Free Dead on Demand (A DCI Morton Crime Novel) by Sean Campbell, Daniel Campbell

celebration of their purchase of Lyddington Manor. '
    The note was on foil-backed card, and was signed by both Mr and Mrs Qumas.
    'First they move in next door, now they outdo us on social occasions!' Mrs Sugden's voice was as shrill as it had ever been in recent memory. Mr Sugden's baritone was far more serious.
    'This just won't do. Those sort of people can't live here, and I'll be damned if I'm going to their glorified barbecue.' Mr Sugden defiantly tore up the envelope.
    'I'll take care of them, dear. You mark my words; they'll be gone before Christmas.'

CHAPTER 12: INTERROGATION
    The day after identifying his wife's body, Edwin was summoned back to the station as he had expected. On arrival, he was given half an hour to compose himself and make a few phone calls before being shown into an interview suite where DCI Morton waited.
    'Mr Murphy, we've asked you to answer our questions today regarding your wife's death. You are here of your own free will, and you may leave at any time. Do you understand that?'
    'Yes.'
    'We will be tape recording this interview today.' Morton gestured at the tape recorder on the table between them, then proceeded to open a brand new tape and insert it into the machine. 'From this point on everything said will be recorded. For the benefit of the tape, Mr Murphy has attended the station today on a voluntary basis.'
    Edwin leant forward and picked up his coffee in his left hand, absently stirring in a sweetener with his right.
    'You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in Court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.'
    'Am I under arrest, officer?' Edwin frowned as if confused.
    'No, Mr Murphy, not at the present time.' Morton said simply. It was clear the policeman would not give away information freely.
    'Did your wife have any enemies?' Morton asked, watching Edwin closely.
    'No, not that I know of. A few irked ex-clients, I suppose.'
    'What sort of clients?'
    'She's a lawyer. She dabbles, but it's mostly corporate work.'
    'Do you have a copy of her client list?' Morton humoured Edwin. It was unlikely a simple company dispute would have led to her death.
    'Her firm would. Is that all you need from me, officer?' Edwin began to rise.
    'We have a few more questions yet, Mr Murphy.' Morton gestured for him to sit back down.
    'What is your relationship with your wife?'
    'We're married.' Edwin smirked inwardly. If he was going to have to discuss his marital problems, he wasn't going to make it easy.
    'Was it a happy marriage?' Morton asked.
    'For the most part. We'd recently had an argument. It happened from time to time.'
    'What were you arguing about?'
    'Work mostly. She felt I spent too much time in the office. Bit of a moot point now I suppose.' Edwin thought that a candid approach would garner the least suspicion.
    'Why is that?'
    'I'm working a lot less than I was before.' It was true, of a fashion.
    'I see. We found the divorce papers among your wife's possessions,' Morton confronted him.
    'I didn't kill her if that's what you think!' The denial slipped out before Edwin could work out if it would help or hinder his position.
    'Would you be willing to submit to a DNA test to prove that?' There was no DNA evidence to compare it to, but Edwin didn't know that.
    'Yes, of course. I can also provide an alibi.' It was too quick to offer an alibi, and Edwin knew it.
    'We haven't told you when she died yet.' Morton's eyebrow arched suspiciously.
    'Well, when did she die?'
    'Friday.' Morton didn't give a time.
    'I was on a plane over the Atlantic for most of the day. Ask anyone,' Edwin protested.
    'We will. Interview terminated, 11.29 a.m.'
    With that, Edwin was free to go. He grabbed his briefcase, which was now more of a fashion accessory than a genuine business accoutrement, and scurried out of the interview suite.
    ***
    Peter K Sugden smiled. He had just made over a million pounds short selling in