Page 5 of Worse Than Murder

‘We’ll get the forensic kit from the car and test the door handles either side for prints, but…’ Claire says, trailing off.

‘Thank you. I’ve got Warren coming out to replace the glass later, is that okay?’

‘That’s fine. You are doing everything right with regards to security. Hopefully, if they do try again, you’ll have the cages up next time and we’ll get a clearer picture of who is doing this. I’m just sorry you’re having to go through it,’ she says in her best placatory tone.

‘Thank you,’ he says, seemingly mollified. ‘Can I get you both a tea or coffee?’

‘I thought you’d never ask,’ Claire says with a smile. ‘As soon as you opened the front door, I got a whiff of coffee, and it set me off. I’d love a double-shot Americano with just a splash of oat milk and half a spoon of brown sugar.’

‘No problem. Would you like anything?’ he asks Alison.

‘I’ll have a tea, please.’

‘Any milk preference?’

‘I’m not as pretentious as Claire. Good old cow’s milk is fine.’

Back in the main part of the restaurant, Philip begins making the drinks while Claire and Alison go out to the car for the forensic kit.

‘Do you do private parties?’ Claire asks on returning.

‘Occasionally.’

‘Would it be cheeky if I asked for a special price for my wedding next year?’

‘Yes, it would be bloody cheeky,’ Alison says. ‘You can’t use your position for personal gain. It’s called corruption.’

Claire’s face drops as the realisation dawns. ‘Oh my God, it is, isn’t it? I’m so sorry,’ she says to Philip.

He struggles to hide his laughter.

‘It’s fine,’ he says. ‘I’m sure we can do you a good deal, simply as a local, and not as a police officer.’

‘I… Thank you. I… I’ll just…’ Claire says, reddening with embarrassing and running back into the utility room, while Alison turns away to stifle a laugh.

‘Mr Meagan,’ Alison says, stepping up to the bar.

‘Philip,’ he reminds her.

‘Sorry. Philip. When did the first attempted break-in occur?’

‘The first one was about three weeks ago, maybe four, now,’ he says, setting the hot drinks down on the counter.

‘Did anything strange, unusual, or different to the norm, happen around that time to attract attention?’

Philip pauses for a moment. ‘No. Not that I can think of.’

‘I see.’

‘Although,’ he begins. ‘We have a friend staying with us at the moment. She arrived just before the first attempt.’

‘Could this be connected with her?’

Philip struggles to find the correct words to use. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, ‘It’s complicated.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Alison frowns. ‘Who’s your friend?’

‘She’s called Matilda. Matilda Darke. Detective Chief Inspector Matilda Darke from South Yorkshire Police. She’s sort of… in hiding.’