The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 David Carter (autobiographies to read txt) 📖

slowly healed and vanished. They’d all receive bravery commendations, especially Jenny, and well deserved they were too.

In truth, it wasn’t a funeral at all.

There were no limousines and no service and no programme, and no favourite songs and no prayers and no happy memories of a cherished person, now departed, not even a vicar mumbling words. The Chief Constable had suggested the ashes be sprinkled over the lawned garden anonymously, and the sooner the better, and with as little fuss as possible, and that explained the time, and the place.

None of the team wanted that, no one there at all, hence their attendance. They stood in a short line on the path overlooking the grey frosted lawn, Walter, Darren, Karen, Jenny, and Mrs West, Walter holding before him a small urn of ashes. Feminine footsteps could be heard approaching, echoing along the path in the cold still air, and that set the rooks off again.

The humans turned to look.

Corla Revelation nodded a slight morning greeting as she approached. She looked smart too, in a good quality long black coat, black hat set at a jaunty angle, and matching shiny shoes.

‘Who the hell told her the time and date?’ muttered an irritated Mrs West.

‘Not me,’ said Walter.

‘Nor me,’ said Jenny.

‘As if,’ said Karen.

Darren snorted and shook his head.

‘Hello, Corla,’ said Walter, as she joined them. ‘How did you know the time and place?’

‘Really, Walter. Do you still doubt my powers and gifts?’

‘You mean, you saw the time and place in your mind?’

‘I’m here, aren’t I? What more proof do you need?’

She smiled gently up at Walter and took her place beside him.

Mrs West had no time for such nonsense.

She said, ‘Top brass have suggested no service and no prayers for the deceased for the shame he brought on the Force. I suggest a minute’s silence for contemplation and reflection. After that, Walter, if you would be so kind as to do the honours.’

‘Ma’am,’ he said, flicking his wrist and checking his overlarge watch, as the second hand set off.

That minute took ages.

It began to snow harder, large dainty flakes slowly falling from the dark grey sky, blanketing the lawn, whitening everything in seconds. The rooks started up again. Caw! Caw! Maybe in protest at the heavier snow, or the mixed bunch of people below out earlier than usual, on their garden of remembrance.

And then it was over, and Walter stepped a pace forward onto the whitened grass and removed the top from the casket, and turned and handed the lid to Darren. Walter glanced at each of them in turn. Mrs West nodded him on, anxious to be finished and out of there. Walter turned back to the front and shook ashes from the urn. A dollop fell before them onto the snow. He shook again. A larger amount spilt out, just as a squall came through and picked up the tiny grey cloud, and dispersed it across the frosty and lightly dusted lawn. Another shake, and the casket was empty. Hector Browne had vanished.

They stared down at the strange smudge in the snow, the last sign that DC Hector Browne had ever existed. By noon, the winter sun would be sufficiently strong to burn off the frost and snow, and even the smudge would vanish.

‘Okay,’ said Mrs West, lightly clapping her gloved hands together. ‘That’s everything, best foot forward,’ and she stepped out, Karen beside her, making small talk, heading back toward the cars. Darren and Jenny exchanged glances and fell in behind. Corla linked Walter’s arm and said, ‘Hope you don’t mind escorting me.’

‘Of course not. Why did you come?’

‘I read in the press all the good things he did. I guess I felt a little guilty.’

‘About what?’

‘About saying I was glad he was dead. I no longer think and feel that, just sad and sorry he did the things he did.’

‘We all feel that way, but never forget this: He murdered two women in cold blood, that’s the most important thing. They are where the sympathy should lie.’

‘And he’d have murdered me too if he could.’

Walter nodded and muttered, ‘Quite possibly.’

Corla shivered and said, ‘There’s something else I wanted to mention.’

‘Oh?’

‘I hope you don’t think this an inappropriate moment.’

‘Go on.’

‘Do I still qualify for the reward?’

‘Ah, maybe not the right time to discuss that right now.’

‘Yes, you’re right, of course. Will you ring me sometime, let me know what you think?’

Walter nodded and said, ‘Sure, I’ll ring you,’ and he glanced back over his shoulder at the smudge in the snow. The rooks were there, looking busy, pecking and investigating, maybe sensing an early breakfast. They’d be disappointed. The smudge was already dissipating. Hector Browne was no more.

Back at the cars, Mrs West, Karen and Darren jumped into the first one, as Walter offered Corla a lift back into town.

She smiled and nodded and said, ‘That would be great.’

‘I’ll drive,’ he said, glancing at Jenny’s sling.

‘Thanks, Guv,’ she said, carefully getting into the back, and the cars rolled away, and Hector Browne’s life was over, though he would always be remembered, but for all the wrong reasons.

A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER Walter checked out the reward thing. As far as he was concerned he would have been happy enough for Corla to receive something, for she certainly set them on the way to closing the case, but the man who put up the cash, one Gareth Williams, solicitor of the parish, pointed out that as there had been no successful prosecution, he didn’t deem it appropriate that any payment be made. Knowing the man, Walter wasn’t surprised, and it fell to him to break the news to Corla.

He picked up the phone and prodded in her number.

‘Can’t say as I am surprised,’ she said, before adding, ‘I can put curses on people, you know.’

‘Not on me, I hope.’

‘No Walter, not on you. Never.’

‘While I’m here, there is one other matter.’

‘Yes?’ she said, unable to keep a note of expectancy from her voice.

‘I can’t turn my eyes