2
ONE OR TWO THINGS
‘Pull yourself together,’ he remonstrated gently in shocked disbelief, patting her on the shoulder, his heart racing at the unexpected warmth. ‘Who told you that? He was perfectly okay when I left him last night.’
‘You’d better come and see.’ She pulled away and stood back, slightly embarrassed at the close contact, and tried to wipe away her tears.
He followed her into the study and was struck dumb at the sight that met his eyes. His old friend Tom Conway was lying back at an unnatural angle in his armchair, with a gun in his hand and traces of dried blood that had been oozing from his head.
‘See? He’s left a note,’ she breathed behind him.
Careful not to touch anything, he edged around the desk and peered over his late friend’s shoulder. ‘It’s no use, I must put
