Appeal Denied: A Cliff Hardy Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

before.’
    ‘Before you?’
    ‘Yeah, but more so since the investigation into Lily’s murder.’
    The light dropped as the clouds moved west and blocked out the weakening rays of the sun. In a way, against what I’d been feeling just before this latest titbit of information, I wanted to get clear of Townsend, the house, the city, the country if need be. Use up some frequent flier points and get as far away as … where? Norfolk Island? Lord Howe? Wouldn’t help.
    ‘Has she told you who the IT guy is?’
    ‘No, but she might.’
    ‘What happened to DS Williams? I thought he was in charge. He’s the one who talked to me initially.’
    ‘Apparently he’s out of the picture. There’s your next starting point.’
    I still didn’t like his one-upping style. He was dedicated but quite what to was hard to say. I agreed to work with him as best I could—finding out about Gregory, having a talk to Williams, while he got what he could from Constable Farrow. We exchanged numbers and agreed to stay in touch. I was sure he was holding something back but so was I. Lily had used my computer from time to time, and recently. And she’d always carried a thumb drive with her.
    I had a few words with various people as I made my way out and found Tony sitting by himself, staring at his orange juice. He was stone cold sober, so the drink was exactly what it seemed.
    ‘She was so good to me, Cliff. Always there, even when I was doing fucking stupid things.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘I can’t believe she’s gone. It just doesn’t seem right.’
    ‘It isn’t.’
    ‘I’ve been thinking. You’re a detective, right? I’ve phoned the cops a couple of times but they don’t tell me anything. Maybe you can find out …’
    ‘I’m on it already, Tony. I’ll let you know how it goes and I know I can call on you if I need any help.’
    He nodded. ‘Yeah. You bet.’
    The party was winding down but a mob of stayers was settling in. Coffee was being served and I stopped to get some and eat two more sandwiches, thinking that after a bit of a walk I’d be okay to drive. As I was finishing the coffee a middle-aged man approached me.
    ‘Mr Hardy, I’m Patrick Henke.’
    We shook hands. ‘I seem to know the name,’ I said.
    ‘Ms Truscott’s solicitor.’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘This is a terrible thing, terrible. Such a … such a very able woman.’
    ‘Yes, well …’
    ‘She mentioned you a few times over the past couple of years as I handled some things for her. I’ll be sending you a formal letter, but since you’re here it seems appropriate to tell you now. Ms Truscott’s will divides her estate, which consists of a considerable number of very solid shares and her house in Greenwich, between her brother Anthony and yourself.’
    I walked the Hunters Hill streets for over an hour without knowing where I was or where I was going. I was stunned by what Henke had told me. It made me rethink my relationship with Lily. It had seemed to me to be equally loose and open-ended on both sides. But perhaps it wasn’t.
    I’d never given a thought to leaving anything in my will to anyone other than my daughter Megan. All it’d amount to was the Glebe house. That was worth a fair amount even in its neglected state, but I wasn’t planning to shuffle off for quite some time. Lily would have thought the same, but she’d made a different decision.
    I wondered if Henke had told Tony. Probably not, given Tony’s fragile state. I wondered how he’d take it.
    Why hadn’t she told me? Was she waiting for me to say something along the lines of putting our relationship on a different footing? It made me wish we’d talked more about ‘us’, something we almost never did, as if we were both afraid that to talk about it would spoil it. And now it was spoilt well and truly. Again, I felt guilty: I hadn’t paid proper attention to her work, and now it seemed I hadn’t paid proper attention to her feelings.
    But one thing was for sure: licence or no