Page 9 of Murder in Shades of Fire and Ash

Gerald nodded. “Anything, as long as it’s quick. I have to speak to my other son, and I don’t want to leave it too long.”

“Can I ask when you last saw Josh? Or heard from him?”

“I know we spoke on the phone a couple of days ago,” Gerald said, “but we haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks. He lives in Wrexham, and I know it isn’t far …” He stopped, as if realising his son didn’t live anywhere any more.

“I went out with him last Saturday,” Lola said. Her eyes were wet and shiny with tears, and her cheeks were red in her paleface. “I went into Wrexham for some shopping, and we met for lunch. In a pub. Just us.” She looked directly at Charlie. “Mum thinks he was going to marry Patsy, she’s been planning the wedding formonths,but hewasn’t.” Then she stood up and ran from the room.

Gerald rubbed his hand over his head, ruffling his hair, in a gesture Charlie was familiar with from Unwin. “Please forgive Lola,” he said. “She and Patsy didn’t get on. Patsy can be a littledirect, as I’m sure you must know, and it rubbed Lola up the wrong way. She idolises Josh …”

Charlie saw the realisation dawn again, and the iron control begin to slip.

“They were going to get married,” Tansy said. “My first baby was getting married and now he’s not … what am I going to do? I can’t bear it. Gerald, I can’t bear it. I want to see him. I can see my baby, can’t I?” This last was directed at Charlie.

“There will be a post mortem examination,” he said as gently as he could. “And then, we can arrange it if you want to see him. In a few days.”

“Don’t you need someone to identify …” Gerald asked.

Charlie shook his head. “Not in this case. Do you have any idea why Josh might have been in Llanfair?”

“No, sorry. Will you tell us what you find out?” Gerald said. “Because … this is just unbelievable. Josh wasn’t on the streets fighting drug dealers, he was in IT.”

Which was exactly how Charlie felt about it. Unwin had done an undercover job once, and done it well, but he’d spent most of his time in the office, crunching data. He hadn’t been the sort to go off on his own, having secret meetings in empty shops — or not as a police officer anyway. What he’d done in his private life, Charlie didn’t know, but he supposed he was going to find out.

There was a last question he needed to ask, but first: “Mr Unwin, please don’t think we are going to keep you in the dark.I’m leaving my number. If you think of anything, call me. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” Deep breath. “Before I go, could you tell me what you were doing yesterday and last night?”

Gerald’s face twisted into an attempted smile. “Just routine?”

“As routine as it gets,” Charlie said. There was no way to pretend that everyone close to Unwin wasn’t going to fall under the spotlight. “And Lola, too, if you know where she was.”

“We were all here, all together. I work from home, Tansy is a school welfare officer, so she’s not been at work because of the summer holidays, and Lola is on holiday — her exams are finished for this year. I didn’t get much done. We sat in the garden all day, in the shade, and wished we had a swimming pool.” His face clouded. “It doesn’t seem important any more. I need to tell Alex.”

It was time for Charlie to go. He asked for, and got the contact details for Unwin’s brother Alex, and promised to ring Gerald later. Then he let himself back out of the house, through air that seemed saturated with the pain of Unwin’s loss.

Now,assuming Ravensbourne had sent him the address, he had to go and spoil someone else’s day. She had. Dylan Gayle lived on the outskirts of Wrexham.

News of the body is out, but no ID

Ravensbourne had texted, along with the address. Then,

How were the parents?

Charlie composed an answer:

Devastated. Sister (Lola) is blaming Patsy. Parents are not.He thought about the last sentence and deleted it. Just because Tansy was — allegedly — planning a wedding, didn’t mean Patsy was off the hook. Charlie didn’t know much about non-monogamous relationships, but it was curious that whilst Patsy had mentioned Dylan, Lola had talked aboutother women.Still, he had never known Patsy to be dishonest. And Lola was as devastated as her parents. It would wait. That was, if Ravensbourne wasn’t already interrogating Patsy.

Charlie thanked allthe gods that his car was still in the shade. He turned the engine and the air-conditioning on as he got the route set up on his phone.Twenty-eight minutessaid the sat nav, which had clearly no idea about the local roads, or the difficulty of driving in the blinding sunshine. Most of the fields were yellow where the hay had been cut, contrasting with the deep, deep, green of the trees overhanging the narrow roads. Every few miles, there would be the gift of a panorama: rolling hills and woods, as far as the eye could see, all bathed in the unexpected heat. But he got there in the end, pulling up — no shade this time — in front of a small brick house at the end of a terrace. It was clean and tidy, with a trellised archway over the path, smothered in white flowers. Pots of white pelargoniums stood in front of the door. Charlie rang the bell. The door was opened by possibly the most beautiful man Charlie had ever seen. He was around six feet tall, with broad shoulders and the perfect swimmer’s body. He wore nothing but a pair of blue shorts, the same blue as his painted toenails and, when Charlie got a grip on his manners and looked at the man’s face, the same blue as his eyes. Big eyes, with long eyelashes, sitting in a gentle face that belonged in a storybook about fairies or elves. He had long pale brown curly hair, and the softest-looking body hair. Charlie wanted to stroke him.

Instead, he said he was looking for Dylan Gayle.

“You’ve found him, sweetie,” the man said. “And who might you be, coming to my door on this lovely morning? You look a little overdressed, dear. Care to come in and get into something more comfortable?”

Charlie wanted to laugh at the outrageous flirting (and if he was honest, to take up the invitation). He also wanted to cry, because he had come to ruin this man’s lovely morning. He sighed and produced his identification.

“Could we go inside, sir?”

“I’m not liking the sound of this,” the man said, but he stood aside to let Charlie into the house. It was a single open space, with a spiral staircase against the wall. French doors opened at the back onto a tiny patio with sun loungers and a miniature fountain. A small dining table and chairs stood by the front window. Charlie indicated them.

“Could we sit down?”

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