The Killer’s Christmas List: The gripping new festive detective crime thriller novel with a chilling twist, from winter 2023 by Chris Frost

Author:Chris Frost [Frost, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008616298
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2023-11-23T00:00:00+00:00

25

FRANK WOODS WAS LEANING against the wall of the tiny interview room.

Tom and Lauren had purposely chosen the most drab, inhospitable room they had on offer, but Frank looked like he would be comfortable sitting in a muddy trench, so it was probably not working on the psychological level they were hoping for.

He had a black woolly hat pulled low, covering his bald head. Despite the temperature almost dropping into the negatives, he was wearing a polo shirt with his builder’s business logo sewn onto a breast pocket. Tom had been watching him for about ten minutes via a video feed, and might have thought he was asleep, except that his heavy eyelids drooped over his shark-like eyes every ten seconds or so. They never once moved from the Styrofoam cup in front of him.

‘Ready?’ Lauren asked.

Tom nodded, and they made their way to the interview room.

Tom had expected an eruption of anger; a machine-gun burst of swear words, or a chair lobbed in their direction (had it not been screwed to the ground). Instead, Frank’s eyes remained on the empty cup of water.

‘All right, Frank?’ Tom asked.

The builder raised his head and glared into Tom’s eyes. The intensity of his gaze almost caused Tom to tear his eyes away, but the psychological side of policework had been drummed into him. He held Frank’s stare, until the moment passed and Frank lowered his head again.

Tom turned the recording device on, stated the date and time, and those present.

‘Are you sure you don’t want a lawyer here with you? We can get a court-appointed lawyer for you, if you don’t have your own,’ Tom said.

‘I ain’t got nothing to hide, so why the fuck would I need a lawyer?’ Frank snarled.

‘Suspect has declined the offer of a lawyer,’ Tom said, for the recording’s benefit. ‘Now, Frank, can you tell us about your relationship with Richard Handsworth?’

‘The MP?’

‘The very same.’

‘I never had a relationship,’ Frank said. ‘I never met him in my life.’

‘That’s not strictly true, is it?’ Tom said. From a manila folder, Lauren slipped a picture of the Handsworths’ garden. It showed a huge swathe of grass, well-tended flower beds and a recently built conservatory. In one of the windows was a sticker, showing the same logo as the one on Frank’s T-shirt.

‘Did your company build this conservatory?’ Tom asked, sliding the picture towards Frank. The builder spun it around and gazed at it for a moment.

‘It’s an orangery,’ Frank replied. ‘And yes, we did. Like I said, I never met Richard, but I did meet his wife. Only once. Me and Trev—’

‘Trev?’

‘My second-in-command. Trevor Richmond. We went there to price it up together. His wife liked the price and the plans, and we did it. Trev was in charge of the project, and I never set foot on their land again. Her husband was not there when I was.’

‘Would Mrs Handsworth confirm that?’

‘I doubt she’d be able to pick me out of an identity parade.’ He shrugged. ‘Like I

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