Nine Elms_The thrilling first book in a brand-new, electrifying crime series by Robert Bryndza

Author:Robert Bryndza [Bryndza, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780751572704
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2019-10-31T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

‘Are you sure about this? They’re not going to talk to us,’ said Tristan.

They were driving towards Crediton, a small town seven miles outside Exeter. Kate wanted to speak to the parents of Kaisha Smith, the girl found beside the river at Hunter’s Tor.

‘These should help,’ said Kate, handing Tristan an envelope. Tristan took it and pulled out two small stacks of business cards, each fastened with an elastic band. ‘A set with your name on it and a set for me. I went down to reprographics and got them printed. They owe me a favour. There’s twenty of each.’

‘I like how my name looks in fancy silver embossed writing,’ said Tristan, turning the card over. Kate had worried he might object to being ‘Assistant Private Investigator’ to her ‘Private Investigator’ and she was relieved to see all was good.

‘I think the best thing is that we’re honest. We say we’re investigating the disappearance of another young woman, which we are, and we think there could be some crossover,’ said Kate.

The house belonging to Tammy and Wayne Smith was at the top of a row of terraces that snaked up the side of a steep hill. Kate could only find a parking space at the bottom.

They arrived at the front door a little breathless after the steep climb, and Kate wanted a moment to compose herself, but the front door was pulled open and a thin woman came out carrying a black bag of rubbish.

‘Yes?’ she asked. ‘If you’re Jehovah’s Witnesses you can piss off. I’m not in the mood. The last copy of The Watchtower I got through my letterbox was put down in the cat litter tray.’ She walked past them and went to the black bin by the gate.

Kate explained who they were and they showed their business cards.

The woman looked them up and down, taking in Kate’s casual jeans and sweater with a long coat and Tristan’s bright red and blue jacket, jeans and green trainers.

‘You’re not press?’

‘No,’ said Kate.

‘Come in,’ said Tammy.

The house inside was cheaply furnished but cosy. The cluttered front room was filled with a sagging sofa, armchairs and a huge flat-screen television, which was showing an afternoon cooking programme where a bespectacled chef was carving a lattice into a leg of lamb with great enthusiasm.

A man who Kate recognised as Wayne from the news report sat in an armchair wearing a grubby dressing gown, staring listlessly at the TV. Tammy explained who they were and he looked up at them blearily. Kate instantly saw he was drunk.

‘This is Ruby, our other . . . our daughter,’ said Tammy. A thin, sad-looking girl who looked to be seven or eight years old sat next to the television brushing the hair of a pink My Little Pony. Tristan and Kate said hello and sat down on the sofa. Tammy took the other free armchair.

Kate noted that Wayne and Tammy were heavy smokers. They both lit up cigarettes and there was an overflowing ashtray on the coffee table.

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