Here we go, next one! Thanks for all the kind reviews.

All belongs to Robert Thorogood and Red Planet Pictures/Atlantique Production

Chapter 14

Humphrey took the cheque from Camille and stared at Sir Selwyn's signature.

"But that's impossible," he murmured.

Camille passed a hand over her face, looking a little stunned. "Well, if that is what it looks like, it is finally proof that no one is incorruptible."

"You can't possibly believe that the Commissioner in this?"

"Truthfully?" She turned her dazed face to his. "Humphrey, I don't know what to believe any more. He is a wily man and a manipulator, that is true – but this?" She shook her head. "There has to be a mistake. I know Sir Selwyn well enough to be confident that he would never be involved in the drugs trade – or any crime. He's a good man – honourable, law-abiding. He always has been."

He nodded towards the stacks of papers. "You didn't find anything relating to his office or the Residency?"

"Not yet…" She looked at the papers without enthusiasm.

"There has to be something that explains this." He stared at the amount - $150,000 was a heck of a lot of money, and he couldn't think of any legitimate reason why Sir Selwyn needed to pay this much money to a lowly gardener.

"It might not be what it seems," Camille said, suddenly. "What if…what if he broke into Sir Selwyn's office during that party and stole a blank signed cheque?"

"Surely the Commissioner wouldn't be foolish enough to leave blank cheques lying around?"

"OK, well, maybe he forged the signature?"

"It's a possibility." Suddenly, he was sick of the dirty little house and the eerily quiet village. His knee was throbbing and he was guiltily aware that he'd spent far too long standing on it against his doctor's advice – she'd told him that it wouldn't heal properly unless he rested it. "Look, let's just box the whole lot up and take it back to the station. Perhaps Fidel will be able to work his magic and find something."

"Ye-es," she said, slowly. "Although…don't you think it would be better to give Sir Selwyn a chance to explain this before Dwayne and Fidel find out? It wouldn't do any good for them to think that he's guilty of anything. After all, he is their boss, in a way."

"And yours," he pointed out. "And mine too, come to that. Well, let's box it up anyway and we can decide when we get back to Honore. I want to catch up with the others and see where we are with the other strands of the investigation."

The team kept a pile of folded crates in the back of the jeep for the purpose of removing large amounts of evidence. Humphrey and Camille emptied the house of all the paperwork, and Humphrey put the wallet containing the Euros and Patterson's cheque in his inner jacket pocket. He risked his bad knee on the rickety stairs to check the cramped little bedrooms upstairs but although it was clear that one room at least was in use, he had no better luck than Camille. In the end, he gave up and stuck police tape across the door once it had been relocked by Mme Josephine. Not that that would stop the criminals, but he hoped that it would be enough to keep curious kids out of the house.

He checked his watch as they drove out of the village, and was shocked to see that it was already 3PM. "We were there longer than I thought."

"How are you feeling? Tired?"

"Actually, no. Not too bad." He was surprised to realise that it was true. The exertions of yesterday and the lingering traces of the sedative would certainly catch up with him at some point, but at the moment, he felt able to carry on with the investigation. His knee was a bit of a problem, but there were ways around that.

She glanced at him. "Case adrenaline."

"Yes, you're probably right. We'll be paying for it soon."

"Mmm…" She focused on the road for a few minutes. "Do you want to go back to the station or to see the Commissioner first?"

He sighed. "I can't help feeling these two cases are linked in some way… Well, the Commissioner will have to wait for now. I want to get back to the office for now."

They continued in silence for about ten minutes - Camille concentrating on the road and Humphrey contemplating the scenery. There was more traffic on the road now; generally business picked up after 3PM when the sweltering temperatures began to drop a little.

As they entered the outskirts of Honore, Camille broke the silence. "Humphrey, I… I wanted to apologise for what I said yesterday. It was wrong of me to interfere."

Her voice was a little stilted and Humphrey glanced at her, surprised. She focused on the road, not meeting his eyes.

"It's OK - really. You were concerned about me, that's all. It's just that…well, I know I come across as quite incapable of looking after myself, but -," he laughed, deprecatingly. "- I wouldn't have got as far as I have without having some sense."

"I didn't mean to suggest that you couldn't look after yourself."

"I know – and I willtake a rest when this is over. We'll both take a couple of days' sick leave, because I'll bet those bruises of yours are a bit sore too. And that's an order," he added quickly, as she opened her mouth to object.

She paused, her mouth curving into a rueful smile. "OK. You've got me there, Sir."

He smiled and then sighed wistfully. "A quiet day in a hammock with a couple of beers and absolutely nothing to do sounds just wonderful right now." He glanced at Camille. "You could – um… you could join me? If you like."

The pause was just a little too long for his pounding heart. Eventually, she answered, quite calmly. "Thank you, Humphrey. I would like that."

"Great, that's…great… Well…" They were just pulling up outside the police station, and he fought to refocus his mind on the matters at hand. "Let's see where we're at with both investigations."

Fidel was at his desk and looked up as Humphrey and Camille came in. "Sir, I was just about to contact you. The toxicology results have come through. The samples on the first five victims contained a cocktail consisting of cocaine and a herb grown on the island -."

"Let me guess," Camille broke in. "Calea ternifolia, am I right?"

Fidel looked startled, but nodded. "Yes, that's right, and they said the combination might not cause a fatality in around 95% of cases, but that it carried a higher risk of sudden cardiac death in an unlucky few. It just depends. So, it's probably been circulating for a while and the deaths are only just starting to trickle through to our attention. But here's the really interesting thing. Emilia Lawrence was not killed by the same combination. She was killed by a speedball – a high-dose combination of cocaine and heroin. The pathologist thought it was probably administered intravenously, so I phoned the hospital and asked them to check for puncture wounds. And they found one – in her upper right arm. They didn't spot it before, because it was hidden beneath a cigarette burn."

"An attempt to disguise it?" Humphrey wondered. "What about the traces of the drug found in her mouth?"

"They were placed there after her death – confirmed by the fact that she hadn't inhaled any of that drug." Fidel paused. "There's something else. Speedballs have a higher risk of sudden cardiac death, but it's usually delayed. The cocaine's stimulant effects wear off more quickly than the heroin's depressive effects – and it's the heroin in isolation that is the greatest risk, as it's too easy to accidentally overdose on heroin while the cocaine is masking the effects. So, what that means is that she could have taken the drug some time before she actually died."

"We did wonder about that four-hour gap between 2.30 and 6.30," Camille murmured.

"True." Humphrey looked around as Dwayne walked into the office. "OK, listen up. It's likely that Emilia Lawrence's death was a case of murder or manslaughter rather than an accidental overdose. We need to build up a picture of what happened at that party – who she spoke to, who approached her, whether her brother saw her alive after 2.30 and, in particular, who the man was that she was seen arguing with at between 6.30 and 7.00. Let's get another interview with Charisse Williams, that American girl who overheard them – see if she can remember anything else. We know that he was tall and fair-haired. It may have been her brother…"

"We're bringing him in shortly," Dwayne confirmed. "He's out sailing, but we radio'ed the owner and he expects to be back at 4. I'll be there to meet him and bring him straight here."

"Thanks." Humphrey limped over to his desk; his knee was starting to bother him again. "Damn. I really must elevate this and get some ice on it."

"Bit late for that," Camille muttered, but she walked into the staff kitchen, where there was a small fridge-freezer, and returned with a frozen gel pack and a tea towel. Humphrey was soon sitting down with his leg propped up and a cold pack wrapped around the swollen knee.

Under his instruction, Fidel and Camille pulled the noticeboard out of its usual corner and started sticking photographs, arrows and notes on it. When Dwayne returned with Eddie Lawrence, they quickly turned it to face the wall, so he wouldn't see his own photograph in a prominent position in relation to his sister's.

Humphrey took an instant dislike to Emilia's older brother. Eddie was a sullen-looking young man, his delicate good looks marred by the apparently permanent expression of dissatisfaction on his face. Not a patch on Emilia, he couldn't help but think, and had to remind himself that this young man had suffered a very recent bereavement. With that in mind, he hid his personal feelings behind a kind smile and indicated the chair on the other side of his desk.

"Take a seat – and forgive me for not getting up, but I need to keep the weight off my knee. I'm sorry to have to bother you, but we need to fill in a few gaps in our understanding of the party where your sister lost her life. I'm terribly sorry about that, by the way."

"Of course." Eddie sat down a little warily. "If I can help, I will, but I really don't remember that much about Saturday night."

"Well, let me take you a little further back. In the afternoon, you went to a party at the Old Residency, is that right?"

The young man wrinkled his nose. "Dad dragged us along, because the Police Commissioner is one of his old friends. It was pretty boring – in the end, I got a friend of mine to ring me so I could make an excuse to leave."

"Yes, but before you did, you made a connection, didn't you?" Humphrey watched Eddie's face carefully. "You met a man who promised to sell you cocaine. There's no point in denying that, because we already know you bought something at the other party. But you met the seller at the Residency party, didn't you? Do you know his name?"

Eddie hesitated for a moment, looking worried. Camille broke in, soothingly. "We know that it was one of two brothers, either Daniel or Antoine Le Fondre. All you have to do is confirm that. You're not revealing anything that we didn't already know."

"Daniel," Eddie muttered, quietly. "He said his name was Daniel."

Humphrey and Camille exchanged glances. Daniel was the older of Mme Josephine's two teenaged boys, old enough to be tried as an adult, so this identification was bad news for him. Drug possession and supply carried a potential sentence of up to fifteen years, and that was assuming he was arrested before he came to harm at the hands of the man that he and his brother were currently travelling with. If their boss discovered that they'd been siphoning off the drugs to sell them privately, Humphrey didn't fancy their chances.

"OK, so you arranged to meet Daniel at your friend's party to buy the drug. What friend was that – Benny Haines?"

"It wasn't at his house – it was someone he knew." The boy sounded uncomfortable. "You know how it goes – you hear about these parties from someone else…"

"But you must have known where it was before you left the Residency, because you arranged a meeting time with Daniel."

"Yeah, OK, it was a friend of Benny's. I hadn't been there before, but Benny knew where it was."

"OK. So you left the Residency - when?"

"About five-ish."

"And you arrived at your friend's party at what time?"

"Not until 12.30."

It was like drawing blood out of a stone. "So, what did you do between 5 and 12.30?"

Eddie shrugged. "Not much. Mooched around a bit. Met Benny. Hung out down at the harbour. Went to a couple of bars."

"Did you see Emilia before the party?"

"No, she was with Mum and Dad at the Residency. When I saw her at the party, she told me they went home not long after I left. And then she went out with her friends for the evening, and they were in town, but I didn't see them. There's lots of bars along the strip."

"True." Humphrey glanced down at the file, open on his desk, although he didn't really need to. "So, you didn't see Emilia until she arrived at the party – according to Benny's testimony, that was around 2.30 in the morning."

The boy gave a jerky nod of assent.

"And Benny says you argued." Humphrey looked at Eddie. "Or at least, you said something that annoyed her and she walked away."

Eddie looked at his hands. "I didn't mean to upset her. It's just she… she was just so judgemental, you know? I do – I did – love her, but I hated the way she followed me around, trying to take control of my life. I couldn't get away from her – especially not here. It was easier at home, when I was away at Uni, but they kicked me out last term because of the drugs. And she was always nagging me, telling me that I was ruining my life, trying to get me to go to rehab… Even at the party, trying to get me to go home straightaway…"

Humphrey frowned. "So, why did you invite her to join you?"

Eddie looked confused. "Invite her? But I didn't. I wasn't expecting her to turn up. I didn't realise she even knew that part of town."

Humphrey glanced at his notes again and shared a glance with Camille. "According to the friends she was out with, she received a text message from you, which is why she left them to go to the party."

Eddie shook his head, vehemently. "Well, it wasn't from me. They must have misunderstood. She'd be the last person that I'd invite to that kind of party."

Humphrey believed him. There was an air of shame about this oversized child. It was clear that he felt responsible for his sister's death – as well he might if this had been a simple case of an accidental drugs overdose. However, that seemed increasingly unlikely.

He asked, "Did anyone use your phone while you were there? Is there any chance someone could have texted her and she might have thought it was you?"

"Well, I didn't lend my phone to anyone. Someone might've nicked it, but then why would they go to the trouble of putting it back in my pocket?"

"Eddie," Camille asked, urgently. "Did Emilia tell you why she was there? Did she say someone had arranged to meet her there?"

He shook his head. "She didn't say. I would have asked her, but I was a bit fed up because I'd arranged to meet Daniel between 2.30 and 3.00 to make the deal, and she had interrupted me. I was feeling tense about that, and I wanted to get rid of her – not in that sense -," he added, hurriedly, "- just I didn't want her to see what I was doing. I remember... Benny was there, and when I introduced them, I think I might have made some stupid comment about Benny keeping her occupied while I… well, I didn't say exactly, but I implied I would be getting some drugs. I hoped that she'd be disgusted enough to leave the party. She did walk away, but not before saying that she wouldn't be leaving. I made my meeting with Daniel and bought the joint off him – I wasn't expecting it to be a joint, but he said it was something special. After that, I was looking around for a quiet spot where I wouldn't be interrupted, so I could try it. I went into the lounge, but I thought I saw Emilia in the vicinity, so I backed out. And then I bumped into a girl I know. I've slept with her once or twice, kind of casually – you know, and she's usually good for a bit of a laugh. She was smoking pot, so we shared a joint and a bottle of wine and then went upstairs to one of the bedrooms." He paused, not quite meeting Humphrey's eyes. "I passed out and didn't wake up until about 8.00 in the morning."

Humphrey looked at Camille again and could see his own astonishment mirrored in her eyes. What a piece of work this Eddie Lawrence was! Not only had he left his sister alone at an unsavoury party, he'd actually sought to avoid her, hiding away from her by getting stoned and drunk and having casual sex with a girl who was 'good for a laugh' as he put it.

"So, what made you go looking for her in the morning?" he asked, quietly. "You must have thought she'd given up on you and left, surely?"

"Dunno," the boy muttered, looking anywhere but directly at his interrogators. Either he sensed their disgust at his behaviour or, quite possibly, he was feeling a healthy dose of it himself. "Just had a feeling, that's all. Dunno, really."

"Did you go straight to the lounge? I mean, you didn't try any of the upstairs rooms first or anything?"

"Yeah." Eddie looked a little startled. "Yeah, I did. Don't know why really." He paused, seeming to ponder the question. "I guess it was the last place I saw her, or thought I did, so maybe it was subconscious…"

"When you found her… was she alone? Do you remember seeing anyone else near her?"

The boy paused again, frowning. "I don't think so… I mean, there were a few people passed out around the room – you know. A couple on the sofa, someone on a chair, and someone else slumped over on the floor by the door. I remember I had to step over him."

"And you didn't recognise anyone in particular?" Humphrey persisted.

"I can't be totally sure. I mean, I saw her… I saw her hair down by the side of the sofa, so I was focused on that. And then, when I walked around the sofa and saw her properly…" He swallowed, looking close to tears. "I shouted for help, and then the next thing I knew, there was a girl calling an ambulance, and some bloke I didn't recognise was bending over her, trying to give her the kiss of life. But he said it was hopeless, that she'd already gone. And then the paramedics arrived and they tried too…"

His voice trailed away and he ran a hand over his eyes.

"I'm really sorry, Eddie," Humphrey murmured. "I know this is difficult. Do you want a drink of water?"

"No, it's OK," the young man muttered, not looking at him. "Was there… was there anything else you needed to know?"

"Just one thing. Did you see anyone at the partythat Emilia might have known? Any friend, or anyone you'd seen her talking to in the past?"

He shook his head. "No, not that I recall…but then we didn't exactly move in the same circles." Was it his imagination, or was there a degree of bitterness in Eddie's tone?

"And was there anyone there that you didn't expect to see? Anyone who wouldn't normally have been at one of those parties?"

"Apart from Emilia, you mean? I didn't see anyone unusual. She's the only one who stood out."

Humphrey was about to tell him that he could go when Camille, who'd been frowning in contemplation, suddenly spoke. "Just one more thing, Eddie. You said that shortly after you made your transaction with Daniel, you saw Emilia in the lounge – or you thought you did. What did you mean by that?"

Eddie gave her an odd look. "I meant exactly that. I didn't see her clearly because it was pretty dark in there, but I saw her hair." He pulled an ironic face. "There weren't all that many white people there and we were the only two with really blond hair."

"So you identified her by her head?" Camille checked, and when Eddie nodded, she raised an eyebrow at Humphrey. "Are you certain it was Emilia's head you saw? It couldn't have been someone who was taller, for example?"

"No…well - that is, it might have been." He was frowning now. "I don't think I gave it much thought. Just saw a flash of blond hair and thought I'd better get out of there before she saw me."

Seeing that Camille had no further questions, Humphrey nodded at Eddie. "OK, thank you. You can go now, but we may need to talk to you again, so stick around, please. No flying home or anything."

"As if I could," the boy muttered, as he stood up. He hesitated, looking down as his feet as he spoke again. "Look – I know what you think of me. You're probably right. But you just try living up to 'little Miss Golden Girl' and see what it does to you." He pushed his floppy fringe out of his eyes. "I know my parents wish it was me lying on that slab and not her."

And with this passing shot, he left the station.

Humphrey whistled when he was gone. "Not much of an older brother." He thought of the photograph, taken only a couple of days' ago - of the younger sister's protective gesture towards her brother, and of the way the two leaned into each other. Had it all been an act – had Eddie resented his sister all along?

"He seemed to imply that his parents favoured Emilia," Camille commented.

"Maybe they did…although his mother seemed quite fond of him. Perhaps his father was fonder of her because she was his only daughter while Eddie was just his third son." Well, Humphrey knew how that felt – being constantly compared unfavourably with one's siblings. He frowned. "No photos of the older sons at their house. Weird that. Is he estranged from them? Do we know anything about them at all? Fidel…"

"Onto it, boss."

As the young officer worked his magic on his computer, Humphrey leaned right back in his chair, resting his head on the backrest and staring up at the ceiling.

"So…if Eddie didn't text Emilia, who did? And why did she tell her friends it was from her brother? It sounds as if she received a message from his phone and assumed it was him – but how was it done?"

"And who was the man who tried to resuscitate Emilia? And the woman who phoned the ambulance?" Dwayne said, unexpectedly.

They all turned to look at him. He shrugged at the sudden close attention.

"Well, he's spent the night at a party where it looks as if everyone got drunk or stoned or both. When he goes into the lounge, everyone's passed out on the sofa or the floor. Not surprising. So, if you're sleeping off whatever you took the previous night, why would you suddenly wake up and immediately be able to try resuscitating someone? I don't think I could. And if you were that competent – and I don't think anyone at that party was – you still wouldn't be clever enough to know that she'd already died. You'd keep trying. Only a doctor or paramedic would know for certain that it was 'hopeless'. And what about the girl? She's also on the scene very quickly with her phone."

"Hmm." Humphrey thought about it for a minute. "It's a good point - worth following up. Find out if the girl identified herself to the ambulance service and if they remember a man trying to help Emilia when they arrived."

As Dwayne went to ring the ambulance services, Fidel looked up from his computer. "No big mystery about the older sons – no changes of name or anything. Julien Lawrence is a city trader and his younger brother Joshua is a freelance investigative reporter. Julien is married with two children. Joshua isn't – I can't find anything about his private life anyway, and he wasn't cohabiting in the 2011 census. They both live in London."

"No scandals? Anything particularly newsworthy?"

"Well, Julien has never been accused of any specific wrong-doing, but he does work for Barclays Bank, and they have been criticised for their unethical behaviour. Joshua is more visible online on account of his job. He writes mainly about financial fraud – bit ironic given his brother's job. Looks like the brothers took very different directions in life."

As Dwayne put the phone down, he was about to speak when it rang again. He answered and listened for a moment before looking around at Humphrey.

"Boss? It's the Commissioner's office. Sir Selwyn wants to see you as soon as possible. He says it's urgent."