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

Quickly, he lowered his hood, removed his glasses that had steamed up from the change in temperature, then adjusted his eyes to the bright lights of the station.

Sandip spotted his mother standing by the reception desk, deep in conversation with an officer. She seemed tearful and distressed. With an uneasy feeling, he approached the reception desk.

“Mum, what happened?” He pulled her into his arms.

A female officer busied herself with paperwork behind the desk. She glanced from him, back to his mother, then the computer screen, continuing to release his mother.

“It’s Chelsea, she’s dead. They found her yesterday, probably thought I had something to do with it.” she sobbed in his arms.

“Shit,” Sandip whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

The female officer handed Manisha her handbag and coat in a clear plastic bag.

Manisha picked up a pen and signed her name to claim her things.

Sandip felt like he was being watched. He glanced over his shoulder, and locked eyes with Dunne, who was leaning against a desk.

“Sandip, just a second,” Dunne called out.

Releasing his mum, he walked over to Dunne and stood at the other side of the reception desk just out of earshot of his mother.

“I guess your mum told you about Chelsea?”

“Yeah, she did.”

Sandip sized Dunne up. “I was with her all evening—all night, like she probably told you already, right?”

He knew the games officers played, and he knew full well what he was doing—what was needed. Re-affirming his mother’s alibi took top priority. He knew she would have given the police the details of last night, so all he had to do was confirm them.

Dunne looked Sandip squarely in the eye, then smirked.

“Right, of course she was.” Dunne glance over his shoulder in his mother’s direction. “Did she seem okay? She said she went to bed early. What’s up with that?”

“Ahh, ya know, emotions. C’mon, Detective, she lost her husband. The only man she’s ever loved, and there’s no one to account for his death. What do you expect? She’s hardly in a social mood these days.” Sandip glanced back towards his mother. She sat on the plastic bench sobbing and picking at her nails.

Dunne followed his gaze, then sighed. “All right, I’ll be in contact if anything else comes up.”

“She’s never done anything to Chelsea,” Sandip protested. “Never would.”

“I didn’t say she did, Sandip. I’ll be in contact.”

Dunne turned on his heel without so much as a goodbye and left Sandip rooted in the same spot.

“Come on, Mum, let’s go,” Sandip called out, then looked over his shoulder one last time.

Dunne kept watch, sipping on a drink by the water cooler station.

Sandip didn’t need to hold the detective’s gaze because he felt the intense doubt radiating from his accusatory stare. Coaxing his mum to stand, he helped her with her coat, and then handed her a tissue.

27

Conspiracy Theories

Detective Dunne

“Sorry about that. I wanted to catch Sandip before he left.” Dunne entered his office.

McDonald sat patiently with a file open on his lap. “No worries.” He snapped the file shut.

“So, this is where we’re at.” Dunne stood in front of the board, staring at pinned pictures of Manisha, Chelsea, and Lance.

“Yep, Lance put Chelsea in the picture, uhm . . . over Tony’s death.” McDonald tapped the file on his lap. “And Manisha—”

“We ruled her out originally. So far, she still seems in the clear.” Dunne smoothed his short hair back. “Now, Chelsea’s dead. So, we can’t pin her down on the accusation Lance made.”

“True.” McDonald got to his feet, refilled his coffee mug, then pulled out a fresh cup for Dunne. “But doesn’t that leave Lance in the clear or imply he’s not guilty.”

McDonald sat the mugs down, then joined Dunne over by the board.

“It’s an accusation yes,” McDonald said. “But he admitted they both had an interest in Tony’s money. His death would have been music to both of their ears.”

Dunne cocked an eyebrow at Tony’s mug shot. “Agreed. Now she’s gone.” He pointed to Chelsea’s picture. “We have two murders to close. Hers and Tony’s. He’s still in a holding cell, so we know he didn’t take Chelsea out.”

“Why would he want her dead though? It’s not in his interest really, is it?” McDonald sipped his coffee and narrowed his eyes at Lance’s picture on the board.

“Maybe so she didn’t talk. What if he did kill Tony and didn’t want her to accuse him or confirm it,” Dunne theorised.

“It’s likely. But he’s had no contact with anyone from the time we remanded him up until now.” McDonald pointed over to the pictures on the wall. “Chelsea died within the time he’s been in the lockup.”

“He could have placed a hit on her. I looked at his phone records, he and Chelsea had been in contact, in fact, the day we released her after questioning, they talked,” Dunne stated.

“Very possible then. Maybe she told him that she had been pulled in, and he got wind of what was going on, then organised her murder?” McDonald pushed further, as if he had read his partner’s mind. He refilled the mugs, crossed the room, placed one down for Dunne, then took a seat.

“That’s my thinking, yes.” He took the mug and took a sip.

McDonald leaned back in his chair and considered the possibilities some more.

“Okay, say that’s what happened, how did Chelsea’s murderer get into her apartment? My money’s still on Manisha, she said she has access to her late husband’s properties.”

“Hmm, the alibi, she was with Sandip. It’s possible, but that alibi is tight,” Dunne responded. He moved his gaze from McDonald back to Manisha’s picture. “He confirmed it too. I spoke to him as his mum was booked out—their stories matched.”

McDonald smirked. “I’m sure he did. Okay, what do we have? The murder weapon found at one of the properties Chelsea was the new owner of, but no prints. Now, she could very well have been part of Tony’s death. Just a shame we never got to question her again before someone