‘Owe, owe, owe. You use that word so much. A family is not a credit card.’

Heads up: I know this is basically the ‘Why Don’t You Just Walk Away’ scene, perhaps with some healthy lashings of ‘This Doesn’t Concern You’. I’m aware, as I was at the time, that this is often a tactic to stop a nosy investigator (me) from uncovering something about the person asking them to back off (in this case, Sofia). This is not to be confused with a ‘You’re Off The Case’ scene, which would be Crawford’s problem, not mine. But Sofia’s motives were clear to me. If I walked away and Michael left this resort in cuffs, the money would stay with me. And I wouldn’t hang on to it for another three years, let alone another twenty-five; I’d spend it. Or give it away. I didn’t read her attempt as trying to divert attention away from herself, but rather to remove Michael’s piece from the board, leaving the money up for grabs. And if she was trying to frame him, she’d be trying harder, goading me instead of warning me off. I was convinced that she had a selfish motive, but not a murderous one.

‘Ernest?’ A voice came from the doorway. I turned to see Juliette peering into the bar. ‘Officer Crawford says it’s okay now.’

I waved my agreement, stood and said almost apologetically to Sofia, ‘I should hear him out. Figure out his alibi for last night, at least.’

‘Oh, I get it now.’ She punched me playfully on the arm. ‘Ernie, you jealous sod.’

‘I’m not—’

‘But you are. You don’t care about Green Boots. You just want to find out where Michael and Erin really were last night.’

You know what scene we’re in now. It’s called ‘Sex Is Always A Motive’.

‘He lied to me. Us,’ I admitted. ‘I’m curious.’

‘Twice actually.’

‘Huh?’

‘He lied to you twice. Furniture? Storage units? Seriously? That thing’s a monstrosity. I bet all his stuff’s at Lucy’s place anyway, just as he left it. They were still together when he went to jail, remember?’ She shook her head like she was stating the obvious.

‘I’m not following.’

‘Ask him what’s really in the damn truck, Ernie.’

CHAPTER 17

Juliette was waiting for me in the corridor. At first I thought maybe she’d taken my lack of mechanical aptitude as a sign that I was too dim to follow the arrows pointing to the Drying Room, until I realised she was leading me against the arrows. I had no idea where we were going. Sometimes books like these have maps behind the front cover, and the resort layout might have come in handy at this point.

‘We haven’t met properly,’ I said, as she threaded me through housekeeping carts vomiting fluffy white towels. ‘People call me Ern.’