The Silent Shore: A DI Zennor Cornish Crime Mystery (The DI Zennor Cornish Crime Mysteries Book 1) by Solomon Carter

Author:Solomon Carter [Carter, Solomon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Great Leap
Published: 2024-10-20T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

At eleven pm, Zennor and Hogarth sat in the quiet street at the edge of a new residential area. The Poughill Estate was a new build of sharp white render set on buildings whose lower sections were clad with brown Cornish stone. It was a story of the old and the new with a Cornish accent thrown in. Half-laid foundations sat at the edge and back of the street with a few items of hired giant plant parked here and there, but the bulk of the main road section had been completed. Lit windows, plush curtains, and smart cars on driveways indicated that the biggest of the detached properties were full of life. Hogarth peered at the dark hills beyond the houses. DC Boswell had said that the ocean was just beyond those hills, but to Hogarth, the sea seemed hidden from view. Hadn’t the developers promised ocean views? Occasionally he could hear it, but that was all.

As the evening went on, the music and chatter coming from a few of the houses eclipsed the sound of the sea. Zennor sipped coffee from her small flask before she pinched off the corner of a flapjack and stuffed it in her mouth. A few hours ago, she had said goodnight to Lily by phone, but she still missed her. There was no substitute for being at home with her daughter tucked safely in bed upstairs. She worried about what absentee parenting might do to her. But that was another worry she couldn’t do anything about, and Zennor had already taken her fill of those.

“The street’s getting livelier,” said Zennor, pointing to a few of the houses.

“Isn’t it just?” said Hogarth, dragging a hand down his chin in the passenger seat. “You’d think most of this lot would want to go to bed. Especially if they’ve got jobs to hold down.”

Zennor thought of Sam Cartwright’s words about everyone having a vice. “True, but there are plenty of functioning addicts in this world,” she said quietly.

Hogarth didn’t reply. Instead, he picked at a loose fibre on his trousers as he thought about the peaty taste of his favourite whisky. Zennor turned quiet too. She picked up the small binoculars from the dashboard and peered into the kitchen/diner window at the front of the house they had rented for the operation. Through it, she could see Boswell and Cartwright in dressed-down mode, sitting around the kitchen breakfast bar close by the window like a newly moved-in couple joking over a bottle of wine. Their position and behaviour were part of their pre-planned act; the blinds had been left open to draw the eye, and the white wine bottle on the black marble counter signalled their laid-back, good-time attitude. With Sam’s Audi and Boswell’s Ford Focus parked on the driveway, they looked like a career couple who were still young enough to want plenty of fun. From the smiles on their faces, she thought they were playing the part pretty well. Boswell seemed to be relishing her role and looked prettier dressed down in a vest and tracksuit trousers.

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