Chameleon Husband

H. Squire Patricia

Description

At her husband's funeral, Angela Menton discovers that her husband had been a bigamist - twice over as it later transpires. Friction between the three wives comes to a head when one is found dead. Detective Inspector Matt Devlin, with his partner Rick Preston, must conduct a complicated and demanding investigation, especially when their chief suspect is killed. Matt has the added distraction of a new girlfriend, Esme, who does not wish to be involved with a policeman. Matt's trademark perseverance and determination is put to work in trying to persuade Esme they would be good together, as well as matching the amassed evidence using his acute observational powers to expose the murderer.

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 31 mai 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781528961851
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

The Chameleon Husband
Patricia H. Squire
Austin Macauley Publishers
2019-05-31
The Chameleon Husband About the Author About the Book Dedication Acknowledgement Copyright Information Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty
About the Author
Patricia Squire was born in Venezuela and has lived in a wide range of countries but now lives in Sussex, England. She has a BA in English Language and Literature and an MA in Creative Writing and Authorship.
Patricia has enjoyed a varied career, including working as a secretary, WRNS radio operator, dental assistant, taxi dispatcher and teacher. She has also published non-fiction titles under the name of Patricia King.
About the Book
At her husband’s funeral, Angela Menton discovers that her husband had been a bigamist – twice over as it later transpires. Friction between the three wives comes to a head when one is found dead.
Detective Inspector Matt Devlin, with his partner Rick Preston, must conduct a complicated and demanding investigation, especially when their chief suspect is killed.
Matt has the added distraction of a new girlfriend, Esme, who does not wish to be involved with a policeman.
Matt’s trademark perseverance and determination is put to work in trying to persuade Esme they would be good together, as well as matching the amassed evidence using his acute observational powers to expose the murderer.
Dedication
This book is dedicated with love to my sons,
Michael and Anthony.
Acknowledgement
I would like to thank my husband, David,
for all his encouragement and help.
Copyright Information
Copyright © Patricia H. Squire (2019)
The right of Patricia H. Squire to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528917315 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528917322 (Hardback)
ISBN 9781528961851 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2019)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Chapter One
The young Detective Inspector Matt Devlin stared down at her cold, dead face with an uneasy combination of frustration, guilt and disbelief churning inside him. He didn’t like the situation, neither this corpse nor his emotions. Could this be suicide? If so, why this particular method? And where was the note? If not suicide, who could possibly have done it? He looked up at his partner, Rick Preston, who was clearly waiting for guidance. Matt sighed. So many questions. Time to fall back on basic procedures. Start from the beginning.
*****
Thankfully, Angela shook the last hand before turning away for a moment to regroup. She tugged on her carefully chosen chocolate-brown blouse that contrasted well with the taupe skirt, or at least that’s what Sally the sales assistant had insisted.
‘He’d have been proud of you in that get-up,’ she’d assured her. That was one of the problems of small villages, everyone was so familiar, whether suitable or not. But on the plus side, nearly everyone had turned out to see Barry off. She looked round to check on her daughters, Lydia and Ivy, smiling slightly as she saw they were both surrounded by their separate groups of friends.
‘They’re okay,’ a gruff voice said.
She nodded, turning to look at her brother Bob. ‘I know. But it was just such a shock, Barry going like that. Devastating for them and as for me, well, I find myself checking on the girls at all sorts of times.’
‘Yes, they’re young and healthy though. And they did know Barry had a heart condition.’
‘I know. But even I thought it was all under control with his medication. He should have cut down on his travelling.’
Bob put his arm around her shoulders. ‘It was quick though—and that was a blessing.’
‘Yes,’ she sighed. ‘You’re right, of course.’ She stood back and perused the flock who had come to pay their respects. ‘I suppose they’re waiting for us to make the first move off to the Red Lion Hotel.’
‘Probably,’ Bob squeezed her shoulder before dropping his arm. ‘Good idea, inviting them all for refreshments away from your house.’
‘Are you kidding?’ she grimaced. ‘I’d never get them to leave!’
As she took a step forward, a car swept into the crematorium car park. Its speed caused several mourners to scatter out of its way. The moment it came to a halt the driver’s door opened and a woman emerged and immediately verbally accosted the nearest person.
‘The Menton funeral?’ Angela heard her ask.
Meanwhile, her passenger had also emerged from the car and now rapidly followed after her, murmuring something.
Angela glanced at her brother. ‘Who are they?’
He shook his head. ‘No idea. Perhaps we should go and find out.’
The latecomers, having been directed towards Angela and her brother, the two couples met.
‘If you’re here for the funeral of Barry Menton,’ Angela began.
‘We certainly are,’ the woman interrupted.
‘Then,’ Angela finished doggedly, ‘I’m afraid it’s over. Did you know my husband?’
The woman snorted, but before she could speak her companion said, ‘Perhaps we could have a private word?’
‘About what?’ Angela asked.
‘About who is Mrs Menton,’ the woman burst out.
‘Please, Petra,’ the man said. ‘Let me deal with this.’
‘I am Mrs Menton,’ Angela said firmly.
‘Well, that’s…’ the man began, only to be interrupted by his combative companion.
‘Let’s not thrash around the houses. I am Mrs Menton. Barry Menton’s widow.’
Angela was confused. Also, she was beginning to feel a little ill. She hated being the subject of gossip and, while she did not understand precisely what the woman was talking about, she was aware it did not bode well. She was also conscious that everyone in the car park was silent, watching their little group and making no pretence of not straining to hear. She turned to her brother, ‘Bob?’
He took her arm and led her to the small cloister running around the crematorium building. As well as providing welcome relief from the blazing sun, it offered a modicum of privacy from the transfixed audience. The other two had no choice but to follow if they wished to continue their conversation. Chatter resumed amongst the others in the car park, but the tone was both subdued and pruriently intrigued. Even without hearing anything, Angela was highly sensitive to the fact they were all talking about this awful woman’s announcement. And what it could mean. Her attention was abruptly returned when the woman crossed her arms and instructed her companion, ‘Well, Gerald, get on with it.’
Gerald cleared his throat, ‘The problem is that Barry Menton appears to have married you,’ he gestured towards Angela, ‘bigamously.’
Angela felt dizziness envelop her. Bob tightened his grip on her.
‘Angela? Are you okay?’
The dizziness receded and it was her turn to emit a lady-like snort. She wasn’t about to pass out, although when she remembered their avid audience, it did pose an attractive proposition.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘Bob, I can’t talk about this here, with all of them,’ she waved vaguely towards the avidly listening onlookers. ‘We need to discuss all this in private.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll send everyone on to the hotel and then take you home.’
‘Don’t forget the girls.’
‘Of course not. Go and get in the car, the girls and I will be along in a minute.’ She nodded and slowly made her way to the car. The funeral service had been bad enough, but she had known she just had to hold it together until Monday. Then Bob would have gone back home and with the girls in school she would be able to indulge in a therapeutic storm of weeping in private. However, now it looked as if another nightmare was about to engulf her.
Gerald and Petra looked at each other.
‘We’ll follow her to her home,’ Gerald decided. ‘It must be a terrible shock for her, but we do all need to talk about it.’
She sniffed. ‘It was a shock to me too, you know.’
With his hand across the small of her back, Gerald guided Petra back to their car. ‘Yes, the bigamy part was unexpected, but you knew he had someone else.’
‘A mistress, I thought. Never dreamt he’d undergone a wedding ceremony with her!’
‘I know, but at least you know you are the legal widow. She’s having to rethink her whole life. And, of course, there are her children.’ Petra muttered to herself, but allowed him to hand her into the car.
Meanwhile, Bob had urged the funeral guests to move on to the hotel where refreshments were waiting for them. He managed this without answering any of the questions being thrown at him, although he was painfully aware this situation would be the sole topic of conversation. Using selective hearing, he gathered Lydia and Ivy and herded them towards their mother in the car.
‘What’s going on? Who were those people?’ Ivy asked.
‘That’s what we’re going to find out,’ their uncle replied.
Lydia was white-faced and silent. Bob realised she had grasped at least some of the problem. He sighed. He’d have to stay on longer instead of going home the next day as he’d planned. All three of them were going to need his support.
Chapter Two
The ride back to the house was eerily silent. Ivy had made one attempt as they started out with, ‘What’s happening?’ However, one look from her sister and she subsided. No one else spoke.
Once