.

Once Chelsea appeared, she hoped to finish off what she had started—Tony’s slow death with arsenic, which of course, would appear to be ‘natural causes’ due to his cancer that had already developed.

Maybe I was greedy, she thought. Perhaps, I should have just been satisfied that he had cancer and was due to die anyway . . . rather than speed it up.

She ran her gaze over a picture of Tony and Chelsea hand in hand. One thing she never expected was for Tony to get so pussy-whipped, he’d cut her and the kids out of his will.

Something didn’t seem right, and for that, she blamed Chelsea.

Tony had loved their son and daughter as much as she did, and he loved her too, she was sure of it, deep down, even if at times, he had beat her.

She flicked her eyes