Carlos Cortez

We thanked Adam and his father for the helpful information that they had provided us. Their words seemingly bringing a great sense of pleasure to Mr Harvey's face, a great joy, that we now had a potential lead.

I thought our journey back would be another awkward, silent drive but, Paul's lips seemed to loosen, a key interest in this mysterious Antonin Girrad. Well, unknown to him but, to me, I knew about his features, his day job and his everyday lifestyle. He had trusted me with many of his secrets, obliviously placing his fate in my hands.

He trusted me as a friend and at that time I was, a person he could talk to, a person he could trust. I suppose in hindsight his flamboyant, engertic behaviour was a dead give away to his sexuality, something I quite clearly should have picked up on.

Antonin was a young, middle aged chap with Italian descent, his features toned, muscles brittle and fragile. He always pranced around, moving in a brisk, dance like style. His hair was neither tidy nor scruffy, instead a more spiked teenage look that didn't at all seem fitting with his age.

He worked as a train driver for the local railway, travelling along the tracks on a regular basis, taking commuters to work, town and vacation.

He was now a suspect, due to the prime recollections of Adam and his father, the memories that showed them that Mr Girrad and Mr Forsham were engaging in an intimate and personal relationship.

Furthermore, the analyst called to confirm the DNA found on Clive Forsham's bed was a difintive match for Mr Girrad. This only helping us to mount further evidence against Mr Girrad and his subtle, secret affair.

Paul Harvey

We are finally back home, approaching the Girrad household with infinite questions for the husband.

However, Mr Girrad was not the one to answer, no, it was his glamorous, model wife, who opened the door with such precision.

Her name was Mirabella, a young, pure beaut of a woman. Her legs were like a gazelles, her body slim and tanned. She had fantastical jewelry adorning her body. Her makeup was light and had a deep enchanting glow drawing us in. Now, looking at the woman before me, it seemed highly ironic that she settled down with someone so, ordinary.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I'm Sheriff Carlos Cortez and this is Paul Harvey, we're looking into Mr Forsham's death and we were wondering if we could have a word with your husband." Carlos states in a polite introductory manner.

Her face seemed to hold a look of both confusion and intrique.

Mirrabella Girrad

I had expected enquiries would be made into Mr Forsham's mysterious circumstance but, I had no idea, why they would specifically be asking for my husband.

Did they know something I did not? Was he somehow involved with Mr Forsham? Were just a few of the many questions I now had racing around inside my mind.

Now, as I come to think of it, ever since I took that job in Los Angeles, he started to become distant. At first, I had thought it was nothing, after all, these happenings began at the same time of his mother's passing.

Although, as time went on, I grew more and more suspicious, questioning my husband's commitment to our marriage.

Now, knowing that it was not in the officers place to divulge such secrets, unless my knowing could help in assisting there investigations further.

I reside from the door, taking the officers into the living room, where my husband loungily lays, engaged in one of his beloved train programmes.

Paul Harvey

I watch as Mrs Girrad attempts to snuggle into her husband's lap but, he pulls away, grimacing uncomfortably at his wife's affection.

I suggested we found somewhere more private, out of earshot from his wife.

"Whatever you have to say! You can say in front of my wife." an angry Antonin demands in a voice of pure unwavering confidence. This relaxed, chill tone suggested he felt adamant his secret was safe and secure.

Naturally, I could spill the beans to his wife but, I was here as a detective, attempting to establish the facts, not a therapist, fixing their romantic problems, their strained relationship now beheld.

Of course, this was no obstacle that I couldn't overcome. I simply had to say two words that carried with it Antoin's precious secret.

Hearing the mention of Salisbury Hotel, he becomes agitated and nervous. His palms begin to sweat, his cheeks begin to blush and his hands repeatedly twitching nervously.

Using his quick wit, he desperately grasps at an excuse for why his wife could not be present in his questions.

Now, with Antonin sat in his study, we were now finally able to press on with our questions.

"Mr Girrad, you work down at the station, is that right." Now, of course, I already knew this answer but, I was attempting to establish a good repoir with this man, after all a good repoir, can lead to a more lenient suspect.

"That's right, been there nearly 25 years now, good pay, good hours and plenty of benefits."

"Do, you enjoy working there?"

"Of course, love the job, always imagined I would be an engineer but, boss said I didn't have the experience so, that was the end of that dream."

Carlos provided me with a small grin, demonstrating he was proud that I was embracing a more charismatic, charming approach.

"So, you and Mrs Girrad have been together, for how long now?"

"Well, we met back in 2001 and have been together ever since."

"And was it a happy marriage?" I thought this seemed a reasonable question but, it seemed to rile Antonin, a sudden burst of anger exploding from his soul.

"Look! I know you didn't come here to have a friendly chat so, shall we get bloody on with it!"

I had planned to question him in a friendly, gentle manner, no pointing fingers or accusations hidden beneath my language but, Antonin's attitude had led me to change my current tactic.

"Well, if that's how you want it to go. We know about your affair, care to explain?" I say, changing from this friendly, charming man to someone with a great sense of stern authority. A change I am occasionally familiar with in my career.

"It happened 3-4 months back and at first it was just a chat and a small little cuddle but, it grew into something more. Now, don't get me wrong, I loved my wife but, sex with Clive was like a heavenly paradise. With my mother's passing and my wife always working, I needed something to stimulate me, something to keep me amused, while my heart was shrivelling away in pain and of course I knew I evoked those same feelings for Clive."

"Did you ever plan on telling your wife?"

"I would love to say yes but, truthfully I would have never known. Oh my god! I can't believe he's dead." he begins to cry, as the revelation of Clive's demise now finally truly sinks in.

Antonin was at a high level of emotional vulnerablity, I should leave him with his thoughts but, I still needed more to understand this act of infidelity.

"What drew you to Clive?"

"He understood me, he made me feel special and he would sit there for hours, just silently listening to my rants. I could share things with him that I never could with my wife."

I could question him where he was at the event but, his emotions seemed to be clouding up his judgement, his heart seemingly torn, by this close intimate relationship with my dear friend.

Naturally, I knew I would expose secrets of my friend but, still it caused a deep heartache, that my friend chose not to tell me of his lover. I could have laughed, offered my advice and perhaps even found someone more suitable.

The worst thing about all this is that I knew more secrets were yet to come, more lies and motives that would leave me questioning my dear old friend.

Oh, Clive what did you do?