“If I didn’t know you, I’d think I was being stalked.” Haider barely even batted an eyelid when he spotted Osian jogging by him. “Can’t I even get coffee and a doughnut in peace?”
His early morning patience had paid off. Osian had left before the sun came up, knowing Haider usually grabbed breakfast and walked to the station. It was his way of preparing himself for a long day of work.
“Completely unintentional.”
“First, you don’t jog. You walk. Second, you never walk this direction or this early in the morning.” Haider took a bite of his doughnut. “Are you planning to pretend to stretch now? Keep jogging in place like you weren’t waiting for me.”
“Hypothetically speaking—”
“I’m having a distinct feeling of déjà vu.” He finished up the last bite of his breakfast. “If I get indigestion, I’m blaming you.”
“Hypothetically speaking—”
“No,” Haider interrupted for a second time. “Have you considered your poking around in my investigation might be distracting me from solving a murder?”
“We’re friends, right?” Osian paused to make sure he wasn’t going to be cut off mid-sentence for the third time. “Nothing wrong with a cordial conversation between mates.”
“Chatting about the weather and football is cordial conversation.” Haider sipped his coffee and wandered over to sit on the steps leading up to a closed shop. “You want to tell me why you’re tracking me down at half-six in the morning?”
In retrospect, coffee, as opposed to jogging, would’ve been a better way to start his morning. Osian went over to join Haider on the stairs. He carefully considered his options for a conversation starter.
“Dannel thought you seemed a little off last night. He was worried.”
“He didn’t.” Haider raised an eyebrow at him before taking another drink of his coffee. “You’d make a lousy interrogator. No poker face. Why don’t you ask me straight up?”
“Has someone warned you off investigating Judge Allsop?” Osian admired the detective inspector’s ability to not even flinch at the question. “Or maybe Edgar Smith?”
“Judge Allsop? Why bring him up?”
“Hamnet Allsop frequently bed-hopped, including with the deceased’s wife.” Osian took his phone out of his pocket and pulled out the still image from one of the videos they’d found. “His daughter at the pub the night of the murder. We found a video of Wayne leaving his jacket and tie within easy reach of at least twenty people.”
“Osian.” Haider set his coffee on the step between them. He grabbed Osian’s phone, zooming in on the image. “None of this proves he’s innocent.”
“Reasonable doubt?”
“Reasonable doubt isn’t my job. I’m a detective inspector, not a prosecutor.” Haider went to hand the phone back. Instead, Osian scrolled to another video, one from the building showing someone leaving in Wayne’s vehicle. “What am I watching? Where the hell did you get this?”
“That’s not Wayne. You and I both know it. Whoever this is, they’re taller. They had his keys. They left and returned.” Osian stretched his arms over his head in an attempt to release some of the tension in his back. “Listen. Someone took his tie and his car keys. Someone left a body in his boot.”
“I know.”
Osian stared in surprise at Haider, who chuckled. “Bastard. Are you enjoying our floundering around trying to convince you?”
“Immensely. Best entertainment I’ve had since this case started.” Haider lifted his cup of coffee up in a mock salute. “I can’t close the case against Dankworth.”
“Why?”
“Don’t pout at me. I’m not your fiancé.” Haider handed Osian’s phone to him. “If we close the case on Wayne, the murderer knows we’re onto them.”
“Have we made your life difficult?”
“When don’t you?” Haider offered a wry smile. “Since you can’t seem to help yourselves and nothing I say will change your minds, could you two at least try to be careful? And try not to bugger up my case so badly that I can’t solve it?”
“We’ll do our best.”
“Osian?”
“What?”
“In my experience, things always get worse before they get better in an investigation involving people like them.” Haider got to his feet, nodded at Osian, and walked off whistling to himself.
As warnings went, Haider’s had felt fairly ominous yet mild-mannered. They had murder and two suspensions. How much worse could it get?
On the plus side, Osian was relieved to know Haider believed in Wayne’s innocence. He ignored the slight twinge of guilt for pressing their detective friend for answers. Things always get worse before they get better.
The words echoed around Osian’s brain when he rounded the corner to find the Ortea shop closed. Dannel paced outside with his uncle and auntie watching him. They were obviously attempting to calm him down.
Unsuccessfully.
“Ossie.” Dannel rushed over to him, throwing his strong arms around Osian and crushing him in an embrace. “They’re inspecting the shop after some supposed tip.”
“A tip about what?”
“Illegal activity is all I could get out of the police who showed up twenty minutes ago.” Dannel’s uncle stepped up behind them. He rested a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’re heading home. Nothing to do here. I’ll call you.”
Dannel nodded to his uncle and focused on Osian. “I saw Edgar Smith across the street in the Rolls-Royce.”
“Are you sure?”
“He had the window down.” Dannel’s fingers gripped the back of Osian’s shirt. “Tosser winked at me before driving off. He wanted me to see him.”
“I’m calling Chris.” Osian kept one arm around Dannel while reaching into his pocket for his phone. “And maybe Abra. I think it’s time we pay her godmum’s friend another visit.”
“Ossie.”
“We can sit back on the defence trying to keep the ball out of the net.” Osian managed to unlock his phone with his thumb. Dannel didn’t seem ready to step back. “We’re allowing ourselves to be pushed so far back we might as well make an own goal.”
“Ah, football. Attractive virile men in shorts.” Ian strolled over to them, casually flicking his scarf over his shoulder. “A beautiful sport. Is everything all right, darlings?”
“Fine,” Dannel muttered.
“Not exactly fine,” Osian countered immediately. “We’ve found ourselves in a…”
“Quagmire?” Ian smiled brilliantly while offering the perfect word when Osian floundered. “Why don’t you come up to my flat for a coffee? I can share the little rumours I’ve heard recently.”
“Ian.”
“Come along, darlings.” Ian turned back toward the building.
Leading the way inside to his flat, Ian pushed them to sit on his plush leather sofa. He busied himself in the kitchen making tea with a dash of gin. His home always reminded Osian of 1920s movie opulence.
Glitz, glamour, and wealth.
Ian sat across from them with his long coat and scarf draped over the back of the chair. He gestured imperiously for them to begin. Osian had to chuckle for a moment before starting the tale.
“Well, well, well, you are in a spot of bother, darlings, aren’t you?” Ian sipped his tea slowly. He gently set the cup down on a saucer. “Hamnet Allsop. Allsop. I knew an Allsop. Second cousin, I believe. A pretty thing. A mildly talented stage actor, a few years younger than me. We had a wild fling in the ’80s.”
“Did you?” Osian grinned at Ian while Dannel nudged him with his elbow. “What? Aren’t you curious?”
“No,” Dannel muttered into his tea. “Fine. Maybe.”
“Who could resist Ian’s charms?” Osian winked at him.
“My point, young Osian, is you’ve trampled all over the sensitive egos of the untouchable.” Ian lifted up his teacup again. He paused before taking a drink. “You know, I’ve an invite to a charity gala tonight. All to benefit the theatre. And I’ve left it dreadfully late to find my plus one. Either of you up for wining, dining, and a side dish of intrigue?”
Dannel immediately held his hands up. “Not it.”
Cinderella is going to the ball.
Scrounging around in their wardrobe later that evening, Osian found his old suit from a friend’s wedding years ago. Thankfully, it still fit him perfectly. Unfortunately, he hated the way the collar of the jacket made his neck itch.
It was the main reason the suit had been consigned to the farthest corner of their wardrobe. He occasionally pulled it out for a date. Dannel had a fondness for him in it.
Like now.
“Enjoying the view?” Osian watched Dannel in the mirror while adjusting his bow tie. “You could always come with us.”
“No,” Dannel responded instantly. “I will miss dancing with you, though.”
“Come on, then.” Osian turned around and held a hand out. “We’ve plenty of time for a dance or two before the pumpkin carriage arrives.”
“Sounds messy. Is Ian your fairy godmother then?”
“Pretty sure he’d claim to be the wicked stepmother.” Osian caught Dannel’s hand and dragged him into an awkward half-turn. They both wound up bumping against the side of the bed. “She had the best outfits.”
“Did she? Pretty sure I can whip up a fairy godmother cosplay for you,” Dannel laughed.
They spun in a slow circle in their bedroom. Osian enjoyed their quiet moment together. It was a much-needed fortification to prepare for the evening ahead.
Closing his eyes, he briefly rested his forehead against Dannel’s shoulder. They weren’t dancing so much as twisting slowly in a tight embrace. Dannel’s muscular arms tightened around him.
“I could say something romantic,” Dannel commented absently.
“But?”
“I’ve got nothing, and you just trod on my toe.” Dannel hopped around on one foot, scowling at Osian. “Laugh it up. You’re going to spend all evening with an itchy collar while I eat pizza and play Mass Effect.”
“Rude.”
An hour later, Osian was walking into the charity gala, already having second thoughts. He didn’t fancy spending an evening mired in a minefield of small talk. Times like these gave him a greater appreciation for Dannel’s need for quiet.
A parade of the rich, the famous, and wannabes swarmed around them. Famous (and infamous) figures from the London theatre scene mingled amongst the generous donors. Ian fit right in with all of them.
Osian did not.
No matter how well his suit fit him.
“Come along, darling.” Ian swept over with two flutes of champagne, offering one to Osian. He rested a hand on his arm. “Let’s set our whirling dervish into motion, shall we? I’ve seen our target across the room.”
Ian paused to say hello here and there; it took them ten minutes to catch up to the judge and his wife. Osian was almost surprised to see them there as a couple. All the rumours made it seem as if they could barely stand one another.
“Hamnet.” Ian sounded so frosty Osian half-expected icicles to drip from his voice.
“Barrett.” Judge Allsop’s sneer morphed into a smile when his wife approached Ian with a kiss to the cheek. “It’s been a long time since you graced us with your presence.”
Ian waited until the judge’s wife had moved on, then stepped in close. “And you’ve been such a naughty boy, flexing your power like a small child playing with toy soldiers. Small-minded men, darling, always need to be so careful with their relationships and reputations. One badly thrown stone can send everything crashing down.”
“At least I have power.”
“I’ve never been just a pretty face.” Ian flicked a speck of nothing off his sleeve. “Now, why don’t you cease your attempts at ruining people’s lives and focus on your own. Oh, and Hamnet?”
“What?” he hissed, keeping his voice low as his wife stepped back over.
“You will tell your mother I said hello, won’t you? I haven’t seen her in ages.” Ian patted the judge on the sleeve with an air of condescension. “I simply must catch up with her. I’ve so much news to share.”
Osian waited until they were out of hearing range to burst out laughing. “Can I be you when I grow up?”
“If you’re very, very lucky.”