2019-11-01 People South Africa

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magnateWinstonCarter’slifeless
bodywasslumpedoverhisdesk,
bloodpouringfroma bulletwound
inhishead.
WinstonhadcalledHalearlierthat
week.“I thinkmysonis fiddling
thebooks,”he’dgrowled.“I reckon
he’sdoingdealsbehindmyback
withourcompetition.”
Winstonhadrecentlymovedhis
familyoutofthecitytoliveinhis
newestdevelopment––anhistoric
orphanagehewasabouttoopen
asa hotel.
They’dmadeanappointmentfor
Haltovisitandwhenhe’dpulled
upinfrontoftheimposingthree-
storeyfacade,he’dexpectedsome
sortofreception.Whenhegot
none,Halhadlethimselfinthe
unlockedfrontdoor,andthrough
thehotel’sgrandfoyertofind
Winston’soffice.
Halcouldalsoseethatyellowing
bruisesdecoratedtheknuckleson
Howard’srighthand.
“Thatbruiseis thewrongcolour
tobefroma recentbrawl,”Hal
thought.Hecalledthepolice,then
racedoutoftheofficetoseeif the
culpritwasstillinsidethehotel.
JustoutsideonthelawnHal
spottedthefiguresoftwomen
doingsit-ups.
Halwalkedoutsideandashe
gotcloser,herealisedonewas
Winston’sson,Chester––he
recognisedhimfrompictureshe’d
seeninthesocietypages.
“Excuseme!”hebarkeduntilthe
men removedtheirheadphones.
“I’mprivate
investigatorHal
Spears––I’m
hereatMr
Carter’s
request.
Didyou

y p p p

weexercise.Whywouldtherebea

loudnoise?”

Theothermansaid,“Hassomeone

attackedMrCarter?Wouldn’tbe

surprisedif theyhad.Thewayhe

treatedMaggie––uh,MrsCarter.”

“Andyouare?”Halasked.

“TobyScott,”themanreplied.

“I’mChester’spersonaltrainer,

andMrsCarter’spersonaltrainer,

too.”

“Andhowlonghaveyoubeen

trainingheretoday?”Halasked.

“We’vebeenouthereabout 10

minutes.BeforethatI wasinthe

kitchenandTobywasarriving,”

Chestersaid.

“Wasanyoneelseinsidethe

housewithyou?”

“Justmyaunt,”hesaid.“Look

I knowthere’snolovelost

betweenmeandmyfatherbut...

butno-one’sattackedhim,right?”

Insteadofanswering,Halstormed

backinsidethehotel.

Hewaswalkingbackthroughthe

foyerwhenheheardthesound

ofa carrunningoutside.He

dashedoutandfounda blonde

womanbehindthewheelof a

blackSaab.”

MrsCarter?”heasked.

“No,I’mhersister,Catherine,”

thewomanrepliedcoolly.I’ve

justcomebackfromthegrocery

store.”Halleantagainsttheopen

window.Theairnowinsidethe

carwascool,notyetwarmedup

bytheheaterthatwassetto 25

degrees.“IsMrsCarterhome?”

“No,butI’mexpectingherhome

anyminutenow,”Catherine

replied.“Nowwhoareyou?”

ButHaldidn’thavetimeto

answerthatquestion.Hecould

hearpolicesirensinthedistance

andtheyhadtoapprehend

so eone.Goodthingheknew

whichsuspect to arrest.

TICKETINSPECTORLENNYhad

calledthepolice,andarrangedforthe

drivertoterminatethetrain’sjourney

atthenextstation,whereDetective

SergeantAbbySweetandhersenior

constablewerewaitingforhim.

“Therewereonlyfourpeople

travellinginfirstclass,”hetoldthem,

ashewelcomedthemaboardthe

HeartlandFlyerandledthemthrough

thedesertedcarriages,where

newspapersandpapercoffeecups

hadbeenabandoned.

“Thedeadman’snameisAlan

Christie,”Lennywenton.“AndI

believetheotherthreepassengers

arehiswife,Tess,andtheirtwo

teenagers,ArcherandDolly.”

AlanChristiewassoobesethathisfat

wasspillingoverthearmrestsofhis

seat.Hewasslumpedforward,mouth

slack,hisheadalmostrestingonhis

bulgingbelly.Apenknifewassticking

outofhisneck.

Lennyretreatedtogetthemcoffees

fromthecafecar.AsAbbyentered

thecarriage,shesawthatArcher,

whosehairwasstyledlikesomeonein

aboyband,wassittingatthefarend,

takingaselfiewithhisphone.

“Bitinsensitive,giventhe

circumstances,”Abbyscolded.“My

dadwasapain,”Archersaidsimply,

withoutalteringhispose.“Besides,

thelightinginhereistoogoodtopass

up.”

AslimandstylishTesssniffed,“I’m

sorryabouthim.He’sjustupset,”as

shecameforwardtoshakehands.

“I’mnot,”Archermouthed.

“Wherewereyoutravellingto?”Abby

asked.

“Alanthoughtitwouldbeniceto

haveafamilyweekendatthebeach,”

Tesssaidthroughhertears.

“Even though we all hateeach other’s

guts!”Dollysaid.

“Givemeyouraccountofwhat

happened,please,”Abbyasked.

“IsatbesideAlanandnotlong

afterwedepartedIdozedoff.

Webothdid,actually.Iwokeup

whenIheardArchercallingfor

theticketinspector.Iturnedto

Alanand...”“Soyoudiscovered

themurder?”Abbyturnedback

toArcher.

“That’sright,”hesaid,almost

proudly.“Dadstartedsnoring

loudlyaboutfiveminutesinto

thetrip.Imovedtotheopposite

endofthecarriageandputmy

earphonesintodrownhimout.

Ihadmybacktothemboth.”

“Maybeifhe’dlostsomeweight

hewouldn’thavesnored

likeatrain,”Dollyquipped

“Anyway,whenIheardthesnoring

stop,Ithoughthe’dwokenupsoI

wenttomovebacktomyoriginal

seat,”Archerwenton.“That’swhen

Isawtheknifestickingoutandcalled

fortheticketinspector.”

“AndwhataboutyouDolly?”Abby

asked.

Dollywasdressedinadesigner

outfitandherperfectlycoiffured

hairswishedaroundhershouldersas

shespoke.“Iwasreadingthebible

atfirst,”shesaid,smilingserenely.

“Thebible?”Scottyfrowned.Dolly

heldupacopyofafashionmagazine,

laughing.

“About 10 minuteslater,Iwenttothe

bathroom,”shecontinued.“WhenI

cameback,Mumwasmakingascene

andIrealisedDadwasdead.”

“IthinkI’mentitledtomakea

scenewhenmyhusband’sjust

beenbutcheredbyoneofmyown

children!”shecried.

“Who’stosayitwasn’tyou?”Archer

taunted.“YouandDadhavebeen

arguinganawfullotsincehehadan

affairwithhissecretary.”

“Howdidyouknowaboutthat?”Tess

barked.Archersmiledandtappedthe

sideofhisnose.

“Andyoustayedwithhim,Mum,”

Dollysaid,shakingherhead.

“Seriously.Getsomeself-respect.”

Abbyhadheardenough.

“Scotty,I’mparched,”she

said.

“Goandseewhere

Lennyhasgot

towiththose

coffees.I’ve

gotanarrest to

make.”

Who Shot

Winston

Carter?

A. Chester

B. Toby

C. Catherine Answer:

CATHERINEC:

A: Answer:

ARCHER

Who

Killed

Alan?

A. Archer

B. Tess

C. Dolly

Homicide

HOTEL

MURDER

TRACKS TO