Ghost Light Killer

by Dahlia Donovan

“We’d be shoving our noses too far into the investigation. So far we might get them cut off. Don’t be a daft twit.” Dannel jostled Osian to the side to avoid barging into a woman struggling down the sidewalk with her three children. “We’ll see Archie and Wayne at the dinner party tonight. I’m sure they’ll tell us all about the visit to the police station without having to risk Haider’s ire.”

  “Fine.” Osian paused on the corner, waiting for several cars to go by and then jogging across the street with Dannel. “Remember the old doorman at the theatre?”

  “Chester?”

  “Lester?”

  Dannel stopped walking and tried to think back to the cheerful old bloke who bore a striking resemblance to Santa, complete with a long beard and round tummy. “Bob.”

  “You sure an ‘ester’ wasn’t involved somewhere?”

  Dannel snickered with Osian. “Maybe not Bob. Something benignly normal.”

  “Brigham Green.” Osian stopped in the middle of the pavement. “That was his name. I remember now. We always teased him about being a puritan.”

  “Yes, Brigham. Completely normal-sounding name.” Dannel tried to remember when they’d seen him last. “Where’d he go after retiring?”

  “No idea. I do know he liked walking his dog in the same park as Adelle and Stanley. Why don’t we have a peek on the way home? Maybe he’s there.” Osian intertwined his fingers with Dannel’s while they continued walking. “I’m thinking he might have some theatre gossip for us. He’s still coming by the Evelyn Lavelle to help Ian from time to time and knows absolutely everyone.”

  Dannel paused for a second, trying to recall something Evie had told him once. “Didn’t Brigham and Birdie have an affair once? Like ten years ago or something?”

  “Maybe he’s Archie’s real dad.”

  “Brigham isn’t ginger.”

  “Well, he’s grey-haired now. He might’ve been ginger in a previous life.” Osian occasionally had a far too vivid imagination. “Seriously, though, maybe it’s not Archie’s relationship causing the problems. Maybe it was Birdie’s. We could ask. You should ask him.”

  “Don’t throw me in front of the firing line for awful questions. I am not going to ask Archie about his mum’s sex life.” Dannel shuddered. Is there a more awkward topic of conversation? Probably. “Why don’t we see if we can find Brigham? Maybe we can find a subtle way to fit Birdie into the conversation.”

  “Us? Subtle? Sure.”

  Eleven

  Osian

  At school, Osian had found nothing more boring than doing research for a paper. He’d done better with practical over theory. As an adult, he thrived in falling down Wikipedia rabbit holes while exploring a subject for their podcast.

  “Want to go to the Adelphi?” Osian stretched his leg out to kick Dannel lightly in the side. “Quit ignoring me.”

  “I’m trying to solve this puzzle.” Dannel had been playing a new game for hours. He was starting to tense up out of frustration. “I’m so close.”

  “You’re close to rage quitting. Hit the save button. We’ve got a little over an hour before we need to leave for the dinner party. Do you really want to get all wound up right now?” Osian waited patiently for Dannel to mull his advice over. “Tomorrow, though. Want to go with me to the Adelphi theatre? I want to see if we can spot William Terriss’s ghost. And get a few photographs for the podcast thumbnail.”

  “William Terriss?”

  “Think the 1800s version of Errol Flynn. He was murdered at the stage door by a fellow actor in 1897, who barely got a slap on the wrist. Terriss’s ghost supposedly haunts the Adelphi and the Covent Garden tube station.” Osian typed out a few notes in a Word document. He thought a deep dive into the case might prove fascinating enough for an entire podcast episode of its own. “There’s a twisted history between the two.”

  “Isn’t there always?” Dannel saved his game and tossed his controller onto the sofa with a disgruntled groan. “Did Stanley text you about Brigham?”

  “They haven’t seen him in a few days.” Osian finished up his thoughts for their next podcast, hit save, and closed his laptop. “What are we going to do about Ian’s ghost?”

  “Compel him to stop?”

  “I only cosplay as John Constantine.” Osian stretched out on the sofa, trying to work the kinks out of his back. “I’m not sure I can fight off a real paranormal being.”

  “Did you say real and paranormal in the same sentence with a straight face?”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “Nope.” Dannel dodged the pillow Osian chucked at him. “We’ve got the cameras set up now. Chris gave us access to the live feed. All we can do is watch and see.”

  Dressing for a dinner party mostly involved flinging socks at each other until the room looked like a fabric octopus had been segmented in a strange horror film. Evie interrupted their battle. They had to rush to finish changing in time for their Uber.

  They had the driver swing by Abra’s building to pick her up. She brought a fresh batch of strawberry jelly shots, a heady combination of berry gelatin with lime margarita mix and tequila. Osian had a feeling they’d arrive at Wayne’s swanky flat already quite sloshed.

  The football chants started five minutes away from the flat. Chelsea versus Tottenham, of course. Abra and Osian enjoyed needling Dannel and Evie about their club. He had no doubt the poor Uber driver was happy to be shot of them by the time they’d starting singing Frank Lampard’s praises.

  “Think we made a friend.” Osian watched the car drive off as quickly as possible. “He won’t be taking a ride from our place ever again.”

  They sang their way up the elevator and down the hall. Osian wondered how many complaints Wayne was going to get from his neighbours. We don’t even have a decent excuse for our raucous behaviour.

  “Are you lot quite finished trying to get me evicted for noise complaints?” Wayne bundled them into the flat. “We’ve got a boatload of pizza. Eat something. How do you get sozzled on the drive here?”

  “Tequila on an empty stomach. And we’re not ‘sozzled,’ you posh prat.” Abra squeezed by them into the flat and immediately went straight for the spread of food on the table. “I’d say we’re giggly if anything.”

  “Rolly.” Osian waved at Dannel’s younger brother, who appeared to be setting out plates. How adorable. “How goes the detecting?”

  “It’s Roland.” He was so easy to rile up. “And I’m not a detective yet.”

  “Do you have monogrammed towels yet?” Osian asked when Roland fished around in a nearby cabinet for glasses. “Should we have the talk with Wayne, so he doesn’t break your poor heart?”

  “Osian.” Roland pointed a folded napkin at him, which only served to make him laugh uproariously. “Must you do this? Neither you nor Dannel have bothered any of my previous dates, whether man or woman.”

  “Yes, but Wayne’s your one true love. The unrequited love you dreamed about at uni,” Osian teased.

  “I hate you.” Roland pointed a fork at him. “Oi. Dannel. Retrieve your person so I don’t have to chuck him out a window.”

  “Fairly certain the police frown on chucking people out windows.”

  “They’d make an exception for you.” He returned to spreading out the pizza boxes. “Think we’ve got enough?”

  “To feed an entire army?” Osian counted at least twelve boxes. “We can always order more. Is everyone coming?”

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Archie arrived, followed surprisingly by his boyfriend, Niall. Well, well, well, what an interesting development. Have they forgiven mutual accusations of murder? Or was that a diversion?

  The more true crime Osian researched, the more suspicious of people he became. Archie had never shown himself to be devious. But he’d also been off travelling to discover himself.

  Maybe he’d discovered an inner murderer.

  Dannel snuck away from the various introductions and sidled up to Osian, who was watching Ar
chie and Niall across the room. “Weird, right?”

  “Distinctly,” Osian agreed readily. “Who apologised to whom?”

  “No idea. They could’ve arrived separately but come up in the elevator together.”

  “I doubt it. No way Rolly or Wayne invited him on his own. They came together. It’s weird.” Osian thought both men appeared tense. “We’ll see if we can get the others to separate them without being obvious. You can ask Archie what’s going on while I prod Niall to see if he loses his temper again.”

  Though, given their standoffish body language, Osian wondered if they’d even need to prod Niall. The couple might’ve arrived together, but they seemed to have a permanent wedge keeping them at least slightly apart from one another. No touching, not even by accident. As if they were maintaining the façade of a relationship, yet fractured sufficiently to make it impossible to show genuine warmth.

  And the mood between the two seemed almost frigid.

  “Dannel?” Roland waved his brother over to where he’d been trying to decide what music they were going to pick.

  With the brothers busy, Wayne disengaged from his conversation and joined Osian at the table. He nodded his head toward the kitchen. They stepped inside, and Wayne shut the door behind him.

  “I’m not interested in boyfriend swapping.” Osian held a hand up in front of him. “You’re not my type.”

  “Male?”

  “Posh prat with a swanky flat.” Osian grinned.

  “And whiny paramedic with a podcast isn’t my type. Now we’ve got that out of the way.” Wayne rolled his eyes. He went over to the fridge to retrieve two bottles of wine. “Listen, attorney-client privilege means I can’t discuss details of what happened at the police station.”

  Odd.

  I haven’t even asked yet.

  Osian tried to decipher what Wayne was trying to dance around. “Right. I’m aware. You were my solicitor.”

  “Niall isn’t my client.” Wayne put an emphasis on specific words. “He showed up at the interview much to my surprise to offer his support. Archie apparently texted him out of stress.”

  “Did he now?” Osian didn’t think he’d be willing to stand by someone who’d recently accused him of murder. “Suspicious, considering the amazing row I witnessed between him and Arch. Well, to be fair, maybe not suspicious, but it’s odd.”

  “Be careful, all right?” Wayne rested a hand on Osian’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’d tell you to not get involved but when have you ever listened to my advice?”

  “I listen.” Osian had certainly taken Wayne’s advice during his brush with the police. “I do. Quit laughing at me.”

  For an evening fraught with the potential for drama, Osian found himself highly disappointed. Niall and Archie portrayed a loving couple in the midst of a mild disagreement perfectly. Neither of them opened up even the slightest despite his best attempts.

  Chris hadn’t shown. A work emergency of some sort. Abra shoved a handful of ice down Osian’s back to stop his teasing about being stood up. I might’ve deserved that one.

  The party broke up after midnight. Abra and Evie headed off together, intending to join mutual friends at a dance club. Archie and Niall slunk off soon after, ignoring Osian’s offer to share an Uber.

  “Here. We’ll help clean up.” Dannel shoved Osian toward the mess in the living room. “Grab the glasses. I’ll take the plates.”

  “So, what have we learned?” Roland joined them in the kitchen, helping wash while Dannel dried. “Wayne can’t share his thoughts, but if I were one of the detective inspectors on the case. I’d certainly be keeping an eye on both Niall and Archie.”

  “Even Archie?” Osian didn’t want to believe the worst of a friend and fellow paramedic, someone who’d dedicated much of his time to helping others. “The gentle ginger giant? Who’s discovered his inner peace and twig tea?”

  “Ossie.” Dannel motioned for him to set the plates in the sink. “Maybe Niall did it and Archie’s covering for him? He might not want to lose his mum and his boyfriend at the same time.”

  “How long has this bloke even been in his life?” Roland sounded as suspicious as Osian felt about Niall. “Months?”

  “Love at first sight?” Wayne eased into the kitchen with his arms filled with empty boxes of pizza. “I officially have no comment on the subject.”

  “Maybe.” Osian doubted love had anything to do with it. “Birdie thought Niall cheated on him.”

  “Birdie wouldn’t have taken anyone hurting her son lightly.” Dannel handed another dish to his brother to dry. “We should’ve asked more questions.”

  “Oh. Now you want to ask questions. You told me not to be pushy.” Osian helped Wayne stack the dry dishes.

  “You were rude.” Dannel shrugged.

  “Yeah, Oz. Rude.” Roland smirked over his shoulder at Osian.

  “Shut it, Roly Poly.” Osian headed out into the living room to pick up a few stray utensils they’d missed. He returned to find Dannel on his own. “Abandoned in your time of need?”

  “They’re snogging.” Dannel wrinkled his nose. “Not something I want to see my baby brother doing.”

  “He’s twenty-seven and a copper.”

  “Do you want to watch your baby sister snog her husband?”

  “Fair point.” Osian didn’t want to think about Olivia snogging. She might be a tiara-wearing Boadicea, ready to conquer the world, but some things a brother didn’t need to see. “Did you hear Niall mention his plans for tomorrow?”

  “Flat hunting.”

  “Wonder if we can accidentally run into him. Ask a few pointed questions.” Osian decided to text Archie in the morning to see if he’d spill the beans on his current or ex-boyfriend, whatever the case happened to be. “Ready to go home?”

  Dannel tossed the tea towel onto the counter. “Sure. They’ll be ages.”

  They made their way out of the flat, making sure to yell out their goodbyes. Osian dragged Dannel into a snog of their own once inside the elevator. He didn’t mind giving the CCTV operator a tiny thrill.

  Dannel stepped out of the elevator and froze. He dragged Osian around the corner. “Niall and Archie. They’re still outside.”

  “What?” Osian peeked around the corner. “We were upstairs for ages after they left. How have they not gone home?”

  “Ossie.”

  “You wanted me to be less subtle.” Osian ignored him, stepping out and striding out of the building. He put on a bright, cheerful face when Archie and Niall stopped talking. “Hello. Fancy meeting you here.”

  “I was just leaving.” Niall jogged off down the street, leaving Archie to stare uncomfortably after him.

  “Something I said?”

  Archie shook his head and sighed heavily. He shoved his hands into his pockets, kicking at a stray pebble on the ground. “Hard to repair your relationship when you accuse each other of murder.”

  “True.” Osian wondered if Archie was having second thoughts. “Do you think he’s innocent?”

  “Dunno.”

  “Does he think you’re innocent?”

  “Dunno.”

  Osian rubbed his forehead. He’d had a little too much wine and not enough sleep to deal with relationship troubles when a murder was in the mix. “Maybe you should figure out if he’s guilty before you shag him senseless in your mum’s flat.”

  “Ossie.”

  Twelve

  Dannel

  The following morning a hungover Osian dragged himself out of bed to meet up with his mum and stepdad for breakfast. Dannel slept in until insistent knocking woke him up. He trudged to the front door, fully prepared to have a go at whoever had interrupted his lie in.

  “What the devil did you tell Archie last night after I left?”

  Dannel blinked blearily at Niall. How’s he know where we live? “I’m in pyjamas. Why are you shouting?”

  Niall was silent for a full minute. “Sorry.”

  “Coffee.” Dannel didn’t wa
nt Niall in their personal space. “Wait here.”

  Shutting the door in the bewildered Niall’s face, Dannel retracted his steps to the bedroom. He changed quickly out of his pyjamas into his workout gear since it was handy. I can do this. Ossie practised questions with me. Inside voice, just remember to use your inside voice.

  Count the eye contact. Several seconds, then look away. Don’t make it odd.

  Inside voice.

  No matter how hard Dannel tried, he always struggled at knowing how loud his voice was. It had led to many embarrassing moments over the years. Talking too quietly or practically shouting without being aware. It frustrated him.

  He adjusted his T-shirt and sweatpants, shoving his feet into his trainers. They’d get a coffee. He’d ask questions and then go for a run to release the tension, hopefully avoiding another meltdown.

  Not the way Dannel had intended to spend his morning. He had several emails he needed to respond to along with a query on a commission. One of their friends wanted a set of armour similar to one from the video game Thief.

  Dannel had never played the game, but he’d seen screen captures. Sleek, dark leather armour. It was an almost stereotypical roguish style. He thought he had the skills to handle the design she wanted.

  “Took you long enough,” Niall grumbled when he opened the door again.

  “Coffee,” Dannel repeated. He stepped out of the flat, rolling his foot slightly to get his trainer on properly. “Who are you?”

  “Niall Bishop.”

  “Yes, but who are you?” Dannel wanted more than a name.

  “Travel vlogger.” Niall followed him down the stairs. “Photographer. Run a YouTube channel all about hiking on a budget.”

  On a budget.

  The few times Niall had been around, he’d worn nothing but high-end clothing. He wore shoes Dannel had seen one of the solicitors at Wayne’s office have. Expensive ones. They probably cost more than his paycheck as a firefighter.

  “Did your mum and dad leave you money?” Dannel couldn’t stop the question. “I can’t imagine travel vlogs make enough money for swanky shoes or the gear required for hiking. Archie saved up for ages to kit himself out for a year of travel.”