Free A Box Full of Darkness (Wilson Book 5) by Fee Derek

his pocket and held it out to her. ‘My name is Detective Superintendent Ian Wilson and this is Sergeant Jackson. I wonder if we could have a word with you and your husband.’
    The woman looked confused. ‘We’ve no truck with the Peelers. We’re quiet folk here.’
    Wilson withdrew his warrant card and replaced it in his pocket. ‘We’re from a PSNI task force, and we’re looking into the death of your son, Sean.’
    ‘Sean’s been dead these many long years,’ the woman said. ‘You’d best come in. The neighbours’ll be wonderin’ what’s goin’ on.’ She opened the door fully to admit them and stood aside.
    Wilson was obliged to duck his head as he entered the doorway. He and Jackson stood inside the entrance hall and waited while Mrs Lafferty closed the door.
    ‘Michael,’ she called from the hall. ‘Two peelers lookin’ into Sean’s murder.’
    Wilson noticed the use of the word ‘murder’.
    A voice came from a room on the side of the corridor. ‘Tell them they’re forty-two years too late.’ There was a racking laugh and then a fit of coughing.
    ‘Michael’s not well,’ Mrs Lafferty said as she led the way down the hallway. The Lafferty residence was in that state that estate agents would call ‘a bijou residence requiring some updating’. A flight of ceramic ducks of different sizes flew along the wall beside the stairs leading to the upper floor. The wallpaper was at least twenty years old and in places it had started to come away from the walls. It was matched by the carpet which Wilson could see hadn’t been cleaned since the day it was laid. Wilson and Jackson walked the few steps toward the rear of the house and Mrs Lafferty led them into a small room, which was dominated by a single bed of the type found in hospitals. A pale and emaciated man lay on the bed. Michael Lafferty wasn’t just ‘not well’ he was at death’s door. And Wilson could see from his face that he knew it.
    ‘I’m glad I lived to see this day, ‘said Michael Lafferty as he tried to push himself up to get a better look at his visitors.
    ‘I’m Detective Superintendent Wilson.’
    ‘I heard you at the door,’ Lafferty said straining. ‘My ears are about the only part of my body that are still in perfect working order.’
    Wilson walked forward and assisted Lafferty to sit upright.
    ‘Thanks,’ Michael Lafferty said. ‘Sinead, we’re not inhospitable people. Go you and make the superintendent and his pal a cup of tea. ‘Virtually every word was accompanied by a wheeze. ‘Sit you down, Superintendent.’ Lafferty cast his eyes in the direction of the single chair in the room. ‘The hospice loaned us this bloody bed but it takes up the whole of the room. I want to die in my own house, you see.’
    Wilson sat in the chair. ‘We’re taking another look at Sean’s murder.’ He felt good using the right word.
    Lafferty laughed and the effort seemed to tire him because his head went back against the pillow.
    ‘I said something funny?’ Wilson said.
    ‘Yes.’ Lafferty moved his head forward again. ‘You said another. That should mean that it was already looked into thirty-eight years ago but that would be a lie.’
    ‘You mean there was no investigation?’ Wilson looked at Jackson who had his notebook out.
    ‘Divil the one,’ Lafferty smiled. ‘You’re the first peeler that we’ve seen who mentioned Sean’s name since the ambulance picked him up off the road outside.’
    ‘No one interviewed you after the murder?’ Wilson asked. He saw the mottled nature of Lafferty’s skin.
    ‘Isn’t that what I said, man?’ A flash of anger crossed Lafferty’s emaciated face. ‘I’ll say it one more time. You’re the first peeler we’ve seen investigating Sean’s murder. Mind you we had plenty of visits from the peelers and the military after Sean died. But none of them were investigating his death.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ Wilson said.
    Lafferty took a deep breath. ‘For months