“Not you two again.” Detective Inspector Haider Khan had pushed through the throng of onlookers, coming to a halt when he spotted Dannel and Osian. He pinched the bridge of his nose for several seconds. “Why am I not surprised?”
“We’ve got witnesses. It wasn’t us,” Dannel insisted immediately. “Definitely not us.”
“Inside voice.” Osian bent forward to whisper.
“Sorry.” Dannel grabbed Osian’s hand. “We were definitely not in the room where it happened.”
Haider narrowed his eyes on them when Osian muffled his snort of amusement against Dannel’s arm. “Small mercies, I suppose.”
Surveying the room and the crowded hallway, the detective inspector waved over the constables who’d come with him. He dispatched them to herd the witnesses out into the auditorium. His partner, Detective Inspector Powell, joined him; her eyes widened when she caught sight of Dannel and Osian.
Dannel didn’t want to risk unnecessary attention. He’d seen before how that almost led to Osian’s arrest. “We’ll join the other witnesses.”
“Not so fast.” Haider glanced around the room. Archie still stood in the far corner, pale and shaking, watching the paramedics finish up and step aside for the coroner. “While DI Powell speaks with your friend, why don’t we move down the hall and you two tell me what happened?”
After their close encounters with the police the previous month, Dannel didn’t envy Archie the sudden and full attention of Detective Inspector Powell. Should we call someone? Wayne Dankworth had been their solicitor and happened to be dating Dannel’s younger brother, Roland.
Does dating your best friend run in our family? Maybe not. Myron certainly wasn’t Mum’s best friend. Or perhaps he was in the beginning, and I don’t remember?
Is Mum right about my being unfairly harsh and not understanding what happened between them?
“Dannel?”
He blinked a few times when Osian waved his hand in front of him. “What?”
“Dead body. Detective. Questions.”
Right. Focus. Family confusion after we deal with another murder. I hope this isn’t going to be a trend.
“Are you okay?” Haider waited until they both nodded before pulling his notebook and pen out. He flipped through the pages to a fresh page. “Did you know the deceased?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Osian glanced over at Dannel. “Well, technically yes. Define ‘know.’”
“Ossie.” Dannel prodded Osian in the side. They might’ve become friendly with the detective inspector but now wasn’t the time for jokes. “She’s our friend Archie’s mum. She worked here at the theatre. We were supposed to chat with her about the ghost. And maybe a few West End murder mystery legends for our podcast. We didn’t know Archie would be here.”
“By no, I meant we didn’t know who was deceased at the time.” Osian shrugged.
Haider blinked at Dannel and ignored Osian, obviously surprised at the unexpected and rapid flow of words. “And Archie is?”
“Her son?” Dannel thought they’d already covered that piece of information. “Ossie knows him better. They worked together when they were both paramedics.”
“We both quit after the London wreck.” Osian leaned into Dannel. He still hated talking about the horrific accident that had led to his leaving his beloved career with the ambulance service. “Archie. Archie Dennis. He chose to travel the world, something about finding himself and living life to the fullest. Gemma knew him best.”
Poor Gemma. A paramedic friend who’d been murdered a month prior. The first shot across the bow by the murderers who’d been after Osian. Dannel was relieved they’d never have to worry about them again.
The weeks following Gemma’s death had been strange. Grief. Dannel didn’t understand the grieving process; he was sad about her death, but life moved on as it always did. He’d tried to be patient with Osian, who’d been genuinely devastated.
His brother, Roland, had explained that grief hit everyone differently. Dannel had been sad over Gemma’s passing. The emotion had flowed over him like a calm breeze, where Osian seemed to be battered by gale-force winds. Four weeks on, Osian had begun to return to normal.
“And his mother?” Haider pulled Dannel out of his thoughts. “What was their relationship like?”
“Good?” Dannel shrugged. He hadn’t known Mrs Dennis really well. “He did say she didn’t approve of his new boyfriend.”
“New boyfriend?” Osian interrupted whatever Detective Inspector Khan had been about to say. “Since when?”
“You missed the last coalition meeting.” Dannel tended not to gossip about relationship stuff. Not because he was above it, but he usually forgot to tell Osian. “Freya and Abra mentioned it.”
“How do you forget to tell me about Archie’s new boyfriend? I could’ve bugged him in my last message.” Osian pouted. “Rude. What’s his name?”
“No idea.” Dannel hadn’t been interested.
“Coalition?” Haider interrupted their conversation.
“The LGBTQ+ First Responder Coalition. A support group for former and current paramedics, police officers, and firefighters. We all started it three or four years ago. Abra and Evie currently run the organisation together.” Osian and Dannel were both inordinately proud of having helped create the coalition. It had snowballed into a more extensive gathering than they ever imagined, offering encouragement, counselling, or simply a mutual understanding. “Archie was one of the original founding members. We’re all quite close.”
“Let’s get back to today.” Haider tried to pull them back to Mrs Dennis. “Did either of you touch the body?”
“I attempted resuscitation,” Osian admitted.
“Of course, it had to be you.” Haider pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to speak with the other witnesses. Don’t go anywhere yet, will you? I might have more questions.”
“Why don’t we wait in my dressing room?” Ian came over once Haider moved on and led them through narrow hallways and down a flight of stairs. He paused in front of a white door covered with cheerful notes from friends and admirers. “In we go.”
Huddling in one corner of the room, Dannel and Osian had a moment to regroup. They tried to ignore the wildly gesturing Ian while he hyperventilated into his iPhone. The police were still questioning their way through the cast and crew.
“Could Archie have murdered his mum?” Dannel kept his voice low, bending his head closer to Osian. “With scissors?”
“Bit like Ron Weasley killing Mrs Weasley, isn’t it?”
“Less ginger and probably less freckled, but yes.” Dannel tried to picture Archie in a rage but couldn’t. “Actually, no, nothing like it. Bad analogy.”
“Fair enough. Ruin my joy,” Osian grumbled.
There were loads of words to describe Archie. Jovial. Wild, even down to his curly reddish-brown hair. Paramedic. Traveller. Loyal. Dannel would never have imagined a murderer being part of the list. He knew Osian didn’t want to believe the worst of their friend either.
“Boys.” Ian had finished his call; his sudden full attention on them made Dannel uneasy. “Can you believe this? First, a ghost. Then an actual murder?”
“Is your play cancelled?”
“Cancelled? A murder might just draw in even more of a crowd than my humble appearance.” Ian brandished his phone in their direction. “You boys simply must solve this case for me.”
“Ian.” Dannel nudged Osian when he began to snicker. “We’re not detectives.”
“Aren’t you?” Ian adjusted the scarf around his neck. “You’ve already solved one murder mystery. Why stop there? Wouldn’t it make your podcast about the West End more exciting?”
“Not sure we solved anything so much as we survived long enough for the police to do their jobs.” Osian hopped up on the nearby dressing table. “Plus, the killers weren’t trying overly hard not to get caught.”
“How shall I go on if you won’t investigate the murder of my dearest friend?” Ian swooned into his grand chair in the corner. He covered his eyes with one hand, peeking through his fingers at them. “Well?”
“Us investigating doesn’t actually impact your ability to survive.” Dannel glanced over at Osian when he nudged his leg. “What? Oh. Hyperbole. Not literal.”
Osian squeezed Dannel’s knee. “I doubt Haider will enjoy our unwanted interference.”
“I will pay you in adoration and praise.” Ian winked exaggeratedly at the both of them.
“Adoration and praise mean the same thing.” Dannel tucked his hand into his pocket to pull out his earbuds. “I’m going to sit outside.”
Leaving Ian and Osian to discuss the non-investigation, Dannel meandered up through the theatre until he made it outside. He plugged his earbuds in and upped the volume on his video game playlist. Sometimes the only thing that helped his mind settle was music.
Musical silence.
Four songs into his playlist, Dannel managed to relax his shoulders. He enjoyed being around people, to an extent. Being alone was better.
Not alone. With Osian. Music and Osian had always helped him.
Osian plopped down beside Dannel on the bench outside the theatre. “Haider said we can go. He knows where to find us. Not much point in trying to ask about the ghost or for a tour. Archie’s still with the detectives.”
“I can’t see him killing anyone.” Dannel had a clearer head after listening to the music. “Let alone his mum.”
“Me either.”
“Are we poking our nose in?” He leaned into Osian. “A little?”
“I sent Wayne a text. He’s going to check in on Archie to see if he needs a solicitor.” Osian tapped his phone in his pocket. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Better safe than wrongfully accused of murder.”
“So, we’re definitely asking a few questions,” Osian commented after a moment of silence. “For Archie.”
“For Archie.” Dannel figured they didn’t need to mention their own curiosity and obsession with true crime.
“That’s what friends are for.”
“Solving the murder of their mum?” Dannel stared at him.
“Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue.” Osian glanced back at the theatre. “I wonder if we’ll be able to chat with Archie.”
“Why don’t you wait? I’ll head home.” Dannel scratched at his palms, trying to alleviate the sensation of cooped up energy underneath his skin. “Need some….”
They were both silent for a few minutes. The rush of adrenaline had carried them through the moment of finding Archie’s mum but had swiftly evaporated. Dannel dropped his face into his hands.
“Poor Archie.” Dannel didn’t quite know how to put into words. “I can’t imagine losing my mum.”
“I—” Osian cut himself off. He cleared his throat a few times. “We shouldn’t think about it.”
“Maybe we should.” Dannel decided to call his mum later to say hello. “Not sure I can sit still here.”
“Go on then.” Osian tapped the bench between them, knowing Dannel well enough not to touch him at the beginning of what they both recognised as a meltdown. “I’ll bring home an early tea for us.”
“Cake.”
“When have I ever not bought cake?” Osian knocked his knuckles against the bench a second time. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready for me to invade our space again.”