Free Fatal Act by Leigh Russell

knew that the sergeant didn’t get on with Nick Williams, the detective inspector who shared Geraldine’s office. But Sam had to be careful. Nick was higher in rank than Sam. If she spoke out of turn, she could get herself in trouble for insolence towards a superior officer. Geraldine hadn’t known Sam for long, but she trusted her and would be gutted to lose the sergeant over something so pointless as a clash with another inspector.
    ‘Come on, Sam,’ she announced loudly as she entered, as though she hadn’t heard anything of the heated exchange that had been going on before she arrived. ‘We’re going to arrest Piers Trevelyan.’
    N ick leaned back in his chair, placed his elbows on his desk and pressed the tips of his fingers together. He watched the two women with a faint smile on his face. He was clean shaven and his light brown hair was brushed straight back, accentuating his wide forehead. His right eye was permanently slightly closed, so that he looked as though he was winking, which reflected his general air of good humour. While she accepted that his occasional sexist comments could be interpreted as offensive rather than amusing, Geraldine still didn’t understand why Sam was quite so antagonistic towards him. He was amiable enough, if a bit irritating, like an annoying older brother who cracked embarrassing jokes that weren’t funny.
    ‘Sam’s been desperate to find you,’ he drawled. ‘She wouldn’t tell me why.’
    ‘It’s not your case,’ Sam muttered. ‘I don’t have to tell you anything about it. I came here to talk to Geraldine.’
    She sounded like a sulky teenager. Geraldine suppressed a smile at her pettiness.
    ‘Come on, then, we can discuss it on the way,’ she said.
    With a quick grin at Nick she left, with Sam at her heels.
    S am cheered up as soon as they left Geraldine’s office.
    ‘Where are we off to, did you say?’
    ‘We’re going to arrest Piers.’
    ‘I thought that’s what you said. But you didn’t think he was guilty –’
    ‘I still don’t.’
    ‘Then why –’
    ‘Orders from above.’
    Glimpsing Geraldine’s irritated expression, Sam held her tongue and they drove in silence to Piers’ house in Highgate.
    J ust as Geraldine was on the point of giving up, the door was opened by a raven-haired young woman dressed in a silk kimono.
    ‘Is Mr Trevelyan in? I’m Detective Inspector Geraldine Steel.’ As she was reaching into her pocket for her warrant card, Piers appeared in the hall behind the girl. He was wearing jeans and an open-necked shirt, which was untucked, and his feet were bare.
    ‘What the hell is it with you people?’ he growled.
    ‘May we come in?’
    ‘No you may not. Come on, Cheryl. Shut the door.’
    He sounded sloshed. Ignoring his rebuff, Geraldine stepped inside. The woman looked as though she might burst into tears.
    ‘What shall I do, Piers?’
    ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us to your new friend?’ Sam asked.
    ‘This is my sister,’ he said, laughing very loudly and waving one hand in the air.
    The woman’s eyes widened in annoyance, but she didn’t say anything.
    G eraldine had heard enough. She still didn’t believe Piers was guilty of murder, but she enjoyed asking him to accompany them to the police station once more. His girlfriend had been dead for two days and he was already consoling himself with her replacement. He stared levelly at her, suddenly sober.
    ‘I’d like to phone my solicitor,’ he said coldly.
    ‘I’m sure you would. All in good time. But first things first, you’re coming with us. You can make a call from the station. Unless you want it recorded that you resisted our invitation to come in for further questioning? Now I suggest you get some shoes on and come quietly.’
    S he turned to the shocked young woman who was staring desperately at Piers. Clearly neither of them was used to hearing him addressed in such peremptory tones.
    ‘Get some clothes on and take yourself home. Mr Trevelyan