by Emily Selby
Origami, Odium, and Old Sins
Emily Selby
Copyright © 2018 by Emily Selby
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book and the entire series is set in England and written using British English spelling, punctuation and some vocabulary.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Also by Emily Selby
1
Katie Redford closed the door to the meeting room behind her with much less force than she wanted to. Her heart was as heavy as the silence filling the empty hallway of The Sunny Corner Hotel. Mr McBride, the hotel owner had refused to pay her last wage but had offered her "an alternative."
Katie shook her head.
Either the hotel was in financial trouble, which was hard to believe given the number of guests and conferences they'd hosted over the previous couple of months. Or, there must have been something wrong with Mr McBride.
Probably, the latter. He'd arrived to meet her fifteen minutes late, looking flushed, short of breath, and distracted. Granted, with the urgent boiler repairs scheduled for that morning, it must have been a stressful day for him, but offering an under-the-table payment to a police clerk? The boiler drama must have taken a toll on Mr McBride's sanity.
Ah, the repairmen. Katie winced at the memory of the ear-splitting clatter of the tools spilling on the tiled floor in reception.
When she reached the reception area Katie discovered the two men in overalls were gone. They had probably found Amanda.
Amanda, the hotel’s main daytime receptionist wasn't at her desk. Strange. Why had she sent Katie an urgent message to come and see her and then disappear like that? Was she also dealing with the boiler repair drama?
Katie crossed the lobby and leant on the reception counter, stretching her neck. No, Amanda wasn't in the back room either. She needed to call her.
Katie reached in her handbag when a piece of paper on the counter caught her eyes.
Amanda's to-do list.
Katie scanned the items:
- Check if all guests left the hotel
- Record a new message on the answerphone
- Set up the out-of-office reply for the reception email address
- Check the clean linen storage room
- Catch up with Katie.
All but the final two items remained unchecked.
She must have gone to the storage room.
Katie sneaked past the counter and headed for the back door leading from the little office to a service area, which was also accessible from the backyard. A waft of fresh, spring air hit her face as she descended the few steps. The double door leading to the backyard stood ajar. The white van with the boiler company logo glimmered in the mid-day sun. The clink and bump of working plumbers streamed from the room further to her right.
Katie pushed the door leading to the clean linen storage. It opened smoothly, letting Katie enter a cool, dark space, smelling of fresh laundry and ... burnt?
Something glinted in the shaft of light. Katie stepped forward. Her heart fluttered.
A dark, elongated shape lay on the floor.
She gulped and shuffled backward, towards the wall. She stretched her arm and her fingers skitter over the cold, granular surface of the wall, searching for the light switch. Her heart hammered somewhere in her throat, her mouth was paper-dry.
Where’s the darned light?
Her fingers tripped against the hard, smooth square of plastic. A second later the bright glow filled in the room. Katie took in the sight in front of her and wobbled.
She pressed her back to the wall. Her hand flung to her mouth, stifling the moan pushing through her lips.
Amanda's body lay in the middle of the room, unmoving.
'Amanda,' Katie's croaked. 'Hello. Are you okay?'
There was no reply.
Katie pushed herself away from the wall, inching forward. Her legs trembled. A cold bead of sweat rolled down her temple.
'Amanda?' Katie asked and gasped, spotting a small, dark handgun by her colleague's right side.
Is this really happening?
Katie took a deep breath, steadying herself. She crouched by the lifeless body, clad in her work uniform suit: a dark blue trousers and a white blouse with the hotel emblem of a rising sun. She pushed aside a strand of blond hair, uncovering the woman's cheek, and her right temple.
A ring of dark burn surrounded a small hole, filled with a dark, sticky substance, which had dripped and smudged the skin and hair around it.
Katie's heart froze and then broke into a gallop.
On instinct, she reached for Amanda's wrist but, of course, found no pulse.
Shaking and holding back the tears pushing into her eyes, Katie clambered to her feet. She rummaged through her handbag and fished out her phone.
Thank goodness she had the emergency number on fast dial now. Even though she had been through the same routine several times, it hadn't become any easier. This time, it was made worse, far worse, by reporting the death of someone she knew. A colleague and a friend.
Waiting for the connection, Katie waded back towards the entrance and leant against the doorframe, her back to the gruesome scene. Fresh air hit her face again.
'Hi, it's Katie Redford. I'm at the Sunny Corner Hotel, in Sunnyvale. I've just found a body...'
After the operator hung up, Katie disconnected. She watched the darkening screen, rolling her shoulders back and forth. In anticipation of the report she would have to provide to the police soon, Katie recalled her movements from the moment she parked her Nissan Micra in front of the hotel, to the discovery of Amanda's body.
She tapped the messages icon and re-read Amanda's final message:
"Talked to AM. Hope all goes well with your chat. Come and see me afterwards - got something urgent to tell you."
Katie had received it at 12.30 pm that day. From what she could tell, nothing indicated the events to come.
She should probably call Jack as well. Of course, the operator would let the Regional Serious Crime Unit know, but at this moment, she needed to talk to him, not as DI Jack Heaton, but as her boyfriend.
She dialled his number, but the line was busy. No doubt, the emerg
ency operator was already doing her job.
Katie scrolled through the list of contacts and pressed the number for the local police station. Her friend, Sergeant Chris Fox was on morning duty when she’d left the office a little past midday.
More than at any other time after discovering a dead body, Katie felt an urge to talk to a friend. Someone who could help her make sense of it.
Why would Amanda Jones shoot herself shortly before she was due to talk to Katie about something important?
What did she want to talk about?
Was it linked to her death?
2
Blue lights flashed in the backyard. Katie relaxed her neck and dropped her mobile into her handbag. Gee, she'd been holding it tight all the time from finishing her brief conversation with Chris.
A siren wailed twice and died. The police car parked.
'Everything okay?' a hoarse voice cut through the tense silence. Katie's head jerked to the left. A grey-haired man in dark blue overalls with the logo of the boiler company gave her a sharp nod.
'Oh, well... sort of.' Katie mumbled. 'The police are coming, don't worry,' she added, noticing the man's face furrowing.
'If you want us to finish this dreaded job today, it'd better not delay us.'
Ah, what a shame ... it'll certainly be ...
Katie smiled as reassuringly as she could, trying to telepathically send the repairman back into the next room.
The man glanced at her suspiciously, and then retreated.
Katie took a deep breath.
Mr McBride would be even grumpier, now with a real reason to avoid paying his employees. The hotel would have to remain closed until the boiler system was fixed.
No, scratch that. The hotel would have to remain closed until the crime was resolved.
No, scratch that. It might not be a crime. Maybe it was a suicide.
She needed to leave this judgment to the police. The broad-shouldered Sergeant Chris Fox walked through the double door. Katie waved.
'Hi Chris, she’s in there.' She pointed at the room behind her and stepped aside.
'Heaton and the forensic team are on their way,' Chris said grimly, walking past her. 'Has anything been moved?' he asked.
Katie still refused to turn around and face the room again.
'Don’t think so. I haven't touched anything,' she said quickly.
'A shot fired from close range, very likely a contact wound,' Chris said. 'Weren't you friends? Did she seem suicidal to you recently?'
'Not at all,' Katie replied, forcing herself to turn slightly to the right, allowing her to see Chris checking on Amanda's body out of the corner of her eye. 'On the contrary,' Katie replied. 'She was keen to meet with me.' She told him about the text message.
'Did you hear the shot?'
'No. How long has she been dead?'
'Her skin’s still warm. Looks like she’s been dead less than half an hour.'
Katie checked her watch. 'Do you mean she shot herself around 1.10 - 1.15 pm?'
'That's my guess. Where were you at the time?'
'In the meeting room, waiting for Mr McBride. He was running late.'
'Interesting...' Chris said slowly, heaved himself off his knees and glanced at her. 'Who else was in the hotel at the time? Lots of people, I gather.'
'No, not at all. All the guests had to check out before nine am this morning. We're closed today for the boiler repairs.'
'So apart from Amanda, you, and Mr McBride who else is in the building?'
'As far as I know, two repairmen. One older and one younger, probably an apprentice. They're in the boiler room, next door. They were by the reception desk at the estimated time of death.'
Chris gave her a long, curious look. 'How do you know, and why are you so sure?'
Katie shrugged. He should have known by now that Katie had learnt to be very attentive to her surroundings as a result of her recent involvement in multiple murder mysteries.
'Because I saw them. There was an awful noise, the younger one dropped the tool box and its contents spilled. I stepped out to check what was happening. It was between 1.10 and 1.15 pm. I checked my watch.'
'Interesting...' Chris said again. 'Was there anyone else at reception?'
'No,' Katie said. 'Amanda wasn't there. She wasn't there when I arrived a little before one o’clock. Mr McBride came to the meeting room about 1.15 pm, maybe 1.17 pm., looking in a rush.'
'Did he say where he'd been?'
'In his office, and according to what he hinted at, checking on the state of the bank account and his safe.'
Chris drew his eyebrows together. 'Why?'
'Probably because I was going to talk to him about the money he owed me. But you need to ask him for details.'
'I shall. Once someone else's arrives and I can leave this room.'
Katie took a deep breath, giving herself a gentle nudge. She had to face the scene!
'Have you found anything else interesting?' she asked, moving her head a little more to the right, still not entirely ready to look at Chris, let alone Amanda's body.
Her eyes stung. She blinked to push away the tears.
'Yeah, she has a piece of paper in her hand,' Chris said quietly. He held a crumpled sheet of notepaper in his gloved hand.
Katie's heart skipped a beat. 'A note?'
'It looks like a suicide note,' Chris replied. 'It reads: "I can’t live with the guilt. It was all his idea".'
A large lump popped open in Katie's throat. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands.
'Hey, sorry about that, Katie.' She heard Chris' voice just beside her. His hand rested on her shoulder. 'She was your friend, wasn't she? I'm sorry for your loss.'
Katie took a steadying breath and reached in her pocket for a tissue.
'A colleague and a friend,' she said, after wiping her face. 'She was such a nice and helpful person.'
'Did she appear sad or stressed recently?'
'As I said before, not sad, but stressed - yes. Actually, when I think about it now, she's not been herself since about midday on Friday. She looked distracted. And then, on Saturday morning, she was quite upset. She gave me a little gift just before we finished - we both worked long day. I didn't see her on Sunday. It was our day off.'
'Why was she upset?'
'No idea. She was quite a private person. Although she appeared happy and optimistic, I think it was a front. Whatever was going on in the inside, she kept hidden.'
'Not someone easy to read?'
'Not really,' Katie replied, quickly scanning the gruesome scene on the floor again, 'but how did she get the gun?'
'That's a good question,' Chris replied, his face furrowing again. 'This is a historical gun, part of a collection. She must have stolen it.'
'Stolen a gun?' Katie shuddered. 'Why would she? And who from?'
'To end her own life, of course,' Chris replied. 'As far as your other question is concerned, it won't be hard to find out. There are only a few collectors in the area.'
Katie glanced at the scene again. This time, her eye caught a sight of a dark object with a shiny handle, made of what looked like polished wood and a long barrel.
'It looks different from what's on the TV,' she said. 'But I think I've seen it before.'
Chris touched her forearm. 'Have you? Whereabouts?' he asked her eagerly.
Katie turned her head to look at Chris again with a relief. But now, she was facing a difficult dilemma. 'I don't want to throw a suspicion on an innocent person...' she said slowly. Innocent was a word that didn't come easily in this case.
'Who was it?' Chris pushed, staring intently at her.
'Mr McBride. I came to talk to him on Friday and I saw him locking something similar in his cabinet. Back then I didn't pay much attention to it. I was too preoccupied with my own thing.'
'If it's his, it's illegal. Well, even if it's not his, he shouldn't have it in his possession.'
Katie stared at Chris. 'You really n
eed to talk to him.'
'I do. As soon as I'm freed up, which will be very soon,' he added, looking at the double door.
The white, unmarked van of the forensic team was pulling alongside Chris' car, and a familiar silver Vauxhall stopped behind it.
The help had arrived. Katie relaxed her shoulders.
3
'Katie, are you okay?' Jack greeted her with a sad smile. He put his arm around her shoulders, and Katie allowed her forehead to rest on his chest for a couple of seconds. Even though their relationship was official now, she didn't like to display too much affection in public. And now, all she wanted was to leave the hotel as soon as she could.
'I've told Chris all I could think of that might be useful,' Katie said quickly, sliding out of Jack's embrace. 'Can I do the formal statement later?'
'Of course,' Jack replied, guiding her out of the room to the hallway, and letting the two people in white overalls enter the storage room.
'When did you last talk to her?' he asked quietly.
'Last Saturday. We left work about 3 pm. We haven't spoken since, but I had a message from her this morning.' She gave him a brief summary.
'Who is AM?' Jack asked.
'Mr McBride. She was going to talk to him. Something to do with her night audits. She offered to discuss my case. McBride still hasn't paid me yet.'
Jack's face furrowed. 'That's bad. You may need to take it further.'
'I'll try to deal with it informally first,' Katie replied. 'Do you think she's killed herself?' she added.
'I’ve just arrived, Katie. Give me a chance, but so far, it looks like a suicide.'