AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Now Finn had a direct, establishedline between Maggie and the museum. His working theory that Maggie was a revengekilling for possibly persuading Quentin to leave his inheritance to the museumwas starting to bear fruit and make sense.
“Kelvin,” said Finn, “we think it’spossible that the killer is murdering people out of revenge, and we worry that youand your staff, anyone connected with the museum, might be in the killer’scrosshairs.”
“My word,” Kelvin said. “That is aworry. Not so much for me, I’ll give him hell if he appears.” Kelvin lifted uphis walking stick like a sword, swiping the air. “But there are a lot of youngpeople, even some vulnerable adults, who volunteer with us here. Could the killerreally target them?”
“It’s only a theory,” Winters interjected,pouring cold water on the conversation. “But we are wanting to investigate thisconnection between the DeGreys and the museum. Tell me, who knew about themuseum inheriting the DeGrey estate?”
“Myself and some of the trustees,”Kelvin replied as if trying to recall more. “It’s possible others know, but I’dstart with our board. If you wait here, I can get you a list of names andcontact details.”
“Wonderful.” Winters smiled.
Kelvin nodded and walked off, hisfootsteps echoing in the large hall.
Finn spoke in a low voice: “Winters,why do I get the feeling you have a different idea than me?”
“Think about it,” Winters replied.“What if we have this wrong and it’s not that the killer is carrying outrevenge?”
“You think the killer murderedQuentin because the museum needed the estate sooner to survive, don’t you?”
“It seems more likely to me,” Winterssaid.
Finn’s phone buzzed and pinged. Hetook it out and saw a message from Demi. It read: “Are you ever going to speakto me? I can’t wait forever. There’s something you need to know.”
His heart started racing, but whyit beat so fast, Finn couldn’t be certain. He was conflicted. The thought ofbeing free from the drama of his breakup with Demi brought with it a distant possibilityof peace. To be done with that part of his life would finally help him move on.But then there were the memories. The love. The cherished moments. The laughshe had when Finn cracked a joke. The way she loved animals and her friends.The possibility of what had been promised haunted his mind like a ghost.Marriage, kids, a life filled with purpose.
What am I going to do? hethought, staring at the message.
“Finn?” Winters said, snapping himout of it.
“My ex,” he said, shaking hishead. “Do you ever wish someone would make a decision for you? Then you’d beable to know how to move forward?”
“Yes,” Winters said. “But then, ifwe let everyone make our decisions for us, they wouldn’t be ourdecisions, would they? It would be like watching a film of our lives playingout in front of us without us actually making the choices that matter.”
Finn nodded. “I get that. I’ve alwaysmade the decisions in my life. I’ve had to ever since I was a kid. I’ve pridedmyself on being strong, up to any challenge. But once in a while life throwssomething at you, and you just wish someone else was there to show you the way.”
Winters smiled gently. “You’llfind your way. And I meant what I said about buying you a pint when this caseis over. If you want to talk over it, I don’t mind listening, you know?”
“Well,” Finn said, smiling, “youdo owe me one, after all. For all the help I’ve been on these cases.”
“I’m still trying to figure outwhether you’re a help or a hindrance,” Winters said.
“I may be a hindrance, but ahindrance with impeccable style.”
Just as Winters rolled her eyes,the echoing footsteps of Kelvin came from around a corner.
“Here you go,” he said. “These arepapers containing our trustees’ contact details. They’ll be able to tell youmore about the museum’s relationship with Quentin. And I have another sheethere with every employee and volunteer.”
“I’ll get one of our staff tocontact your employees and ask them to stay vigilant,” Winters said. “I canorganize a police presence in the museum as well to put everyone’s mind atease. It is purely precautionary.”
“Thank you, Inspector.”
“And thanks to you, Kelvin,” Finnsaid, taking the papers. “This is a big help. I hope I can come back here andhave a look around soon.”
“Ah, a lover of museums?” the oldman asked.
“Something like that,” Finnanswered.
Suddenly there was a crash fromthe back of the hall. Kelvin spun around like a man half his age. “No, Andrew!Not there. The RAF uniforms are going at the back of the hall… I’m terriblysorry, Inspector Winters, Agent Wright, I have to attend to this. A curator’sjob is never done. If I can ever assist you again, please don’t hesitate tocall.”
