Portraits of the Dead by John Nicholl

Author:John Nicholl [Nicholl, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Psychological
ISBN: 9781912604548
Google: gbpMuQEACAAJ
Publisher: Bloodhound Books
Published: 2018-07-08T23:00:00+00:00

The old lady opened the front door on the first knock, and tapped her watch in silent admonishment.

Rankin had expected a wait and was taken aback by her sudden and immediate appearance. ‘Sorry I’m late, Mrs Goddard. I was having a quick look at the Mercedes. I hope that’s okay with you.’

She remained facing him as she had on his previous visit, but this time she didn’t invite him in. ‘Oh, you were, were you, young man? And you didn’t think of asking permission first? My husband wouldn’t like it. He wouldn’t like it at all.’

What on earth could he say to that? The man was dead. He was beginning to regret visiting. ‘Do you remember that I said I was calling here this morning to take a statement from you, Mrs Goddard?’

The old lady lifted her stick in the air and shook it above her head. ‘Of course I remember. Don’t start that nonsense again! Why do you think I was waiting for you in the hallway?’

Would he never learn? Time for yet another apology. ‘I haven’t made a very good impression so far, have I?’

She smiled as her mood softened. ‘Not really, dear, why don’t you come in and start again? I think that’s best. I can forgive most things, what with everything I’ve experienced over the years. People come with their flaws and idiosyncrasies. It’s a reality we all have to accept if we’re going to get along. We’re all God’s creatures.’

Rankin followed her to the top of the stairs for a second time and noted that she appeared to be moving a little easier than on his previous visit. ‘You seem a lot stronger today, Mrs Goddard, if you don’t mind me saying.’

She turned her head towards him and smiled. ‘I get good days and bad days, and today’s one of the good ones.’

‘Glad to hear it. Shall I take a seat in the lounge?’

‘Fetch the tray from the kitchen, dear. I’ve baked some rather nice cupcakes especially for you. My treat. They’re all waiting on the worktop next to the kettle. You know where it is by now.’

How could he say no to that? What a thoughtful lady! ‘Tea or coffee?’

She opened the lounge door, lowered herself into her favourite armchair and called out loudly, clearly expressing each word, ‘Why don’t you make a nice pot of tea for us both, dear? There’s a teapot and a strainer in the cupboard to the right of the cooker. I can’t abide those awful modern teabags. The tea just doesn’t taste the same. Why is everyone in such a hurry these days?’

Rankin dropped a tablespoonful of loose and aromatic Indian tealeaves into the pot and added boiling water from the kettle. ‘Nearly done!’

‘Now don’t you go rushing things, dear. Treat the tea with the respect it deserves. It’ll taste all the better for it.’

The DS joined the old lady in the lounge, placed the tray of refreshments on the coffee table as instructed and took a neatly folded West Wales Police statement form from his pocket, having decided to abandon the briefcase.

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