And Justice There Is None by Deborah Crombie Read Free Book Online

is it?” Turning over, she peered at her alarm clock. Was it seven already? “Shit,” she muttered, rolling out of bed and giving Duchess a hasty caress as she headed for the loo. She’d meant to be at the café before now. Several of them had formed a habit of meeting for early coffee and croissants before the Saturday morning trading got into full swing, and she was dying to tell someone about her project—especially Marc, if the truth be told. Whether or not her plan would work depended on him.
    When she’d scrubbed her face and pulled on jeans, boots and sweater, she took Duchess for a quick constitutional in the postage stamp of Powis Square, then set off for Elgin Crescent.
    A blanket of cloud hovered over the rooftops, obscuring the light of the rising sun, but at least it had not yet begun to rain. Bryony’slong strides devoured the distance from her flat to the café, and by the time she pushed open the door she’d worked up a rosy glow.
    Her friends sat in the back, gathered round two tables: Wesley, his ebullient dreadlocks sedated by a cap; Fern Adams, whose punk dress and makeup belied her knowledge of the antique silver she traded in the market; Marc, who flashed Bryony the quick smile he seemed to reserve just for her; and Otto, apron-clad, coffee pot in hand. Only Alex Dunn was missing.
    They all looked up at her with solemn faces as she came in, and no one offered a greeting.
    “What?” Bryony joked. “Did someone die?”
    When no one answered, she gazed at them with dawning horror. “Oh, no,” she whispered, sinking into the nearest chair. “Has something happened? Not Alex—”
    Otto upended a cup from the stack on the table and poured her a coffee, but it was Wesley who answered. “It’s Dawn Arrowood, the lady that Alex was, um, seeing. She was killed last night. Murdered.”
    “Mrs. Arrowood? But that’s not possible! She was just in the surgery yesterday, with her cat. Gavin saw them.” The pretty blond woman, so devoted to her cat, was one of the hospital’s regular clients. “I can’t believe it. What happened?”
    Marc shook his head. “That’s all we know for certain. Although rumors have been going around the market like wildfire since daybreak.”
    “Alex—” Bryony glanced uneasily at Fern, whom she knew had been Alex’s lover until recently. They had made an odd couple; Alex with his Oxford cloth shirts and Oxbridge haircut, Fern in glitter and camouflage, but their stalls were side by side in the market arcade, and Bryony had seen proximity make stranger bedfellows.
    “I told him,” Otto rumbled. “I told him it was a bad business. But I thought it was he who would come to harm.”
    “Does he know?”
    “No.” Fern tugged nervously at the silver ring in her eyebrow. “He was setting up his stall when I left. There were whispers round the arcade, but no one dared say anything to him.”
    “But what if he comes in?” asked Bryony. “We’ll have to—” She stopped as Fern’s eyes widened. Turning, she saw Alex Dunn pushing open the café door.
    “Morning, all,” he called out. “It’s going to be a bloody miserable day, but let’s hope that won’t dampen the Christmas shoppers’ enthusiasm. Has anyone got a newspaper? I’d no change for the newsagent this morning—”
    “Alex—” interrupted Wesley, then turned helplessly to Otto.
    His face creased with distress, Otto said, “I’m afraid we have some very bad news. Dawn Arrowood was murdered last night.”
    Alex stared at him. “If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not amusing. Just leave it alone, Otto. It’s my business.”
    “I am not joking, Alex. When I heard the first rumor this morning, I went to the house. There are still police everywhere, and I knew one of the constables. He told me it was the truth.”
    Blanching, Alex whispered, “No. There must be some mistake.”
    “There is no mistake,” Otto assured him grimly. “Karl Arrowood came home and found her in the