Free Screaming Yellow by Rachel Green Page B

Peter nodded a greeting.
    Nicole clasped his arm. “Will you bash this door open, Peter? Father Brande here hasn’t got the muscle to manage it. He thinks Robert has been murdered.”
    “Murdered?” Peter grimaced and landed a side kick to the lock. Wood splintered. He kicked twice more until the wood around the lock gave way and the door lurched with a resounding crack. He pushed it open and entered the room, the others following on his heels.
    “Oh my Lord.” Simon made the sign of the cross.
    Robert Markhew was slumped half across his desk, one hand trailing the sea of woolen carpet. His glassy eyes stared at the door, specks of blood peppering the pages of the book beneath his head. The dagger protruding from his back had allowed blood to run down his arm and pool on the floor.
    “You were right.” Amanda pressed her fist against her teeth. “He has been murdered.”
    “And burgled.” Peter pointed to the open window. “We’d better call the police.”
    * * * *
    Jennifer looked across at her brother, spotting the telltale signs he was over-tired. He rubbed his eyes, yawned and pinched himself on the arm. “I’ve already gone over all this with Sergeant Davies.” He was talking to a plainclothes policeman taking notes in front of him.
    Detective Inspector White nodded. “I appreciate that, sir, and I’m very grateful, but I like to hear the events myself. It helps me form my own opinion, you see. Besides, you might think of something else with the re-telling.”
    “Very well.” Simon took a long draught of the sweet tea Amanda had served earlier. Jennifer hoped it was warmer than hers had been. “I was woken by a phone call from Amanda at a little after eleven.” He nodded toward the maid. “At least I thought it was her, although when I got here she said she knew nothing about it and that as far as she knew, Robert was alive and well.”
    “What time would this be, sir? How long was it between you receiving the phone call and arriving here?”
    “It was about half-past eleven when we arrived.”
    “We?”
    “My sister had to drive. I’d had too much brandy.”
    Jennifer nodded and the inspector scowled. “Was it a cellphone or a landline you received the call on?”
    Simon frowned. “It was the house phone. Does it matter?”
    White raised an eyebrow. “It might, sir. You can never have too many details. How did you know it was Amanda calling?”
    “I recognized her voice. We’d had dinner here so it was still fresh in my mind.”
    “I see.” White made a note in his book. “What happened when you got here?”
    “Amanda answered the door and said he was alive, but I insisted upon seeing him. When I got inside, Nicole called down from the top of the stairs to find out what the commotion was. Amanda told her I thought Robert had been murdered and she went to check his bedroom. He wasn’t there.”
    “So you checked the study?”
    “That’s right. Amanda said that was where she’d seen him last. The door was locked so she fetched Peter to break it down. That’s when we found the body.”
    “Did you touch the body at all, sir? Any of you?”
    Simon shook his head. “No. Peter and Amanda were going to, but I told them not to. That’s when we called the police.”
    * * * *
    “Tell me in your own words, love.” Sergeant Davies sat at the table, his notebook open and his pencil poised. Jennifer thought he looked more professional than the inspector. She squeezed Amanda’s hand.
    “I don’t know anything about it.” Amanda leaned forward showing more than an ample amount of cleavage for a decent girl “The first thing I heard was Father Brande hammering on the door. I thought he’d forgotten something.”
    “Wait.” Davies looked up. “He’d been here earlier?”
    “Yes,” said Amanda. “He and his sister had dinner with Mr. Markhew. They talked in the study after I cleared away the dishes.”
    “I see.” Davies made a note. “Any idea what about?”
    “No. It was