Christmas Can Be Murder: A DCI Morton Novella by Sean Campbell

Author:Sean Campbell [Campbell, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Murder, Murder Mystery, Christmas, killer, kidnap, blackmail, Extortion, Robbery
Publisher: Sean Campbell
Published: 2019-12-10T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8: The Denizens of Kilburn

This wasn’t a part of London that Rafferty was overly familiar with. Despite its proximity to wealthy Hampstead to the east and the even wealthier Kensington to the south, Kilburn felt like an enclave of acute poverty. The houses were run down, the cars older than Rafferty, and the peeling paintwork on the frontage of Leon’s building was a portent of the interior.

There were, unsurprisingly, no CCTV cameras. With most of Kilburn owning nothing worth stealing, Rafferty knew that such a camera would be a magnet for thieves looking for rich pickings.

The building itself wasn’t particularly large. It was sandwiched between two other developments almost like an afterthought. Here nobody had taken the time to salt the icy pavement and so Rafferty followed a narrow path from the road where the ice had melted due to foot traffic.

Judging from the number of buzzers by the communal front door, Leon’s building was divided up into six units. She drew Leon’s key from her pocket and let herself in. It was as manky inside as she expected. In the cold light of day, she could see just how dusty and worn the floorboards were. She made her way up to Leon’s top-floor flat, taking note of which neighbours had lights on so she could return to them afterwards.

As she approached the front door, Rafferty noticed how old it was. Years of scratches had layered upon each other to create an intricate pattern in the dark green paintwork. The gouges were particularly bad around the keyhole as if someone had tried to let themselves in while the hallway light was off.

The keys jangled as she tried to work out which key was for Leon’s front door. Leon had three keys on his keyring, none of which were labelled. She noted that, unlike his next-door-neighbour, Leon hadn’t installed a peephole.

Inside she felt in the dark for a light switch. An ancient bulb flickered to life to reveal a minuscule flat. The bedroom door to her left was wide open, the bed within taking up nearly the entire room. Ahead of her was a small kitchen-cum-living room with dormer windows on which she could see a thin film of condensation. There was black mould around the edges of the frames that was thick enough that Rafferty could see it from the hallway.

It was as Morton had described. Nothing appeared to be broken but the place was such a mess that Rafferty wasn’t confident she’d be able to tell if something was. Once she’d had a quick look around the living room for anything that Morton might have missed during his brief visit, she made her way into the bedroom and laid on the bed in accordance with the instructions that Aoife had texted. It was a weird request but one Rafferty didn’t mind complying with.

The bed was, as Aoife had expected, knackered. It sagged badly in the middle. She texted back to confirm as much and then, with a great struggle, hauled herself back to her feet while being mindful of the sloping ceiling.

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