by JL Simpson
“He was at the pub last night with John.”
“Interesting. Were they on a date? Because if they were, John really had me fooled with the whole asking me for a drink thing.”
“I have no idea what they were doing. They certainly weren’t holding hands or groping each other in a corner.”
“If that’s your idea of a date it’s no wonder you can’t find a woman.”
“I can find a woman.”
“But you’re not interested.”
“That’s the idea.”
Daisy chuckled. “Liar.”
“What?”
“I have no idea where you showered this morning, but whoever she was she has very feminine taste in toiletries. Your usual manly scent is missing.”
“Well, give the lady a clap.”
“I don’t want the clap, and if I did, I wouldn’t want it from you.”
Solomon shook his head. “Can we get back to the case?”
“So, Tyler was with John, and he’s the manager of the person who gets money from one of the policies via her uncle’s estate. If John’s involved why ask us to investigate? It makes no sense.”
“Neither does Tyler telling me he has never met Zut before when they were all drinking together at my local last night.”
“Your local? Do I know it?”
“Nope.”
“Where is it?”
“Near my house.”
“You really are a closed-mouth git.”
Solomon chuckled.
Daisy fidgeted in her seat. “Is he still following us?”
“Yes.”
“Where are we going? This isn’t the way back to Southampton.”
“Lunch.”
“Where?”
“Poole.”
“The Quay?”
“If that’s what you want, Princess.”
“I want fish and chips at that place on the waterfront.”
“Then that’s what you’ll have.”
“I would kiss you, except I’m almost out of toothpaste.”
“Thank God for small mercies.”
*
Daisy moaned with pleasure as the battered cod melted in her mouth. “God, this tastes so good, and look at the view.”
She glanced out the window and watched the boats bobbing up and down on the swell the wind was whipping up in the harbor.
Solomon leaned back, sipping his glass of Diet Coke.
The black Mercedes followed them all the way to Poole, but as they’d parked at a multistory behind the High Street and walked, it wouldn’t have been easy for Tyler to follow without being seen.
Daisy glanced out the window. “Do you think he gave up on us and left yet?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Why do you care if he was following us anyway? It’s not like he doesn’t know how to find you. He has your card.”
“I’m not concerned about me, Princess. If we went back to Southampton he might decide to hang around until you’re alone, or follow you home. This way he’ll get bored and bugger off. Remember the arm?”
Daisy’s stomach turned over, and she pushed her half-empty plate to the side. “Thanks for reminding me. This P.I. business is a great diet plan.”
“Eat up. I like to watch you enjoy food.”
“Why? Because you can’t?” Solomon had consumed a very unappetizing-looking green salad with a serving of grilled haddock.
“I never met a woman who ate with such orgasmic pleasure.”
“What?”
“Most women don’t get as excited or moan as much during sex as you do when you eat.”
Daisy stabbed a chip with her fork. “You must be doing sex wrong. I’m not so much in love with food that I pull a sex face over it. Except for chocolate. Now chocolate could definitely be worthy of an orgasmic moan and a sex face.”
Solomon smiled.
Daisy smiled back. “Thanks.”
“What for?”
“Looking out for me. And taking my mind off the…thing.”
“Careful, Princess. You’ll be saying you like me next.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
Daisy stabbed another chip, ignoring the pool of ketchup, which definitely looked unappetizingly like blood. “So, where to from here?”
“Back to the office. You’ve some more research to do.”
Chapter Twenty
Daisy sighed, and rolled her shoulders. She’d been slaving over a hot computer all afternoon looking for connections between Zut, John, Jason, and Maureen. She’d done a timeline of where in the world Maureen had performed based on her official Facebook page and fan sites. Zut’s band was a little harder to track, with much of the detail coming from advertising by venues where they played. The band had only been formed three months ago, and there were big holes in their history. However details on a former band, and Zut’s solo career, had been a little easier to find.
“I think Maureen and Zut met at a music festival in Germany back in February.”
Solomon glanced up from his own computer screen. “Music festivals are huge. Were they on stage together?”
Daisy shook her head. “Nope.”
“Keep looking.”
She checked a few more links. “Apparently Zut and the Newtonians performed at a pub in Burley last night. Do you live in the New Forest?”
Solomon shrugged.
So, he lived in yuppy heaven. He must be making serious cash as a P.I. if he owned a house in Burley. She glanced at him. He was probably rocking the P.I. image and had a whole wardrobe of the Armani suits he seemed to favor and kept a sports car tucked away in his thatch-roofed garage.
Funny, she thought a large studio apartment with clean lines, steel and chrome everywhere would be more his thing than a cute country cottage. Perhaps he had a pretty wife and lots of baby Solomons stashed in the country. Although a happily married Solomon was unlikely, especially as some crazy bitch had been in the office screaming about him only the day before, and Daisy couldn’t imagine him cheating.
Her phone rang. She checked caller ID, but it said number withheld.
Solomon stepped up behind her. “Who is it?”
“Dunno.”
He held out his hand, and she gave him the phone. If it was the nutter who left the arm in her car she didn’t want to talk to him. She also didn’t want to think about how he could have her number.
Solomon accepted the call and held the phone to his ear. “Hello… She’s here… No problem.”
He handed her the phone. “It’s Dan Maloney.”
Daisy put the phone to her ear. “Dan?”
“I have some news about the owner of the arm. Any chance you can put this on speaker so Solomon can listen in?”
“Sure.”
She did as he asked and placed the phone on her desk before turning to Solomon. “Dan wants you to listen in.”
“We’ve got some more information about the arm. After checking missing persons we matched the tattoos to a twenty-year-old man from Manchester. We need to get a DNA sample from his parents, but I’d be surprised if it was anyone else.”
Solomon sat on the edge of Daisy’s desk and leaned toward the phone. “Who is he?”
“Michael Martin. His family said he went to London looking for work, but they haven’t heard from him for a month. He called home every Sunday, and when he didn’t phone, and they were unable to get a response from the emergency mobile they paid for, they reported him missing. From the discussion we’ve had with our colleagues at Scotland Yard, it seems he was moving from hostel to hostel and left London a week ago to try his luck down south.”
“Is he dead?” Daisy asked. Perhaps he’d been in an accident and the arm had to be amputated. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate. The man had barely lived.
“The tests done on the arm say it was cut off postmortem. Solomon, it had been frozen.”
“Fecking hell. What have we walked into?”
Daisy glanced up at Solomon
. His blue eyes had turned to steel, his jaw tight. “What don’t I know?”
Solomon shook his head. “Anything else, Dan?”
“No. I think you’ve got the picture. Have you got anything to share?”
Solomon blew out a breath. “I’ve got some suspicions about a Suetonius Ackroyd-Smyth. Otherwise known as Zut Smith, of the band Zut and The Newtonians. I’ll email you what we have. Any plans to offer Daisy protection?”
“Why do I need protection?”
“Solomon, can you explain the details? I can’t afford the manpower to watch her twenty-four seven, but I can get a patrol car to drive past her house as often as they can overnight. Paul needs to know she might have a murderer on her arse.”
Solomon nodded. “Fine. Leave it with me.”
Daisy couldn’t breathe. She grabbed the edge of the desk as the office began to blur and fade around her. A murderer? A murderer?
Her vision contracted to a pinprick, her chest burned as she fought for air, her stomach ached. She barely acknowledged her chair being yanked away from the desk or the warm hand on the back of her neck.
“Head down, Princess. Breathe, darlin’. Slowly…in…out…in…out. That’s my girl.”
Head between her knees, Daisy concentrated on the warm Irish brogue. The almost hypnotic tone and the rhythm of Solomon’s instructions slowed her breathing until she could draw air without pain, and her vision returned.
He removed his hand from her neck, and she slowly lifted her head, wary that the feeling might return. Solomon was squatting beside her. He smiled and pushed a loose curl of hair behind her ear. “That’s it, Princess. Are you back with us?”
“Hello?” Dan’s voice filled the office.
Solomon reached out, grabbed her phone, and put it to his ear. “Sorry. Daisy didn’t react so well to the news. How about we wrap this up? I’ll send you what we have, and then we can talk some more.”
Dan must have agreed. Solomon ended the call and put the phone back on the desk. “How about a cup of tea?”
Daisy gripped Solomon’s arm. “What was Dan talking about?”
“I’ll make us a cup of tea, and then we can talk about it.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Don’t worry, Daisy. No matter what, you’re safe. I would die before I’d let anything happen to you.”
His expression was solemn. She didn’t doubt his sincerity, but Solomon’s behavior was odd and strangely disturbing. She could handle trading insults, and even being polite, but he was morphing into a man she’d never met before. A man she could actually come to like.
“And all this time I had you down as a selfish git who only cared about himself and what he wanted. I never imagined you hid a desire to play knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress. Perhaps I should be offered protection against your charm offensive.”
Solomon lifted the corner of his mouth in a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry yourself, Princess. I’m not interested in seducing you. I’m just worried your old man will kick my arse.”
*
Solomon leaned against the countertop waiting for the kettle to boil. How had things got so bad so quickly? He thought getting Daisy to search for a missing heir would be a waste of time and drive her away; instead it had led to her becoming the focus of attention for a murderer.
Daisy wandered into the kitchen. “Did you go to Ceylon to pick the tea leaves?”
He glanced at the kettle, steam poured from the spout. It must have boiled while he was thinking. “Sorry, miles away.”
She pulled a chair out and sat watching as he took mugs out of the cupboard and made the tea. He shoveled sugar into one of the cups.
“Jeez. Someone has a sweet tooth. Why eat all that healthy crap, and then fill yourself up with sugar?”
Solomon lifted both mugs of tea. “It’s not for me, Princess.”
“I don’t take sugar in tea.”
“You do today. It’s good for shock. Shall we?” He nodded toward the door and waited for her to lead the way back to the office. Once she was sat at her desk he passed her the sweet tea. Leaving his cup on the edge of her desk, he crossed the room and locked the front door.
“Now drink up while I get things organized.”
“What things?”
“You’ll see.”
He grabbed a whiteboard from behind the cupboard and set it up on an easel stand next to Daisy’s desk. After a quick search of his drawers, he had a whiteboard eraser and three different colored markers.
He took a mouthful of tea and rolled his shoulders. “Okay, Princess. We’re going back over what you’ve been doing since Monday. I need to know who you’ve met, and what they know about what you’re doing.”
Daisy put her cup down with a grimace. “What did Dan mean? What don’t I know?”
Solomon inhaled and blew out a breath. “I met Dan the other morning to ask him to look into some information about the insurance scam. We got to discussing the case he’s working on.”
“What case?”
“Two dead bodies have shown up in recent weeks. Young men. The killers went to a deal of trouble to try and hide their identities. They were both homeless and found semi-frozen.”
“Like the arm.” He watched the color drain from her face.
“Do you think I’ve met the killer?”
“Drink the tea, Daisy. I don’t want you keeling over again.”
She did as he said. After placing her cup on the desk she stared up at him, her green eyes vivid in her pale face. “I have, haven’t I? I’ve met whoever’s killing the poor bastards. Fuck.”
“No idea, but we’ve definitely rattled someone’s cage. Someone we’ve spoken to in the last few days knows something.”
She put her hand over her mouth and her huge eyes filled with tears.
If she fell apart now he had a feeling it would be the end of her for the day. They didn’t have time to waste, and if she wanted to work in this business she needed to toughen up. “Don’t you be crying again. I won’t be able to stand the nagging about my lifestyle if I have to ask my cleaner to launder two shirts to get rid of makeup this week.”
Daisy glared at him. “Heartless git.”
He smiled. “As may be, but I’m the heartless git that intends to find out what the feck is going on, and you’re going to help me. So, let’s get back to work.”
“Shouldn’t we just let Dan deal with it?”
“We’ll share our thoughts with the cops, but I can’t sit back and do nothing.”
“Because you want the money?”
“Because I promised Paul I’d look out for you, and so far I don’t appear to be doing a very good job. Although keeping you out of trouble would require the attention of more than one man.”
“I don’t go out looking for trouble.”
Solomon chuckled. “Of course you don’t, Princess.”
“Git.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Daisy stared at the whiteboard. The list of people who knew what she was doing was longer than she expected. Belinda, Cherry, Levi at the music shop, Zut, and she’d forgotten about Clive Lewis. Not to mention the principal of Langdon College.
Solomon tapped the bottom of the black marker against his chin. “Okay, so we have your list and mine.”
He was much more closed mouth. Other than John, the only other people on his list were Maureen and her manager, Jason.
After taking a mouthful of tea that must be almost cold, he stepped closer to the board and selected a blue marker. “Points of connection.”
“What?”
“Who knows who and how?”
“Levi knows Zut, because he put me on to him.”
Solomon drew a line between them and added the number one next to it before writing the connection as a footnote at the bottom of the board.
“Zut knows John and Jason, and John and Jason know each other.”
Solomon drew more lines, but the footnotes for those connections were a question mark.
&nbs
p; “Maureen might know Zut.”
Solomon drew the line. “She knows him. We just need to find out how. We also know Zut is connected to Langdon College.”
Another line was added to the board with the footnote former student.
He glanced at her. “What about Clive Lewis?”
“What about him?”
“You worked for him?”
“Not for long.”
“What do you know about him?”
Daisy shrugged. “Not much. He’s a lawyer who specializes in crime. He mostly seems to work for the Maroni family.”
“Maroni? Organized crime Maroni?”
“That would be them.”
“Shite. And you never thought to mention this before?”
“Why would I?”
Solomon got busy writing notes on the white space on the right-hand side of the board.
“What are you doing now?”
“Adding a list of things we don’t know.”
“How can you list what we don’t know?”
“You’ll see.”
“And then what?”
“Then we’ll send what we do know to Dan, and come up with a way to find out what we don’t know.”
Solomon finished writing and stepped back. Daisy got to her feet and stood next to him. He’d added some names in red. Three she recognized as the men whose deaths were being investigated by the insurance company, and one was Lord Mardon. Michael Martin also made the list. Another two just said missing, homeless, mid-twenties. In all there were seven dead bodies, counting the owner of the arm.
Tobias and Elliott Wareham’s names were in the center of the board, along with the Somerset Club. Lines now flowed from name to name, resembling colorful spaghetti.
Daisy grabbed the black marker and added Gilbertson and Bolton, under Langdon College. They might not be connected, but they’d met as part of her investigation, and that boy Gilbertson was a thug.
Solomon pulled his phone from his pocket and took a picture. “I’ll send this to Dan.”
“That’s quite a list of what we don’t know.”
She read the list which included: Is the Ackroyd-Smith who belongs to the Somerset Club connected to Zut? Are Lord Mardon and/or his sons connected to the Somerset Club? Find connection between Jason and John, find connection between Zut, Jason, and John, and find connection between Maureen and Zut. Try to find any points of connection between deaths being investigated by the insurance company and others on the board. Check if Lord Mardon had a life insurance policy. Research Clive Lewis to see what connections he has to anyone else. Who is the father of Maureen’s baby?