The Murder Of Reinhart Manor - McCarthy series Book 1 - COMPLETE

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Reinhart Manor was a large, quaint home. It looked Georgian, with perfectly neat flowerbeds and hedges. Waiting outside were Jacob's mother and father.

"Damon Hunt, pleased to meet you," he said, offering a hand.

"Maria, pleasure," the pretty woman added. The couple looked well-groomed, almost too young to be Jacob's parents.

"Sorry for your loss," Brigitte sympathised.

"It's not your fault," Damon acknowledged. "It is odd not having her around."

After a brief conversation, Brigitte was let inside and introduced to Damon's parents, Doris and David, and his aunt and uncle, Agnes and Philip who all sat in the dining room, with Coralina resting upstairs.

The room in which Caitlin was murdered was the living room.

"The Coroner only found the knife wound, no others," Maria explained, looking like she was about to cry. This bought Brigitte's attention to the bullet holes in the wall, which studied for a moment.

"She wouldn't have others, these are entry holes." The response from the others was minimal. She rephrased.

"Caitlin shot, not the murderer."

"Then where is the gun?" Jacob inquired.

Brigitte bit her lip.

"Surely they'd take it with them," Damon suggested.

"I'm not convinced. It's likely a relative, your security is too good to have had an intruder able to get in. I guess you've accepted that already, Mr Hunt?" Damon squirmed at the thought as Brigitte glared at him.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Were any windows or doors open at the scene?"

"The window was open a tad, that's all," Maria replied. Brigitte wandered over to the window and opened it; a bush sat below it. She jumped out over the bush and fumbled around.

"Gotcha," Brigitte whispered. She climbed back inside effortlessly, wielding her prize. The fire burning in the fireplace gave the knife a fierce glow. It was covered in powder which formed a fingerprint.

"Perfect! A fingerprint will lead us straight to them!" Jacob exclaimed.

"No," Brigitte said. Damon furrowed his eyebrows, Jacob shifting his weight anticipating an answer. "It's too obvious."

"It fits," Damon countered. "Philip baked that night. It must be flour."

"He wouldn't have been that dim-witted. Though, this is as close as we've got to a possibility." She put the knife on the table, being careful not to disturb the dried blood.

"May I search Philip's room?" Brigitte asked.

"Anywhere you wish," Maria answered. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back as she smiled. "Damon and I are going into town, so we will see you when we return." She linked arms with Damon. He bid Jacob and Brigitte farewell before departing.

***************

"Who do you suspect?" Brigitte asked Jacob as climbed the stairs. They creaked with every step.

"I don't want to suspect anyone. You?"

"I can't be sure," she replied, opening Philip's door. The only furniture was a bed, bedside tables either side of it and a cabinet. A pretty 'bog-standard' room to Brigitte, considering the posh house. She searched the bedside tables – nothing, but she found what she wanted in the cabinet.

"Does he keep pistols?" Brigitte asked. Jacob shook his head. Something caught her eye from the window: a security camera. She looked up to the German bayonet hoisted up on the wall and saw the bed pillows in the reflection.

"I've got a plan," she stated. "Can we see the footage from that camera?"

"Sure, on my laptop."

"GO GET IT! QUICK!" She urged.

"OK! OK!" he exclaimed. It took him a moment to return with his fancy laptop. He opened it and brought up the files.

"What are you doing?" Jacob asked, studying Brigitte squinting at the screen. He had no clue how this was going to help.

"We can see whether he got up. What time did it happen, roughly?"

"1:30 -ish, I reckon." He answered. She played it in fast motion just before that point, and, as planned, she could see David and Agnes' reflection on the Bayonet. The time went past 1:30, then at 1:40 David appeared to alarm them of the incident.

Jacob's face lit up like a child faced with gallons of sweets.

"This is so cool! Detective work is awesome!"
She was pleased that he had cheered up a little, smiling to herself.
"First suspect off the table," Brigitte marvelled. "Now, I want to search your father office. Thoroughly."