A Routine Infidelity

Contents About the Book Title Page Dedication Epigraph Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Acknowledgements About the Author Copyright Advertisement ABOUT THE BOOK A delightfully sharp and clever murder mystery, perfect for fans of Richard Osman’s The Thursday Murder Club Private investigator Edwina ‘Ted’ Bristol deals in the cheating spouses and missing chihuahuas of Melbourne, but yearns for the heart-stopping excitement of real crime. When Ted discovers her sister, Bob, has fallen prey to an internet catfishing scam, she sets out with her beloved miniature schnauzer and shrewd sidekick, Miss Marple, to catch the swindler. Meanwhile, when conducting routine surveillance on a couple suspected of having an affair, she uncovers a plot to embezzle millions. As Bob’s case takes a series of bizarre twists and turns and the embezzlement investigation escalates into murder, Ted finds her own life in peril. Will she crack her first criminal case before it’s too late? iii v For Tori. I’m so proud of you. vi We dance round in a ring and suppose But the secret sits in the middle and knows. Robert Frost CONTENTS Title Page Dedication Epigraph Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Acknowledgements About the Author Copyright 1 PROLOGUE Bridget Then So much for binning Froggy yesterday in a failed attempt to make him ‘disappear’. Here he was clutched in Teddy’s little mitt again, showing every second of the four years he’d been sucked and dropped and dragged through the dirt. Filthy, disembowelled Froggy, the victor. Bridget knew she should have hung tough, but poor Teddy had been so bereft, it had brought her undone. And what’s a few million germs, really? Kids had survived a lot worse. So she’d caved and miraculously ‘found’ Froggy, and she’d put him through the washing machine again. And now here he was, staring up at her triumphantly with his single plastic eye, as the sun beat down on them at Bushrangers Bay. Teddy was stomping around in her yellow bathers, a Gulliver to the Lilliputian sea life in the rock pools. Splash! Splash! No quietly gathering pretty seashells and arranging them into neat little piles for Bridget’s youngest. She watched Teddy tramp around like a ragamuffin, and her heart turned to mush like it always did. Bloody kid.2 3 CHAPTER ONE Ted Now As Ted laid the photos out on her desk, she heard a scrappy bark assert itself at Wags Away Canine Day Care. Ha! Ted felt a familiar rush of pride, but she kept her face immobile. Across the desk, Chantal was shifting in her chair. She looked worried sick, and Ted couldn’t help feeling sympathy. She focused and opened her report. ‘It’s good news. Andrew’s not cheating on you.’ ‘He’s not?’ ‘No.’ Chantal’s face lit up with relief, and Ted felt glad to be bearing good tidings for once. Overwhelmingly, the anxious spouses who employed her surveillance services had their worst fears confirmed. How many times had she sat here in her office at Edwina Bristol Investigations – or EBI, as she thought of it – and watched a client’s face crumble as they sifted through evidence they’d desperately sought but simultaneously dreaded? Women who wanted to torture themselves with too many details, guys who couldn’t get out the door fast enough. You could never predict people’s reactions. Ted’s mind flew back to last week and a bloke whose weathered face was wet with tears 4he refused to acknowledge, even as she edged a box of tissues across the table at him. It was incontrovertible – infidelity sucked. Chantal was one of the lucky ones. Ted watched her client pore over the surveillance pics of her husband, Andrew, visiting a Port Melbourne house for the past five Thursday nights. A woman with sleek dark hair appeared like clockwork and gave Andrew a visitor’s parking permit, but Ted had been forced to take her chances, and last week she’d scored a parking ticket – ninety bucks – an occupational hazard she couldn’t charge to Chantal. ‘The woman’s name is Eiko Asaka,’ she told Chantal. ‘She’s a cooking teacher.’ ‘A cooking teacher?’ ‘Yeah. At first, I wasn’t sure if that was relevant, but then I posed as a student and found out Andrew’s been having lessons.’ ‘Oh, thank God. You’ve made my day. But why’s he been doing that in secret?’ ‘To surprise you. He told Eiko you love Japanese food.’ ‘I do!’ Ted was pretty partial to Japanese herself, with one notable exception. She remembered once being offered sea urchin – or ‘uni’ as the Japanese call it – at a tiny restaurant tucked behind the Tsukiji Fish Market in Tokyo, on a day so hot she thought her hair might fry. She didn’t know it was served live, and feeling the poor urchin wriggle around in her mouth had made her want to gag … but when in Rome, right? She wondered why Andrew Considine thought cooking lessons warranted a surprise? Maybe he was one of those dudes who never graced the kitchen, and just stirring up a