Read Want You Dead for Free Online Page A

into it, then turned to Roy Grace. ‘It seems like we’ve found a car half a mile up the road, which may be linked to the victim, although as yet we do not have any positive ID.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Apparently the keys are in the ignition and there’s a suicide note in the car. The Crime Scene Manager David Green’s at the vehicle,’ Hazeldine informed him. ‘He’s currently checking over the car. Crime Scene Investigator Claire Dennis had a brief look around the body, but hasn’t found anything to indicate foul play. There’s some petrol left in the can, and there is a search team on their way to see if we can find a match or a lighter.’
    Grace shook his head. ‘Christ, what a hell of a way to go. I think if I was going to top myself, I hope I’d have the presence of mind to find a less horrible way.’
    Hazeldine nodded. Glenn Branson did too.
    All the time, Grace’s mind was in overdrive. Suicide? Someone had once told him that barbiturates were the best way to kill yourself. You just went out feeling pleasantly woozy.
    Self-immolation in a muddy ditch?
    How agonizing would that have been? Shit.
    He turned away and said to DI Hazeldine, ‘Let’s go and see the car.’
    Grace and Branson followed the DI along a network of paths, passing a sign saying, BUGGIES THIS WAY , through a clearing in the woods, and arriving at a narrow country lane. An Audi estate, encircled in blue and white crime scene tape, was parked on the grass verge, with a uniformed PC scene guard in front. The tailgate was open and a figure in protective clothing was carefully inspecting the contents of the rear of the car. Another SOCO was taking photographs of the exterior of the car.
    ‘How are you doing, David?’ DI Hazeldine asked.
    The Crime Scene Manager turned and flipped back his hood as he saw Roy Grace. ‘Hi Roy!’ he said, with a broad smile. ‘Didn’t know you were a golfer! What’s your handicap?’
    ‘Not my game. Had a go a few times but I was rubbish.’
    ‘Me too – water hazards get me every time.’
    Grace gave him a wry smile. Humour was what got all coppers through the grimmest stuff. ‘So what do you have in the car?’
    ‘We’ve just had confirmation of the car’s owner from the PNC. A Dr Karl Murphy. Address in Brighton. There’s a golf bag and shoes in the back. And a suicide note on the front seat. Shit handwriting, but that’s doctors for you.’ He went around to the front, opened the driver’s door and pointed.
    Roy Grace saw a note inside a plastic evidence bag lying on the front seat. He snapped on a pair of gloves from his pocket, picked up the bag and studied the note. It was on lined paper, torn from what looked like a ringed notepad.
    I am so sorry. My will is with my executor, solicitor Maud Opfer of Opfer Dexter Associates. Life since Ingrid’s death is meaningless. I want to be united with her again. Please tell Dane and Ben I love them and will love them for ever and that their Daddy’s gone to take care of Mummy. Love you both so much. One day, when you are older, I hope you will find it in your hearts to forgive me. XX
    He felt moisture in his eyes. Could this ever be him? If something happened to Cleo, would Noah one day be handed a note telling him that his daddy had left him?
    God forbid.
    He read it through once more with a frown. Then he laid it back on the seat, pulled out his phone, took a photograph of it and also used his scanner app.
    He turned back to DI Hazeldine. ‘It does appear at the moment that this is a suicide, and not something for us. But I’d like you to get the note tested for prints. Get it copied and then send the original to the lab at Sussex House. I’ll leave DI Branson here, and send someone from Major Crime Team over to assist him with making enquiries, but my sense is it’s a divisional matter that you can deal with locally. But I’d like to have the car lifted and secured in case we need to do a fuller forensic examination of it after the PM