White Lies by Rachel Green Page A

woman at the estate agents said he was really well adjusted and happy. She couldn’t understand why he’d done it.”
    “Again, all too common in suicides. It’s usually the people who know them best who never had any inkling.”
    “What about the champagne in the fridge and the half-decorated house. He was obviously looking forward to his brother coming home.”
    “Not something we can take into account either. You just don’t know with some people.” Peters sighed again. “Anything else? Because to be honest, you’re not convincing me.”
    “There was a notebook, but we don’t know what it means. Hang on.” Meinwen fished it out of her bag. “Lots of entries of money coming in. In hundreds and multiples of a hundred, more often than not then taken out again when the amount his a thousand, or five hundred in some cases.”
    “Money coming in and out of where? Where did it go?” Where does it come from?”
    “That’s the problem really. I don’t know.”
    “Then there’s nothing I can do to tie it into probable cause. Look, Meinwen, I’m sorry, but this is how it goes. I can’t reopen a suicide because the family thinks it was unlikely their loved one topped themselves, can I? Tell you what, I’ll keep the file on my desk and if you come across anything else let me know. The source of that money might swing the balance if you can trace it. An estate agent doesn’t come into cash like that in a hurry. Maybe he was getting backhanders from somewhere.”
    “Okay. Thank you, Sergeant. The more I find out about this John Fenstone the less I know. He’s a real mystery man. Perhaps after I’ve talked to his solicitor.”
    “Good luck with that. They stonewalled us when we tried to get information about him. Client-solicitor privilege.”
    “I’ve got his brother, though. As the heir to the estate they can’t not divulge everything.”
    “Let’s hope so. Was there anything else at all?”
    “Not unless you want to invite me for dinner.”
    “Ah. I’d love to, but the wife frowns on extramarital affairs, particularly when they’re not hers.”
    Meinwen laughed. “I don’t blame her. Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
    “Right. Look after yourself, particularly if you come across anything shady.”
    Meinwen disconnected, putting the phone away then leafing through the notebook again. What was most worrying was round numbers. Exactly a hundred pounds, exactly three hundred. What legal business dealt in exact amounts?
    She put the book away and hauled herself upright, gathering the tea things and carrying the tray back to the kitchen where Jimmy was browsing the contents of the laptop. “You got into it then?”
    “Yeah. It wasn’t too hard.” Jimmy smile brightened the whole room. “I wondered what I’d use for a password if I was John. It took me four tries to guess.”
    “What was it?” Meinwen put the tray on the work surface next to the sink and turned, leaning against the cupboard with her hip thrust out and forward.
    “Elizabeth. That was our mam’s name. Something that would never change throughout his life.”
    “That’s sweet. He must have really loved her.”
    “We both did.” Jimmy frowned. “I’ve found his Facespace and Tweeter feeds. He didn’t have that many friends.” He pulled up the relevant pages. “Er...they seem to be a little rude.”
    Meinwen reached over and used the touchpad to scan John friends list. She flicked through the messages and status updates, too. “He certainly knew some fit young men, didn’t he?”
    “I should say so. “ Jimmy tapped a finger on a piece of paper he’d set out next to him. “He had an account on ‘leatherfap dot com’ too but I can’t work out his password on that. The same with his online bank pages. I did get into his email but there’s nothing there. Some information about this place but that’s about all.”
    “What about his email provider? They often keep a copy of the mail on their system so you can