For Reasons Unknown by Michael Wood

especially officers in plain clothes. The conversation between the three of them seemed very tense. She was itching to know what they were saying but didn’t dare risk getting closer in case she was noticed. Maun waited until they had disappeared around the corner before following.

Chapter 11
    The journey from Whirlow to Jonathan’s apartment was a short car drive away, conducted in silence. When they arrived at the building Matilda was shocked to find he had moved so close to the house where his parents had been brutally murdered. He’d obviously not laid his demons to rest even after twenty years. Would she still be living in anguish at the loss of her husband two decades from now?
    Jonathan pointed out the living room to his guests then hurried into the kitchen to prepare coffee for them all.
    ‘He doesn’t have a TV,’ Rory said straightaway in hushed tones.
    ‘Trust you to notice that,’ she replied, and she smiled.
    ‘Look at all these books.’
    Both Matilda and Rory were agog at the collection. They were even more surprised by the neatness of the display.
    ‘Do you think he’s read them all?’
    ‘I doubt they’re there for ornamental purposes.’
    ‘I’ve never seen so many outside of a branch of Waterstones.’
    ‘Come off it Rory, when was the last time you stepped foot into a bookshop?’
    A blank expression swept across his smooth face as he tried to think. Matilda thought she detected the smell of burning as the cogs turned in his pretty little head.
    ‘I bought the Guinness Book of Records last Christmas.’
    ‘Hardly a Booker winner.’
    ‘A what?’
    Jonathan entered carrying a tray with three mismatched cups and a cafetière full of black coffee. He made for the middle of the room then turned away, setting the tray down on a small table in the corner. He looked down at the carpet and unconsciously put a hand to his neck. Matilda followed his gaze and noticed four indentations where a piece of furniture used to stand; probably an old coffee table.
    ‘We were just admiring your collection.’ Matilda pointed to the bookcases as if they needed pointing out. They dominated the whole room.
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘Have you read them all?’ Rory asked, still bewildered by the display.
    ‘Of course,’ Jonathan replied harshly.
    ‘Where’s your TV?’
    ‘I don’t have one.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘There’s nothing of interest I want to watch. I believe that if you’re not a fan of soap operas or reality shows you’re not catered for.’
    ‘I have to agree with you there,’ Matilda said. ‘I pay my TV licence and a subscription to Sky but I certainly don’t get my money’s worth.’
    ‘I expect being a detective takes up a lot of your time too.’
    ‘You tell me,’ Matilda said. She nodded towards the crime fiction collection with a smile.
    ‘Would you like to take a seat?’ Jonathan smiled back at Matilda.
    Matilda and Rory both unbuttoned their coats as they sat on the leather sofa. Jonathan remained ready to leave the house; coat buttoned, scarf wrapped around his neck.
    With slightly shaking hands, he poured them both a cup of coffee. He told them to help themselves to milk and sugar while he drank his black. Rory looked disappointed at the small plate with half a dozen boring digestive biscuits; he’d been hoping for something chocolatey, a Hobnob or a Bourbon. Jonathan sat on a matching armchair next to a small wooden table that held about twenty paperback novels.
    ‘Why aren’t those on the shelves?’ Rory asked.
    ‘Because I haven’t read them yet.’
    ‘Where do you work?’ Matilda asked, taking a lingering sniff of the coffee.
    ‘Waterstones in Orchard Square.’
    ‘Really?’ Rory laughed.
    ‘Yes,’ Jonathan frowned.
    ‘Would you mind if I recorded this conversation?’ Matilda asked. She took a digital recorder from her pocket. Jonathan shook his head, so she pressed a couple of buttons then set it down on the small table between the two of them. ‘I’d