The Dublin Murder Mysteries: Books four to six

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The Dublin Murder Mysteries: Books four to six Page 70

by Valerie Keogh


  Then he was in the car and swerving out onto the road, his eyes flicking to the time, swearing softly under his breath as he was stopped at every traffic light on the way. Usually a careful driver, he sped through amber lights and broke the speed limit most of the way home. Despite this, it was still 7.30pm as he pulled up outside his house.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, pushing open the front door.

  Edel came from the kitchen. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress he didn’t remember seeing before, her feet bare, hair loose around her shoulders. ‘Bad day?’

  ‘A long day,’ he said. ‘You look beautiful.’

  Her smile melted all the stress of the day away. ‘We don’t need to go out. There’s pizza in the freezer, we could have that.’

  ‘No, we’re going out,’ West insisted. He pulled off his tie and hung it over the bannisters. ‘There, casual gear, I’m ready to go.’

  It drew a chuckle from her. ‘Right, let me put on shoes and grab my coat.’

  ‘We’ll drive,’ West said. ‘We can leave the car in the car park and get a taxi home. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t mind not drinking,’ Edel said. Dropping her shoes to the floor, she slipped her feet in. ‘Ready.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ he said and opened the front door.

  ‘How is the investigation going?’ Edel asked as he drove the short distance to the restaurant.

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it over dinner,’ he said. ‘It had Peter talking about Edgar Allen Poe, put it that way.’

  ‘Quoting Arthur Conan Doyle and now talking about Poe! What have you done with the Peter Andrews I know and love?’

  The restaurant car park was busy but West squeezed his car into a tight spot in the corner. ‘Here we go,’ he said, putting an arm around Edel’s shoulder. ‘We’re only twenty minutes late.’

  ‘I hope we get the table in the window.’

  ‘Oh, that’s been organised.’

  ‘Really?’ Edel squeezed his arm. ‘Clever man. I never remember to ask.’

  In fact, not only did they have a table at the large bay window overlooking the marina but theirs was the only one there. Edel sat on the chair the waiter pulled out for her and looked around in surprise. ‘I wonder why they moved the other table away.’

  ‘It’s nice to have more privacy,’ West said. He met the eye of the owner who was standing behind and gave a silent prearranged signal. Almost immediately, an ice bucket holding a bottle of champagne arrived and two waiters appeared, tall candleholders in each hand that they placed between their table and the other diners. Then they lit the candles.

  Edel’s eyes flicked from the candles to the champagne. ‘What is going on?’

  ‘Wait and see,’ West said with a grin. He held up a hand and suddenly the background music that had been playing stopped and into the silence fell the heart-warming sounds of a violin. The violinist drew closer and stood on the far side of the candlelight.

  The stage was set. West got to his feet, moved closer to Edel and dropped to one knee. ‘The first time wasn’t very romantic. I thought, this time, I’d do it better.’ He reached into his pocket for the ring box. ‘Will you marry me, Edel?’ He opened the box and watched as her eyes widened.

  She shook her head, then laughed, pulled the fake ring from her finger and tossed it onto the table. ‘Yes, Mike, I’ll marry you.’

  West stood to a chorus of whoops and cheers from the other diners and because it seemed to be expected, he pulled Edel into his arms and kissed her. There were more cheers and some bawdy suggestions but once West took his seat and there wasn’t more excitement, the other diners’ attention returned to their own companions and dinners.

  The violinist played once more, then he too, left them alone. Edel held her hand out, the diamond sparkling in the light from the candles, and asked, ‘How did you know?’

  He wanted to tell her that he loved her so much that her slightest worry was clear to him, that he would go to any lengths to keep her from being hurt, do anything to make her happy. Instead, he reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it. ‘You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of trifles.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Poe?’

  West laughed. ‘Sherlock Homes.’ He quickly filled her in on Andrews’ role in getting her ring back.

  ‘I owe him,’ she said, tilting her hand to admire it.

  ‘We both do. But now,’ West said, putting down his glass, ‘wait till you hear about our latest case. The Case of the Headless Bodies.’ He laughed at her expression and reached for her hand, brushing his thumb against the back of it. Then, in the romantic candlelight, he told her the details of the grim tale with her eyes sparkling as much as the ring on her finger.

  Crime – it had brought them together and had nearly broken them apart. He’d keep chasing the criminals, she’d keep writing her crime stories and maybe together they’d solve the puzzles of the strange crimes that were sure to come in the future.

  Because they’d come… of that he was certain.

  * * *

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  Details are often adjusted for the sake of a story – the Mater Hospital, where I trained as a nurse years ago, has many departments and probably far more than were there in my day – but as far as I’m aware it doesn’t have a department of anaplastology.

  Grateful thanks to all at Bloodhound Books, especially Betsy Reavley, Fred Freeman, Tara Lyons, Heather Fitt, Clare Law, Ian Skewis, and the wonderful cover design team.

  As usual, a big thank you to my brother-in-law, retired Detective Garda Gerry Doyle for assisting me with some of the details of the Garda Síochána – as ever, mistakes are mine alone.

  Thanks to Lynda Checkley for the use of her name – I hope she enjoys being the ‘baddie’!

  A huge thanks to the writer Jenny O’Brien who is generous with both her time and support and who helped me pull this book into shape.

  To other writers in the writing community who make this such a fun job – all of my fellow Bloodhound writers, plus the writers Leslie Bratspis, Patricia Gitt, Mary Karpin, Pam Lecky, Catherine Kullmann and Jim Ody.

  We writers would be lost without the wonderful support of readers, bloggers and reviewers, thanks to every one of you.

  A big thanks to all my friends who help celebrate each new book.

  And finally – the foundation of everything I do… my amazing, wonderful family – husband, sisters, brothers, in-laws, nieces, nephews, grand-nieces, grand-nephews, and cousins.

  * * *

  I love to hear from readers – you can find me here:

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/valeriekeoghnovels

  Twitter: @ValerieKeogh1

  Instagram: valeriekeogh2

  A note from the publisher

  Thank you for reading this book. If you enjoyed it please do consider leaving a review on Amazon to help others find it too.

  * * *

  We hate typos. All of our books have been rigorously edited and proofread, but sometimes mistakes do slip through. If you have spotted a typo, please do let us know and we can get it amended within hours.

  [email protected]

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