Free The Skeleton Room by Kate Ellis

down.’
    ‘Without letting us know?’ There was menace in Heffernan’s voice.
    ‘I said I knew the local lads here so it’d be all right.’
    ‘What makes you think that, then?’
    Marchbank didn’t answer.
    At that moment Steve Carstairs appeared at the office door and hesitated. Then he put his head down, scurried in and sat at
     his desk.
    Heffernan opened the door to his office and indicated by a jerk of the head that Harry Marchbank should step inside. He didn’t
     want the whole office to hear what he had to say.
    ‘You come in and all, Wes. Whatever he has to say for himself he can say in front of you.’
    Wesley followed them in reluctantly. He didn’t want to get involved in old office enmities but it looked as if he had no option.
     As Marchbank sat down Heffernan glowered at him from the other side of the desk. The newcomer ignored Wesley, who perched
     on the office’s spare chair, feeling awkward.
    ‘Right. Why are you here? And I want the truth.’
    ‘Like I said, I’m looking for a suspect. He’s wanted for murdering his wife.’
    ‘When was this?’
    ‘A few weeks back – end of June.’
    ‘You’d better tell me the whole story.’ Heffernan glanced at Wesley, who sat watching the proceedings like an umpire, determined
     to stay neutral if possible.
    ‘This bloke Robin Carrington hasn’t got two pennies to rub together. Then his mum dies and he inherits her house and moves
     from a seedy bed-sit into a nice four-bedroomed place. But the place costs a fortune to keep up so he getsinto a load of debt. Anyway, a year ago he gets married to a young nurse called Harriet Marsden, and once he’s married he
     insures Harriet for a fortune, almost three-quarters of a million. Only it doesn’t work the other way – he’s not heavily insured,
     just Harriet. Got it so far?’
    Heffernan nodded and looked at Wesley, who, suspecting some kind of reaction was needed, nodded too.
    ‘A few weeks ago the nice house catches fire. His mum had had the place for years and she’d never renewed the wiring and the
     fire investigators reckon that it was an electrical fire. Anyway, a body was found in the burned-out house. Harriet had been
     home alone ’cause she was supposed to be on night duty and Carrington had gone out for the day, or so he said. It seemed like
     an open-and-shut case and everyone reckoned that Harriet had died in the fire: accidental death. But once her mother learned
     about the insurance she didn’t let it rest. She demanded a second post-mortem and last week she got it. And it came up with
     some interesting findings.’ He paused, looking at his audience, who were waiting expectantly for the punch line. ‘The second
     pathologist reckoned that she’d been dead when the fire started so the case has been reopened.’
    ‘And Carrington?’ asked Heffernan.
    ‘He scarpered a couple of weeks after Harriet died, saying he was off to do some work in Devon. He doesn’t know about the
     second post-mortem. He thinks he’s in the clear.’
    ‘What about Carrington’s alibi for the time of Harriet’s death?’ Wesley asked.
    Marchbank turned to him, the trace of a sneer on his lips. Then he turned back and addressed Gerry Heffernan.
    ‘He claimed that he was in some library all day, then spent the evening in a pub. We’ve checked out the library – it appears
     he was there. And he says he met his solicitor in the pub – a bloke called Nichols who’s not known for his love of the Metropolitan
     Police Force. He’s friendly with more villains than I’ve had hot dinners.’
    ‘That doesn’t mean he was lying on this occasion,’ said Wesley, earning himself another sneering glance.
    ‘So do you know where to find this Carrington?’ Heffernan asked. He would have hated to admit it but Harry Marchbank’s story
     had got him intrigued.
    ‘Somewhere in Devon – that’s all he told Harriet’s mum.’
    ‘Devon’s a big county.’
    ‘Yeah, but he knows this area. He was