Tell No Tales by J. M. Dalgliesh

Author:J. M. Dalgliesh [Dalgliesh, J. M.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Hamilton Press
Published: 2020-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

SHE PRESSED the doorbell once more, only this time held it in place for long enough to draw an inquisitive look from Eric, standing alongside her. She leaned closer, trying to see through the wire reinforced pane of glass set in the front door but it was no use. The glass was obscured and even if she could see through it, the interior was shrouded in darkness.

"Looks like no one's home," Eric said, adopting a glum expression.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Turning back to the door, she hammered the flat of her fist on the door as if she had the need to wake the dead. It was the middle of the afternoon and it had taken them hours to find the address. The post code held on file for the flat turned out to be wrong, sending them on a detour into a part of south London that could have been a rabbit warren of sorts. Had it not been for the help of some locals, they would likely never have found this place. They were on the third of four floors of a small block of flats. They were probably built in the mid to late fifties, constructed from brick with open walkways running the length of the building from a communal stairwell in the middle. So far. Their journey into London had been a total washout. Cassie had no intention of going back to Norfolk empty handed. She'd had to lobby hard for two days, feeling that one day with the associated travel constrained their ability to achieve a result. Tom Janssen agreed, in the end, but to deliver nothing tangible for the time of two detectives wouldn't look good this early in her new role.

"What should we do?"

She didn't look at Eric, remaining fixed on the barrier before her. He was a nice lad, Eric, and she thought she would end up liking him but right now, he was bugging her. Did he always need someone to take the lead or was he capable of independent thought?

"How about we smash the door down."

"We can't!"

Cassie looked at him, her brow furrowing to accompany the look of disdain. "No, Eric. Of course we can't. I was taking the piss."

"Oh, right. Got yer," Eric said. "So… what are we going to do?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a door opened further along the corridor. A face peered out, eyeing them warily. Cassie took a step back, looking over and smiling warmly as she took out her ID.

"Nothing to worry about, love," she said. "Police."

The woman emerged a little further from inside her flat, still with one hand on the door frame as if it was both steadying and comforting. Cassie took her measure. She was black, elderly, easily into her eighties and appeared frail. Crossing the short distance between them, she indicated the flat over her shoulder with her thumb.

"My name's Cassie."

"Evelyn," the woman said.

"I don't suppose you know who lives next door, do you?"

The woman scowled.

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