A Striking Similarity by Kevin Hopkins

Author:Kevin Hopkins [Kevin Hopkins]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kevin Hopkins
Published: 2020-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

‘So, all three could be related then?’ Penner said. ‘Well, at least that’s something to go on.’

‘Sorry I’m late.’ Grant hustled towards them out of the darkness. ‘I brought you a coffee,’ he said, holding out a take-out cup to Penner.

‘She already has one, but I could go for it,’ Millar said. Before he could even reach out a hand, Penner had slugged back the last bit of her first coffee, handed Grant the empty cup and taken the full one.

‘I really don’t know how you drink coffee so fast,’ Millar said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

‘One of my many talents,’ said Penner. ‘So, didn’t you get the call earlier?’ she asked, turning back to Grant.

‘I must have been in the shower when the call came in, and I turn my cell phone off at night,’ Grant explained. ‘I noticed the light flashing on my home line, and when I turned on my cell I had a bunch of messages from dispatch. I really wasn’t expecting a call tonight.’

‘From now on, if you’re working for me, you are on call 24/7,’ Penner said sternly. ‘Keep your cell on at all times. You never know when you’re going to get a call, got it?’

‘He’s working for you now?’ Millar couldn’t hide his surprise.

‘Captain thought we could use some help and everyone else is busy with other cases,’ Penner said.

‘Well, he’s your responsibility then, not mine,’ said Millar. Grant could feel the tension.

‘No problem,’ Penner said. She looked at Grant, who had wandered towards the body under the streetlight. ‘What in the—what are you wearing?’

‘Oh, this,’ Grant said, embarrassed. He looked down at himself. ‘It’s the only suit I have. My mom got it for me when I went to my older brother’s wedding. I think I was like 17 or something.’ The suit was a light baby blue colour that seemed to glow under the light. And it was about two sizes too small. Trying to tug the sleeves down, he said, ‘I’ll see about getting a better fitting one tomorrow.’

‘No, it’s a good look. Just need a ruffled shirt and it would be a complete ensemble,’ Millar said. Grant thought it was best not to react.

‘Detective Grant!’ A voice called out.

‘Detective?’ Millar asked incredulously as a Constable walked over to them.

‘It’s just a joke,” Grant said, turning to see Constable Curry walking toward them from the sidewalk. ‘I told you, I’m not a detective. What’s up?’

‘Well, sir,’ Constable Curry started, sarcastically, ‘I have a possible witness over here.’ Penner and Millar both turned to him, with interest. ‘Older guy, a Mr. Poole. Said he saw someone earlier carrying something, or maybe someone, over his shoulder about a block from here.’

‘Where is he?’ Penner jumped in to ask before Grant had a chance.

‘Just over here, ma-am,’ said Constable Curry shining his flashlight on the ground and leading them over to Mr. Poole.

* * *

Probably in his early sixties, Mr. Poole was a short man with grey hair and a long grey beard.

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