Strange Blood Read Online Free Page A

lesbian murdered by an over-possessive girlfriend.’
    â€˜Oh, come on!’ Foy’s eyebrows arched. ‘I mean, statistically, it’s likely to be a man.’
    â€˜I was being sarcastic, Steve. My point is I need to know a lot more details – if only to rule things out. I mean, apart from doing the housework and looking after the kids, how did she fill her days? Was she a member of any clubs or sports centres? Were there any particular places she went shopping? Did they have a dog, and if so, where did she take it for walks? Any details of that kind might lead to the killer.’
    â€˜Okay. I mean yes, we’re already looking into all those things…’
    â€˜And I’ll need to look at the house,’ Megan said quickly. ‘I’m not trying to suggest your lot have missed anything. I just think it’d help me get a better picture of her.’
    â€˜Sure. Could you meet me there at about nine-thirty tomorrow morning?’
    â€˜With a bit of re-arrangement of lectures, yes, I should think so. Can I keep these?’ Megan nodded at the photographs. ‘I’ll have another look through them tonight and read the pathologist’s report.’
    â€˜Right’. Foy stood up and put on his jacket. ‘Oh, I didn’t tell you about the appeal,’ he said, feeling in his pocket and pulling out a video cassette.
    Megan took the tape and slotted it into her machine. ‘The husband?’ she asked as an image flickered onto the screen.
    â€˜Yes. Poor sod found her after the school phoned him at work. No one had turned up to collect the kids.’
    They watched the video in silence.
    â€˜What’s his alibi?, Megan asked as she rewound the tape.
    â€˜He was in meetings all day. They had to call him out of one to fetch the children.’
    â€˜Where is he now?’
    â€˜Staying at his mother’s.’
    â€˜Lucky he’s got one,’ Megan said, pressing ‘Eject’. ‘He’s certainly going to need her with three kids to bring up on his own.’
    *   *   *
    Delva Lobelo was waiting for the microwave. Chicken in Black Bean Sauce with Egg Fried Rice. For One. She perched on the kitchen table, a glass of chilled white wine in her hand, and tossed the empty box into the bin. Her aim was perfect but instead of slithering down the box stuck out. The bin was too full. She swore loudly. It could wait until tomorrow to be emptied.
    She had just changed her clothes for the second time that day. The gloomy black suit was hanging in the wardrobe at work. Clad now in jeans and a T-shirt, with her feet stuck into a pair of old espadrilles, she was finally beginning to relax.
    The phone rang just as the microwave pinged and Delva ignored it, reaching across to liberate the steaming food. After five rings the answering machine cut in. Delva picked up a knife to rip open the sachets of food but stopped when she heard the voice.
    â€˜Delva, it’s Megan Rhys. I’ve just been talking to Steve Foy from Wolverhampton police…’
    Delva dropped the knife and bounded across to the phone. ‘Hi Megan. Sorry about the answerphone – I was just getting something out of the microwave.’
    â€˜Oh, sorry,’ Megan said, ‘I’ll phone you back later, shall I?’
    â€˜No, it’s okay. What’s happened? Is it about the stabbing?’
    â€˜Yes. I’ve just been watching the interview you did with the victim’s husband and there are a couple of things I wanted to ask you, but it’s not urgent – honestly, I’ll call you back.’
    â€˜Well why don’t you pop round?’ Delva asked. ‘I’ve just opened a bottle of wine…’
    Half an hour later Megan was sitting on the huge squashy sofa in Delva’s living room.
    â€˜There you go.’ Delva handed her a glass of wine. ‘I’d offer you some food but I’ve just eaten the last thing