The stately home reminded Adam of a game of Cluedo. Whichever door you opened, there was some grandiose room behind it.
The dining room was no different.
A long table filled the middle of the large room, the antique oak so polished you could almost see yourself in it. Heavy silver cutlery flanked intricately designed plates that looked like they cost more than Adam’s whole kitchen at home. An ornate chandelier bathed the room in light.
Most of the places were already taken, so Adam took a seat between Sam and Emily’s father, Trevor. He nodded a greeting at the rest of the table, not wanting to interrupt conversations already in full flow.
Sam, Ross and their parents were discussing something wedding related while Emily and her bridesmaids talked about the songs they hoped the band would play tomorrow night. Emily’s parents were running their fingers up and down a drinks menu, choosing which wines to buy for the impending meal.
Adam snuck a look at the prices and gulped. He sincerely hoped that the bill was on the Campbell family!
Sitting silently on the other side of the table was Mike, Emily’s brother. His shirt was so fitted around his huge arms that Adam worried the blood would reach an impasse at his biceps and fail to flow to his fingers. His eyes were downcast towards the table, but his demeanour suggested he wasn’t in the mood for family time. Perhaps the stress of the weekend was getting to him.
Adam wished Colin could have come, but he’d been told that the meal was strictly for the wedding party.
A waiter approached the besuited Trevor, who ordered enough bottles of wine to get an army drunk. The waiter nodded his head sagely, approving of the choices as a sommelier would, before backing slowly out of the room towards the kitchens.
Trevor adjusted his position in his seat, turning to look at Adam with all the grace of a ship’s turning circle. His huge buttocks hung over the side of the seat and Adam could smell the perspiration seeping through his heavy suit jacket.
‘How are you, son?’ he asked.
Adam and Trevor engaged in idle chit-chat for a while, before the first course arrived. Silence fell as spoons were plucked from the table and soup was ladled into mouths. Adam took great care not to spill any on his white shirt.
When empty bowls had been collected, Emily’s mother, Cynthia, got to her feet. She tapped the stem of her wine glass with a fork, bringing silence to the room once more.
‘The Campbell and the McMullan families would just like to say thank you to you all for being here tonight. Weddings are stressful at the best of times, but when you consider what has happened this weekend… well…’ she trailed off.
Trevor took over, hoisting his considerable frame from his seat with a loud grunt.
‘What my wife is trying to say, is thank you to the young ones. You’ve looked after Sam and Emily under difficult circumstances, not just this weekend but in the lead up to the wedding too.’
He glanced at the empty chair at the head of the table.
‘Daniel Costello was a good boy, and we were shocked and saddened by what has happened to him. I’ve known his father for many years. Sam, my future son-in-law, has lost his best man and a friend, as have many of you. Please, let’s raise a glass in his memory.’
Everyone stood with arms extended towards the vacant chair and clinked their glasses.
The remainder of the meal passed without incident. Adam held a hand over his glass every time an offer of more wine was made. He was sure he’d never have another chance to sample a £50 bottle again, but he was determined to remain sober.
Whoever murdered Danny was going to be brought to justice tonight, he was sure of it, and for that he needed a clear head.
After the meal, the party made their way into the barroom, which was decorated in much the same manner as last night. Beige pop music was playing, though the dancefloor was empty. It felt like déjà vu to Adam, who, for a minute, had the ridiculous notion that he had been given an opportunity to intervene with fate; to stop Danny’s life from ending in the way it had.
He shook his head, keen not to let his imagination run away from him. He checked his watch. Night was drawing in fast and they still had so much to do. He clocked Colin by the bar, ordering a drink.
‘You best be keeping a clear head,’ Adam said, sidling up to his friend.
A glass of water was passed across the bar at exactly that moment. Colin motioned to it much the same way as an assistant might highlight the star prize on a corny gameshow, before picking out the slice of lemon and throwing at Adam’s face. He watched with satisfaction as it bounced off his forehead.
‘We’ve got to leave it until people are slightly more drunk,’ Adam said, moving to a table with two seats.
‘What do we do until then?’ Colin asked, placing his pint glass on a coaster.
‘We watch.’
An hour later, and the dancefloor was filled. Those who had arrived late to the party were well oiled, no doubt thanks to pre-drinks in bedrooms with the alcohol purchased earlier from the petrol station at the end of the road. The pop playlist had been replaced by a function band, who stormed through songs that would be repeated tomorrow night after the speeches – whipping the crowded dancefloor into a frenzy with genuine wedding classics.
The finishing notes of Come On, Eileen rang out as the band downed their instruments and concluded their first set of the night, to much cheering from the appreciative horde.
As the dancefloor emptied, Adam seized his chance. He walked up to the microphone and tapped it to make sure it was on. A couple of dull thuds sounded through the PA system. The singer looked over at what he assumed was a drunken karaoke singer, but Adam held up a pacifying finger.
‘A car with the number plate HFZ 4531 is blocking a staff member’s car. Who does it belong to?’
This moment was not lost on Adam. Whoever held their hand up was admitting to owning the car that had stopped at the petrol station last night. The car that had just visited Danny to hand over money.
Trevor’s hand shot up.
Adam left the microphone behind and walked over to him as he was pushing himself out of his seat. His eyes were unfocused and his cheeks rosy – he was certainly in no condition to drive.
‘After all that wine at dinner, I’m not sure you’re fit to get behind the wheel,’ Adam smiled. ‘I’ll move it for you, Mr Campbell.’
Trevor pushed the keys into Adam’s sweaty palm and patted him on the back with enough force to knock him forward a few steps.
Shaking slightly, he made his way out of the bar. Colin was waiting at reception and the two of them walked outside into the crisp air, their eyes hovering over each number plate in search for the car they needed.
Adam pressed a button on the keys, causing orange lights to blink in the encroaching darkness. They made their way to the expensive car and got in. It started with a faint purr, not like the spluttering his own rusty Clio produced upon coming to life.
He moved the car from its current position to a spot around the corner, out of sight of the windows from the bar. Here, out of the way of prying eyes, they had time to search for what they suspected might be hidden.
Adam opened the glovebox, though it was neat and orderly. Definitely nothing hidden in there. He rifled through any compartment he could, coming up empty while Colin climbed into the back of the car. He ran his hand under the mats and between the seats, again coming away empty handed.
Frustrated, he slapped the material covering the back of the passenger seat. His hand hit something solid. From the pocket, he pulled a plastic lunchbox and held it up to Adam, who stopped searching in order to appraise the find with his own eyes.
‘I assume it’s not food in there?’ he said.
Colin ripped the plastic lid off, exposing another piece of the puzzle.
Inside was a phone. A phone that looked almost identical to the one Danny had been using as a burner.
Colin pocketed it.
‘Time to find out what role Mr Campbell had in this,’ he said as they exited the car.