The Soprano by M. A. Williams

Author:M. A. Williams [Williams, M.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: M. A. Williams

Damien had only intended to drop her off, but Catherine had convinced him to come in for coffee and avoid the rush-hour traffic, which they’d seen building as they drove out of the city. They’d spread documents out over the living room floor, as it was larger than the bedroom-come-office in the back room and there was more room for each of them to work without getting in each other’s way. Damien had his laptop streaming to the television and was scrutinising pictures which, although scanned at the highest possible resolution, were not overly clear. Catherine sat in the middle of the three-seater sofa in front of the television, with the file of witness statements in her lap and stacks of other files on either side of her. Damien clicked open the next file and studied it on the large screen.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning to Catherine. She looked up, tilting her head to one side as she considered it for a moment.

“A phone bill, I think. Can you scroll up, see whose it is?”

Damien duly scrolled to the top of the page, where Anton Nichol’s name sat, highlighted in yellow, above an address in Cathays. The date range indicated that it covered the period from December 8th, 2004, to January 7th, 2005. Each call made had been highlighted, with recurring numbers given the same colour and included in a key at the bottom of the page. The most frequent of these calls were to an unidentified mobile number. Damien copied the number carefully into his phone and called it as Catherine watched, nervously. After a few seconds, a high-pitched trio of notes and an automated voice recording told him that the number was no longer in service, and that he should check and try dialling again.

They were startled by a loud knock at the door. Damien scrambled to close and cover the files, folders and papers that dominated the room as Catherine went to answer it. It reminded Damien of his teenage years, sneaking around with Kevin’s mother and trying to look as innocent as possible when whichever set of parents whose house it was came home, and a wry smile crept across his lips as he tried to square everything away so that whoever was visiting wouldn’t get a look at what they had been up to. From the voices in the hallway, he could hear Catherine greeting the arrival with a mix or surprise and concern, but couldn’t tell who the visitor was. He quickly grabbed a throw from the back of a chair and covered the stack of files he had moved from the sofa to the floor next to it as DI Hales entered the room. It must have been raining heavily because his coat was soaked and his hood raised which, with the added complication of a large navy face mask covering the lower half of his face, meant that it took Damien a few seconds to recognise him. The detective lowered his hood

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