“Rolly?” Dannel had watched his brother for several minutes in concern. They’d gotten out of the car, and Roland had frozen, staring up at the building. “Are you all right?”
“All my life, I’ve wanted to be a police officer. I dedicated myself to helping my community. Closest I could ever come to being a superhero.” Roland shoved his hands into his pockets, breathing out through his mouth harshly. “I believe in justice and due process. What if an innocent man gets convicted of murder?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time. Not everyone’s as dedicated to the truth as you are.” Dannel immediately wanted to kick himself when his brother’s shoulders drooped. Roland needed positivity and hope, not brutal practicality. “Haider’s a decent bloke. Clever. He’s not likely to close his case without digging deeper to find the truth.”
“Or he might decide they already have the answers,” Roland retorted morosely. He shook his head after a moment. “Come on, then. Let’s see if anyone saw anything useful.”
Given the time of day, Dannel wondered how many people would be home. His heart began to race a little at the prospect of knocking on doors and questioning complete strangers. It wasn’t one of his talents.
Even as a firefighter, Dannel had struggled with dealing with the public. In the heat of the moment, he could focus on saving lives and stopping fires. After, he’d never done brilliantly chatting with victims of whatever incident.
Sometimes I don’t even want to talk to Ossie, and I love him with my entire being.
Some days are nonverbal ones.
“Where do we start?” Dannel had begun to wonder if they could actually go door to door without someone reporting them as a nuisance. “Can you get in trouble for interfering in an investigation that’s not officially assigned to you?”
“Probably.” Roland started to walk toward the building. “I’ve an idea to keep us out of trouble with Haider.”
“Oh?” Dannel wasn’t worried about himself, but Roland had a career to consider. “What’s the plan?”
“Mrs Rose.”
“Who’s Mrs Rose?”
“Lives on the first floor. Woman who knows more about what happens around here than CCTV does.” Roland paused in the middle of the parking area, glancing around at the vehicles. “We’ll likely find her in the garden. She has a small section all her own.”
From his brother’s brief description, Dannel had an image of what Mrs Rose would be like. She turned out to be a spry seventy-something-year-old with bright green hair, wearing a T-shirt with the colours of the lesbian flag, and carrying a watering can in her hand. She waved cheerfully at Roland.
“Hello, handsome. Have they let your solicitor out on good behaviour yet?” She set the watering can down on the ground. “They haven’t, have they? Typical. Why don’t we chat over some of my special tea?”
Leading the way up to her first-floor flat, Mrs Rose left them in her cosy sitting room while she got the kettle going. Dannel inspected the various photos covering one of the walls. All of Mrs Rose at various ages with other women at clubs, rallies, and protests.
“I’m what they used to call a spinster, because I refused to marry the man my parents approved of.” Mrs Rose motioned for Roland to take the tray with the cups and saucers into the room. “We’ve progressed so far as a society with so much more to accomplish. My Josie and I were married the moment it became possible.”
Special tea appeared to be heavily laced with some sort of whisky. Dannel’s eyes watered when he took a sip. He gently set the cup down on the saucer.
“Dannel’s going to marry his childhood sweetheart soon.” Roland patted him on the shoulder, then went to sit down across from Mrs Rose, who’d chosen what was obviously her favourite chair.
“Wayne’s such a good lad. He’s always checked in on Josie and me.” Mrs Rose settled into her seat. “Now. How can I help you?”
Roland paced by the window, staring out into the garden. “Did you see anything the other night?”
“Hmm.” Mrs Rose directed Roland to a notebook visible on a desk across the room. “Everyone needs a hobby. Mine is gardening and being nosy.”
“I’ve seen worse hobbies.” Roland brought the book over to her.
Taking the notebook from him, Mrs Rose turned a few pages and found one for the day of the murder. Dannel tried to read the flowery script upside down. He couldn’t make out much more than the times running along the right side of the paper.
“Ah, here we go. You and Wayne arrived quite sloshed. We heard you singing in the lift. A rousing rendition of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone.’” Mrs Rose covered her mouth when she laughed. “WA from the sixth floor drove you. I saw her leave with Wayne’s vehicle for a while. She came back with a rather tall bloke an hour later. I dozed off, so I’ve no idea if they left again.”
“Did you recognise the bloke?” Dannel asked. He hadn’t dared touch his tea again, since liquid courage would make his mind fuzzy. “Does he live in the building?”
“I’ve never seen him before. He reminded me of one of those buff military types.” She held the page of her book out so Roland could take a photo with his phone. “I tried telling the young constable who questioned me that morning. They didn’t seem inclined to believe me.”
“Typical.” Dannel wasn’t surprised. He imagined the constable had written Mrs Rose off after one look at her wild hair and unusual journal. “We are inclined to believe you.”
“Excellent. Now, why don’t you two pop off to solve crimes?” She ushered them out of her flat. “My garden won’t water itself.”
They said goodbye and made their way up to Wayne’s flat. The police tape had been removed. Dannel assumed the detectives had finished combing through every inch of the place.
Roland led him inside, stopping in the middle of the living room. “They were certainly thorough.”
“Were you robbed?” Dannel wondered if a cyclone had blown through. Papers were scattered everywhere. “Can a room be dishevelled?”
Roland sank down on the sofa, ignoring the papers underneath him. He massaged his temples with a groan. “You don’t have to clean.”
Unable to think clearly in the clutter, Dannel began to gather up all the loose papers. He organised them into stacks on the coffee table. It wasn’t perfect but certainly better than before.
Dannel sat across from Roland, bending down to pick up a stray receipt. “So, Willa?”
“Willa.” Roland dropped his hands away from his face. “I doubt she’ll be as open or friendly as Mrs Rose.”
“Think Ossie got in to see Wayne?” Dannel had been waiting to get a text from Osian. He stared at his phone, willing it to buzz. “How do we question Willa?”
“We don’t. She’ll see me coming a mile away.”
“Yet another phrase that makes no sense. You have to get up close to chat with someone, so what does it matter if they see you coming?” Dannel considered if one of their friends might have better luck. “Maybe Abra and Ossie can chat with her? Willa didn’t seem to mind speaking with him the other morning.”
“True.” Roland stretched his legs out on the coffee table. He dislodged one of the stacks, grinning when Dannel grumbled at him. “Wayne hadn’t been taken in for questioning on a murder then. Willa might not be so chatty now.”
“We—” Dannel cut himself off when his phone beeped. He checked the message, immediately relieved to see one from Osian. The long delay had begun to worry him. “Ossie managed to speak with Haider. Wayne’s being released.”
“Let’s go.” Roland was up off the sofa before Dannel had a chance to respond to Osian’s text. “Come on.”
Dannel followed his brother down to the parking lot. “Are you okay to drive?”
“I’ll be fine.”
The short drive to the police station went by in total silence. Roland constantly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel was the only sound. Dannel kept an eye on his brother in concern.
He’d never seen Roland so anxious.
Quiet comfort was all Dannel had to offer. The ride felt like they’d gone all the way to Scotland. They finally arrived, finding Osian and Wayne chatting on the pavement outside the station.
“Wayne,” Roland whispered. He quickly found a place to park, then practically ran at light speed to his boyfriend, throwing his arms around him. “Thank everything.”
“Thank Bradley’s brilliant barrister mind.” Wayne nodded to Dannel when he waved. “I hear you’ve all been quite busy.”
“We couldn’t let you languish in jail.” Dannel tried to keep the mood light and not bring attention to his brother’s obvious relief. He hoped it was that and not distress. “Wait until we tell you what we found out today. Also, you might want to have someone in to help you clean up your flat. They left quite a mess for you.”
“Why don’t we all talk over a late lunch? I’m starved. Microwave meals just aren’t the same.” Wayne kept an arm around Roland when he finally released him from his tight hug. “Somewhere far away from the police station.”
“There’s a funeral at Westminster Cathedral tomorrow. Open to the public.” Osian sipped from his cup of coffee, following them to where Roland had parked the car. “Think anyone would mind if we went?”
“Just try not to get yourself arrested.” Wayne sounded tired. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Small detail.”