Friday

Brendan looked at his clock. Damn, he was running late again. Was all that white stuff on the jacket? He had no idea where his mum had put the lint roller and he didn’t have time to look for it. Maybe he wouldn’t wear the jacket. Don’t be ridiculous, this wasn’t some smart casual lunch. He was lucky he found a tie untainted with animal figures or cartoon characters. The funeral was starting in less than an hour. He still had to drive through rush hour traffic and find a parking space. This whole thing seemed like a dream. The police still hadn’t found a suspect. There were no fingerprints on the knife and the security camera had been switched off. An inside job? Surely not. Who would have wanted to harm sweet lovely Suzie? Yet there she was now, lying in a hard wooden box, waiting to be lowered into the ground.