Doris had her doubtful look on. ‘That’s an awful lot of suspects,’ she said.
A cantankerous wind rattled the window in agreement.
We were sitting in my living room the morning after the murder staring at the whiteboard I’d propped on the mantlepiece. On the whiteboard were the names I’d extracted from the voice recording – Brad the handyman, Angie and Hu from Melbourne, and Barb and Monica from Betty’s Bakehouse – along with the names of those we had seen: Joe Cousins and Bob Machin at the front desk, Brendan Taylor the plumber, and Kathy Williams who had literally bumped into Doris in one of the stalls.
We stared and stared, neither of us knowing where to start. I was aware that I should have been working, but I told myself the feature for Southern Lifestyle could wait. This was much m
