A faint electronic tune brought Osian out of the deepest sleep. He tried to figure out why the Comic-Con announcer suddenly sounded like his phone. His eyes refused to open.
Sleep was good.
“Your phone.” Dannel elbowed him in the side.
Osian threw his arm, trying to locate the annoying sound without opening his eyes. He knocked over everything on the nightstand in the process, including the lamp and a bottle of water. “Bugger.”
“Your. Phone.” Dannel gave him a harder shove, then dragged a pillow over his head. “Make it stop.”
With immense effort, Osian rolled out of the covers. He fumbled around on the floor. His phone continued to go off incessantly until he fished it out from under the bed.
Osian sat up, leaning against the bed to see who wanted to speak with him at seven in the morning. “Of course.”
“Problem?” Dannel’s muffled voice came from underneath the pillow.
“Not sure. Go back to sleep.” Osian rubbed his eyes to clear them. What on earth does Roland want at this time of day?
Roland: Wayne’s been brought in for questioning again.
Osian: In handcuffs? Or all friendly like?
Roland: They were very insistent. Not friendly but not hostile either. I’ve already called Bradley. Just wanted you to know. Don’t tell Dannel. He’ll only worry about me and Wayne. I’m heading to the station.
Right.
Well, we don’t keep secrets from each other so how am I supposed to keep this a secret?
“Problem?”
Osian glanced up and found Dannel leaning over the edge of the bed. “Fancy a walk to the police station?”
“Wayne?” Dannel sat up immediately and made to stand up. He stopped when Osian looped an arm around his legs. “What? We should go. Rolly must be so worried.”
“He’s a copper.”
“And? It doesn’t mean he won’t be worried about Wayne. He’s in love.” Dannel reached down to drag his fingers through Osian’s hair. “Aren’t we supposed to provide moral support?”
Yes, but I wasn’t supposed to tell you.
“Yes, I suppose we should. Wayne’s certainly done that and more for us.” Osian didn’t think Haider would appreciate the pressure of having so many people present. “I wonder if the police have their warrant for Wayne’s flat. It might explain the additional questions.”
“Rolly didn’t want you to tell me.” Dannel made an accurate and educated guess. “You’d think he was the older brother. I can handle bad things happening without falling apart.”
“Hence why we won’t share any doughnuts with him.” Osian got to his feet, already formulating a plan. “We might have time for a shower if we share.”
“We take longer together than we do individually.” Dannel didn’t argue and followed him into the bathroom. “Why are we getting doughnuts?”
“You don’t think Detective Inspector Khan would appreciate a snack?”
“Let’s try not to make things more difficult for Wayne and his solicitor.” Dannel shook his head at Osian when he grinned.
“The solicitor’s solicitor.”
Showering together did take longer, but they thoroughly enjoyed it. Dannel threw on clothes quickly, disappearing out of the bedroom. He hated the sound Osian’s hair made when he combed it.
How does my hair even make a sound? Despite Dannel’s insisting his hair made a clicky sound, Osian had never heard it. He didn’t argue.
Just because I can’t hear the sound doesn’t mean it’s not there.
And Dannel certainly had better hearing than he did.
“Safe yet?” Dannel poked his head back into the room. “How long does it take to comb your hair? It’s short.”
Osian tossed the comb onto the bed. “I’m done. Doughnuts await us.”
“And our friend potentially going to jail for a murder he didn’t commit.”
“Well, yes, but nothing seems quite so bad with a mouthful of sugary sweetness.” Osian didn’t mind poking at the detectives a little. He still held a little resentment for being accused of murdering one of his good friends. “You ready?”
By the time they’d gotten dressed and ready, their Uber had arrived. They had the driver take them in one direction to pick up the pastries, then back to the police station. Coffee and doughnuts made the extra bit worth it.
“You brought doughnuts.” Roland stared, disbelieving, at the box Osian held out for him. “This isn’t some barmy American sitcom.”
“Not hungry? Will it mess with your street cred?” Osian teased while keeping an eye out for Dannel. He didn’t often process the subtle variations of annoyance well, and Roland’s voice had definitely gone up a notch. “We got your favourite from Doughnut Time. If you’re not—”
Roland snatched the doughnut out of the box, glaring at him and taking a bite. “Thanks.”
“Right. Teasing,” Dannel muttered.
They found a quiet corner out of hearing of the front desk to chat. Roland kept glancing toward the closed door leading further into the station. He obviously hoped to see Wayne and his solicitor.
“What happened?” Dannel asked after his brother finished the doughnut. “Why’ve they brought him in again?”
“They wouldn’t tell me anything. Dragged Wayne off for questioning.” Roland waved them closer, keeping his voice low. “One of the DIs not on the case happens to be a mate of mine. She told me they’ve found the murder weapon.”
“And?” Osian prompted when Roland fell silent.
“A tie.”
“A tie?” Dannel sounded as confused as Osian. “Why would they bring Wayne in for a tie?”
“The tie was Wayne’s. He wore it in the office the day of the murder. Several people saw him, including a few police officers who happened to be in court.” Roland rubbed his eyes tiredly. He gratefully accepted the coffee Dannel handed to him. “Cheers. I know Wayne didn’t murder anyone. But the evidence is a killer.”
“Pun intended?” Osian knew they faced an uphill battle with the growing evidence against Wayne. “Have they arrested him?”
“Haider claimed they only wanted to ask a few more questions.” Roland gestured wildly, sloshing coffee over his clothes. “Damn it. I’ve got to be on duty in an hour. How am I supposed to focus with this looming over us?”
“Why don’t you head out? Get yourself changed and ready. We’ll stay here and keep vigil over the interrogation.” Osian didn’t need to glance at Dannel to know he was nodding his agreement. “Getting yourself in trouble won’t help Wayne. He’s in good hands with his solicitor.”
And you drawing attention to yourself won’t do much good either.
The detectives might decide to poke into Roland’s life as well. He and Wayne were dating, after all. Who else would they assume had helped him commit murder?
“They won’t let us into our flat,” Roland admitted. “I’m sure they’re going over it with a fine-toothed comb.”
“Why don’t you come to our place? You can find something to wear there.” Dannel patted his brother awkwardly on the back. “I’ll go with you. Ossie can stay here. He’s better at chatting with the police than I am.”
“You do brilliantly.” Osian rushed to assure him. Dannel always handled things better than he thought. “We should message Chris.”
“Why?” Roland glanced anxiously over when the door opened only to sigh when it was someone else being escorted by a uniformed officer. “How’s he going to help?”
“Mr James Bond? He might have contacts.” Osian was mostly teasing. He did think their well-connected security expert friend might be able to dig up something about the case or the people involved. “It never hurts to have help.”
After a bit of back and forth, Roland and Dannel left together. Osian let them take the leftover doughnuts. He’d had enough of them and didn’t need to inhale the entire box on his own.
Using his phone, Osian spent an hour reading and responding to emails to their podcast account. They’d asked listeners to send in their true crime stories for them to share in an upcoming episode. One from Cornwall had proven particularly intriguing.
Who finds a body in the garden of their newly inherited cottage?
The sender also happened to be autistic. Osian couldn’t wait to share the email with Dannel. Maybe she’d be interested in being on their podcast to tell her story directly.
“Why am I not surprised?” Haider interrupted Osian in the middle of responding to one of the emails. “Why are you loitering at the police station?”
“Where else can I eat doughnuts and respond to emails?” Osian hit send on the last message and put his phone away. He stretched his arms over his head, trying to appear casually disinterested. “I appear to have misplaced my solicitor. Have you seen him? Taller than me; not as handsome, though. He’s a clever bloke. Friendly. Highly unlikely to have strangled someone with one of his expensive ties.”
“How…” Haider pinched the bridge of his nose while counting to twenty under his breath. He glowered at Osian, who continued to do a few stretches in the chair. “I don’t want to know the details. I’d only have to reprimand someone.”
The door opened for a second time, revealing Detective Inspector Powell followed quickly by Bradley Nichols. Osian had a knot in the pit of his stomach. He waited several seconds before realising Wayne wasn’t showing up.
“They’re holding him.” Bradley stated the obvious when he spotted Osian. “For twenty-four hours.”
“Right.” Osian got to his feet. He glanced over at the detectives, then nodded to Bradley. “Right. You’re taking care of him.”
“Of course. I’ve got your number.” Bradley seemed to understand the undertone. He stepped between Osian and the two detectives when Haider moved to speak with him. “I’ll call you later.”
Striding out of the police station, Osian took the steps two at a time. They had a mystery to solve. He refused to allow Wayne to be dragged under by someone obviously intent on ruining his life while getting away with murder.
Once outside, Osian messaged Chris and several of their friends. He wanted to make sure they had all the help possible. Wayne had saved him from a similar fate, after all.
Pocketing his phone, Osian noticed a Rolls-Royce Phantom parked across the street. It was definitely a chauffeured vehicle. The slightly tinted windows kept him from getting an eye on the passenger in the back.
“Osian?”
He glanced behind him to find Bradley walking down the steps. “I thought you were going to call me later.”
“Technically, it is later.” Bradley paused, peering around Osian to stare across the street. “What is he doing here?”
“He? Who?” Osian twisted around to notice the Rolls-Royce suddenly driving off. “You know them?”
“I know the driver.” Bradley watched until the vehicle disappeared around a corner. “Belongs to the Allsops. I’ve seen him arrive at court and at events with his wife.”
“Interesting. Why would they be here? Watching the police station.” Osian moved the judge up his list of suspects. “Could one of the Allsops be involved?”
“Possibly.” Bradley turned back to Osian. “What are you planning?”
“Planning?”
“Wayne told me all about your adventures with solving murders.” Bradley motioned for Osian to follow him down the street. “Tube station’s not far from here. I’ve got to head to the court to meet with another client. What are you planning? How can I help?”
“Has Wayne said anything?”
“He’s innocent,” Bradley immediately retorted.
“Of course he is.” Osian rolled his eyes. “He’s a clever bloke. He must’ve considered who might want to set him up to go down for murder.”
“We compiled a list yesterday.” Bradley rested his briefcase against a wall, then opened it and rifled through the various papers. He handed one to Osian. “I’ve already made a copy. He said you’d want one.”
“Brilliant.” Osian took a cursory read of the list. Most were names he’d already thought about. “Who’s Edgar Smith?”
“The judge’s security officer. They’re thick as thieves. Hamnet went to school with Smith’s father. He was handpicked for the position. I imagine he feels beholden to him.” Bradley closed his briefcase. “I’ve got to run. Text me if you have any questions about the list.”
The list didn’t clear anything up for Osian. He still had so many questions. How were they going to help Wayne without answers?
Could they help him?