Broken Little Dolls by Elena Winters

Author:Elena Winters [Winters, Elena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Police swarmed George's flat and the small hallway.

I sat on my sofa, unable to block the mental image of George sprawled in a pool of his own blood.

An ambulance crew had rushed George to the hospital and all the police would tell me is that he was still alive.

I’d brought Samson into my flat after he'd become aggressively protective over George's motionless body, allowing no-one but myself near his beloved owner.

Would George pull through? Would he remember the words his attacker had whispered to him as he lay bleeding on his own kitchen floor? Was his affair with a schoolgirl something that bothered George, haunted him? Is this why George dealt with very few people in his everyday life?

A policeman sat on my sofa, a notepad open as he jotted down my answers to his various questions.

Did I see or hear anything suspicious?

Had I seen any suspicious characters hanging around?

Did George have any enemies that I knew of?

I told them I saw nothing, heard nothing, knew nothing.

When asked what had made me check on George after I'd admitted that George's front door being open hadn't alarmed me, I told them about Samson screaming at my door.

The officer had looked at Samson then, who was sat on my windowsill staring down at the street, staring at the exact place he and I had watched George's body being loaded into an ambulance before being sped away.

"It's a mean bastard, that cat," the officer commented, and I agreed. The officer then thanked me and left my flat.

I’d overheard enough from the officers to learn that nothing had been stolen from George's flat and that valuables were left untouched, so robbery was not the motive.

I moved to my front door and watched the forensic team going in and out of George's flat, and I felt guilty.

Guilty for every time I'd tiptoed past the man's flat in order to avoid a conversation.

The Dollman’s words echoed in my mind; paedophile, inappropriate relationship with a schoolgirl, sacked and disgraced because of it.

I thought of the times Becky had complained about George and the way he looked at her. "He looks at me like he's seen me naked, but like, I didn't know he was there when I was naked. He's creepy."

I’d put it down to Becky's ego. She was an attractive young woman with a fine body. She wasn't full of herself, not as bad as some women, but she appreciated male attention as much as the next woman. I thought maybe she had misinterpreted George's gaze of sheer nosiness for one of lust and desire.

Thoughts of Becky made my throat tighten and I wondered how I could have the energy left to give a damn about her right now.

There was a nutcase on the loose who'd killed three people and injured a third in just four.

The link between two of the cases, was me.

"Danny."

Startled, I jerked my head right, then an overwhelming dread swamped me.

Detectives Jackson and Dobson were standing in the hallway, staring at me.

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