Slow Motion Ghosts by Jeff Noon

Author:Jeff Noon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Doubleday
Published: 2019-01-24T00:00:00+00:00

Living in the Dark

Hobbes and Palmer walked up to the open front door of Fair Harbour. A constable moved aside to let them enter. In the crowded living room, Hobbes demanded, ‘Who’s in charge here?’ Several heads turned at his voice, but no one answered.

Palmer said, ‘I think we’re still waiting for DI Bailey.’

‘Has the doctor had his go?’

This time a plain-clothes officer spoke up. ‘Yes, sir. He’s been and gone.’

‘Good.’

He looked round. An older woman, sitting on the settee, made a whimpering sound. She was trembling badly and her head was lowered into her chest, hiding her face.

‘And this is?’

‘The owner of the house, sir.’

Hobbes scowled. ‘OK, everybody out. Now! Come on. Give me some room, for Christ’s sake.’ His command had sufficient intensity to force them all to move. ‘Palmer, could you clear the crime scene for me?’

‘Clear it?’

‘Everyone out of there. Everyone!’

She seemed confused, hesitating before making her way out of the room. Hobbes bent down to speak to the woman on the settee.

‘Can I have your name, please?’

She peered up at him. ‘Mrs Saunders. Or … Vera. Whichever you prefer.’

‘Vera. I’m Detective Inspector Hobbes.’

She nodded. Smiled briefly.

‘Now then …’

Hobbes took a step back. He was suddenly at a loss. On the way over here he’d tried to keep his head free of all emotions, to empty it completely, so that the details of what he saw – of the body and its situation – everything would be clean in his mind. No distractions, no personal feelings.

Keep the heart at bay, Henry. Think like a razor.

DI Collingworth again. Always that insistent voice in his head. But how could he use the razor this time? He’d messed up. He’d messed up and a woman had died, someone he knew was in danger.

Hobbes looked around, to gather himself. The room was a fairy grotto of pastel shades, with a lawn of cream-coloured shagpile carpet underfoot. He imagined Mrs Saunders vacuumed daily. And dusted each of the many ornaments and vases at least once a week. His own mother did the same.

DC Palmer came back into the room. ‘All sorted, sir.’

He nodded his thanks and turned back to the owner of the house.

‘Mrs Saunders, I know this is difficult for you, but could you tell me what happened this morning?’

‘Yes. I can try.’

‘I believe Simone Paige came to see you?’

‘Yes, it was around ten o’clock, after I’d finished putting the laundry on, when the doorbell rang. I get scared around this time of year, because of all the Lucas Bell admirers. Sometimes they pester me. But I peeked through the window and I saw that it was a woman – well, not a teenager, I mean. So I felt safe enough.’

‘Do you live alone?’

‘No. I have my husband, Trevor. But he’s out at the moment, playing golf.’ Her brows tightened.

Hobbes was drawn to a photograph lying on the coffee table, a snapshot of Simone Paige as a younger woman. What was it doing here?

‘So you answered the door?’

‘I did. And Miss Paige was standing there.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.