The Dead's Day: A DI James Fitzgerald Novel by JJ Moriarty

Author:JJ Moriarty [Moriarty, JJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JJ MORIARTY
Published: 2023-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

James circled the roads twice to be sure he knew where he was going. They were narrow, with barely enough space for a car to pass. The rain was heavy, and it didn’t make for comfortable driving.

Once he was sure he knew where he was going, James chose a small overgrown lane leading to an abandoned cottage. He reversed into it and turned off the engine. The car was hidden from the road by an overgrown bramble. James got out and locked the car after him, then walked out to the main road.

James was going to a small group of houses. They were about a mile up the road from where he’d parked. No cars passed as James walked along the road.

The small collection of houses was kept behind a high steel railing, the top of which was covered by barbed wire. Alongside seven or eight houses, there were two caravans standing beside them. The entrance to the small housing estate was open.

When James walked past the entrance, a lurcher began barking at James. There was no one else around except for a young boy using an adult’s bicycle. The kid cycled over to the dog.

“Will you whisht,” the kid said.

The lurcher fell silent.

The kid looked up at James, and his eyes narrowed.

“I’m looking for Marie Connors,” James said. “Could you tell me which one of the houses she lives in?”

“What do you want her for?” the kid said.

“Just to talk,” James said.

“To talk,” the kid said, “aye.”

“Would you tell me?” James said.

“She’s not living in a house,” the kid said. “She’s staying in that caravan.”

The kid pointed to two caravans that were slightly further away from the group of houses.

“The one on the left or the one on the right?” James said.

“The one on the left,” the kid said. “Are you here to bring trouble?”

“No trouble,” James said. “She’ll want to talk to me.”

“How did you get here?” the kid said. “Do you live locally?”

“I parked up the road,” James said.

The kid nodded.

“What’s your surname?” the kid said.

“Fitzgerald,” James said.

“Don’t know any Fitzgeralds,” the kid said.

“I’ll go talk to her now,” James said.

“See you, mister,” the kid said.

He began to pedal again, the bike three sizes too big for him.

James walked over to the caravan the kid had pointed to. There were noises of people coming from inside.

James knocked on the door to the caravan. It was opened by a woman in her thirties.

“Marie Connors?” James said.

“Who’s asking?” Marie said.

James took out his ID, although he held it at chest level.

“Marie, you might have been the witness to a crime,” James said. “I need you to give a statement.”

“I didn’t witness any crimes,” Marie said.

“I just need to ask you a few questions,” James said. “To take a statement from you.”

There was the noise of a kid from inside.

“Let’s not do it here,” Marie said. “Step outside.”

James stepped away from the door of the caravan. Marie stepped outside and then shut the door after her. Marie walked a short bit away from the caravan, and James followed her.

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