'Til Death (DI Steven Marr Book 1) - UK Crime Fiction Whodunnit Thriller by SP Edwards Page B
Authors: SP Edwards
Ads: Link
was just born tough. The first day I met her, she strolled right over to me and said ‘I want that book’. Needless to say she got it, along with a lifetime friendships. What a waste…’
All the things Thomas was saying, Marr would expect someone who’d just lost a loved one to say. But the tone…it wasn’t quite right. Thomas sounded like he was reading lines from a play: he was an actor who hadn’t yet mastered the text.
‘What did you think of Anna’s fiancée?’ Marr asked, receiving a barked laugh in response.
‘Ah yes, the caveman. Well, I won’t mince words: I don’t think she could have made a worse choice.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Well, I presume you’ve met Greg by now?’
Marr nodded.
‘He seemed like a nice enough guy.’
Thomas smiled.
‘Did you actually think that, or did you just think he was a bit dim?’
‘I’m assuming you thought the latter.’
Thomas sighed
‘Greg’s clearly a decent looking guy – but I just thought he was too basic for Anna. She was beautiful, clever, sophisticated…I thought she probably could have done better than a former soldier.’
‘What’s wrong with a soldier?’ Marr asked, and Thomas smiled and wagged his finger.
‘You won’t catch me out like that inspector. One poorly phrased comment and I’ll be splashed over the local papers: ‘Army hating murder suspect’. No, I don’t have a problem with soldiers. What they do is incredibly brave, and they deserve respect. But it’s pointless to pretend that they aren’t mostly a bit dim, especially the ones who go in when they’re seventeen. I mean, show me an intelligent person who sees footage of desert warfare and thinks, ‘I’ll have a piece of that’.
Thomas sounded like he was auditioning for a television panel show. Every word he spoke sounded like it was for some external audience. Like he was playing to a room that only he could see.
‘Did you ever voice your concerns to Anna?’ Marr asked. Thomas just smiled again. The smile reminded Marr of a text Lizzie had sent him once.
‘It’s like playing chess with a pigeon; no matter what you say or do, the pigeon is still going to knock all the pieces over, shit on the board and walk around like it’s won.’
Thomas was definitely the pigeon.
‘I think I probably got drunk and said something once,’ he continued ‘But there was little point me wagering some kind of sustained campaign against him. For starters, every idiot knows that the worst possible way to try and split a couple up is to attack the boyfriend: it’s an invitation to protect him. Secondly, this was Anna. She was stubborn and knew what she wanted: and like it or not, she wanted Greg. Her mind simply wasn’t for changing.’
Marr nodded, agreeing the point. Marr didn’t doubt that had anyone attacked Gregor, Anna probably would have defended him.
What perplexed Marr was how someone like Thomas – who whatever else he might have been, obviously had some brains – could struggle to understand why a girl would fall in love with Gregor Stanic. A hard-working, well-off, in-shape tough guy who was obviously dedicated to his wife.
But then men like Thomas, in Marr’s experience, could be pretty selective about where they aimed that all-knowing ‘perception’. Sure, you could learn to be perceptive; to analyse people and situations with a bit more depth. But what would you see if that gaze turned inwards?
‘What about Caroline Marcus?’
‘What about her?’
‘You were friends with Anna, and she was friends with Caroline. I assume that you knew her, too?’
‘A bit, but I didn’t see her that much. We were definitely only surface friends. Caroline was fine, don’t misunderstand me, but we never would have gotten on at a deeper level.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, Caroline – and I don’t mean to sound too cold here – Caroline was just a bit of a drama queen. She seemed to crave hysterics. It seemed like whenever I met her she was in
All the things Thomas was saying, Marr would expect someone who’d just lost a loved one to say. But the tone…it wasn’t quite right. Thomas sounded like he was reading lines from a play: he was an actor who hadn’t yet mastered the text.
‘What did you think of Anna’s fiancée?’ Marr asked, receiving a barked laugh in response.
‘Ah yes, the caveman. Well, I won’t mince words: I don’t think she could have made a worse choice.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Well, I presume you’ve met Greg by now?’
Marr nodded.
‘He seemed like a nice enough guy.’
Thomas smiled.
‘Did you actually think that, or did you just think he was a bit dim?’
‘I’m assuming you thought the latter.’
Thomas sighed
‘Greg’s clearly a decent looking guy – but I just thought he was too basic for Anna. She was beautiful, clever, sophisticated…I thought she probably could have done better than a former soldier.’
‘What’s wrong with a soldier?’ Marr asked, and Thomas smiled and wagged his finger.
‘You won’t catch me out like that inspector. One poorly phrased comment and I’ll be splashed over the local papers: ‘Army hating murder suspect’. No, I don’t have a problem with soldiers. What they do is incredibly brave, and they deserve respect. But it’s pointless to pretend that they aren’t mostly a bit dim, especially the ones who go in when they’re seventeen. I mean, show me an intelligent person who sees footage of desert warfare and thinks, ‘I’ll have a piece of that’.
Thomas sounded like he was auditioning for a television panel show. Every word he spoke sounded like it was for some external audience. Like he was playing to a room that only he could see.
‘Did you ever voice your concerns to Anna?’ Marr asked. Thomas just smiled again. The smile reminded Marr of a text Lizzie had sent him once.
‘It’s like playing chess with a pigeon; no matter what you say or do, the pigeon is still going to knock all the pieces over, shit on the board and walk around like it’s won.’
Thomas was definitely the pigeon.
‘I think I probably got drunk and said something once,’ he continued ‘But there was little point me wagering some kind of sustained campaign against him. For starters, every idiot knows that the worst possible way to try and split a couple up is to attack the boyfriend: it’s an invitation to protect him. Secondly, this was Anna. She was stubborn and knew what she wanted: and like it or not, she wanted Greg. Her mind simply wasn’t for changing.’
Marr nodded, agreeing the point. Marr didn’t doubt that had anyone attacked Gregor, Anna probably would have defended him.
What perplexed Marr was how someone like Thomas – who whatever else he might have been, obviously had some brains – could struggle to understand why a girl would fall in love with Gregor Stanic. A hard-working, well-off, in-shape tough guy who was obviously dedicated to his wife.
But then men like Thomas, in Marr’s experience, could be pretty selective about where they aimed that all-knowing ‘perception’. Sure, you could learn to be perceptive; to analyse people and situations with a bit more depth. But what would you see if that gaze turned inwards?
‘What about Caroline Marcus?’
‘What about her?’
‘You were friends with Anna, and she was friends with Caroline. I assume that you knew her, too?’
‘A bit, but I didn’t see her that much. We were definitely only surface friends. Caroline was fine, don’t misunderstand me, but we never would have gotten on at a deeper level.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, Caroline – and I don’t mean to sound too cold here – Caroline was just a bit of a drama queen. She seemed to crave hysterics. It seemed like whenever I met her she was in
Similar Books
