‘Someone’s behind the vehicle.’
‘Well, both tyres were slit with a knife, so whoever it is has to come around this side in a minute.’
‘Whoever it is better hurry – they’ve been in that cold room three minutes already.’
Kay held her breath as the seconds ticked by.
The figure slipped into view again, and then a dark blue van passed the truck at the exact same moment he ducked beside the offside wheel.
By the time the other vehicle had gone, so had the man.
Barnes slapped his hand on the desk. ‘Bloody hell, the van blocked the view!’
Kay sighed. ‘Jesus, we just can’t catch a break, can we?’
‘What do you want to do now, guv?’
‘We need the footage from that antiques shop. It’s the only way we’re going to find out who that was.’
Chapter Fifteen
Kay slipped her front door key into the lock, her gaze falling to the paraphernalia lining the hallway beside the staircase.
A sack of cat food, another for cat litter and various small fluffy toys were placed alongside ceramic food and drink bowls.
Hearing Adam’s baritone voice in the kitchen, she kicked off her shoes, hung her bag and jacket over the newel post and padded along the hallway.
The back door had been propped open, letting in a warm breeze that carried the scent from the wisteria growing over the garden shed and the faint sound of traffic out on the A20. From the living room, one of Adam’s favourite albums playing in the background created a relaxing ambience.
Entering the kitchen, she shielded her eyes from the sudden glare from the draining board, the sun setting over the rooftops at the end of their garden reflecting off the stainless steel, then turned at the sound of a loud and indignant mew.
Her shoulders relaxed as the tall veterinarian beside the kitchen worktop turned at the sound of her footsteps, a grin on his face – and a tiny tortoiseshell kitten cupped in his hands.
Kay stopped. ‘Okay, now that’s cute.’
‘Thought you might like this week’s visitors.’
She wandered over to him, reached up to caress the nape of his neck as he bent down to kiss her, and twisted her fingers in his dark curls.
‘Bad day?’
She sighed. ‘A frustrating one. What’s the story with this one?’
‘She and her three siblings were found abandoned in a cardboard box at the services area on the M20,’ said Adam, and rubbed his finger between the kitten’s ears. ‘Luckily someone rescued them before they wandered too far and got hit by a car. The other three are in a pen in the living room.’
‘Living room?’ Kay cocked an eyebrow. ‘Not in here?’
‘It’s cooler in there at the moment.’ He managed a sheepish grin. ‘Besides, we can play with them while we’re watching the TV, right?’
She laughed. ‘I don’t think we’ll be watching much of that with this lot around. How long have you got them for?’
‘The bloke from Cats Protection says he’ll be over at the weekend to get them. I’ve sent him photographs so he can add them to the adoption page but they won’t be ready for that for another couple of weeks. We need to get some fat on them first.’
‘Are they healthy?’
He nodded. ‘They seem to be. Scott gave them a thorough check over at the practice when they came in, and I’ve told the rescue centre that I’ll donate our time plus the cost of their vaccinations until they find new homes.’
Kay reached out and squeezed his arm. ‘They’ve landed on their feet finding you.’
‘Ah, you know me – can’t resist an animal in trouble.’ He glanced down as the kitten wiggled in his hands. ‘All right, you can go back with your sister and brothers.’
‘Do you want a glass of wine?’
‘Please – I’ll just put her back in the cage and we’ll sit outside if you like. It’s lovely out there.’
‘Sounds good.’
By the time Adam joined her on the patio, Kay was sitting in one of the two rattan chairs that had been delivered last week, a bucket of ice on the matching table next to her and two glasses filled with a chilled chardonnay.
‘Here – I thought you might need this as that sun goes down.’ He handed her a fleece running jacket she kept in the downstairs cupboard. ‘You look comfy.’
She grinned. ‘I don’t think I’m going to get much of a chance to do this until we solve this latest one. I thought I’d make the most of it.’
Wriggling her arms into the jacket, she leaned back and clinked her glass against his. ‘Cheers. Here’s to four kittens finding a good home soon.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’
Kay took a sip and curled her legs under her, picking bits of grass from her socks.
‘You seem reticent tonight,’ said Adam after a few moments. ‘I take it this latest case is a trying one?’
‘That, and the fact that Sharp is leaving.’ She sighed. ‘He’s moving over to Northfleet this week. He can’t stay at Palace Avenue any longer, according to the Chief Super.’
‘You’ll miss him.’
‘I will. I mean, I know he’ll still come and help me if I need it, and I’ll have to go there for management meetings but it won’t be the same.’
‘How will that go down with the locals?’
‘I think they’ve forgiven me for putting one of their own away a few years ago. Anyway, you’d hope so by now.’ Kay wrinkled her nose. ‘I suppose I’ll find out soon, won’t I?’
‘Are you going to have to take on more of Sharp’s work that he was doing here in Maidstone?’
‘I’ll have to do more of the local press conferences on my own in future, I suppose.’ She paused, lowering her glass. ‘Speaking of which – did you happen to bring out your phone with you?’
‘Yes, here. What are you after?’ Adam pressed his thumb against the screen to unlock it, then handed it over.
‘I missed the media briefing on the news earlier – Sharp was going to make an appeal for more information about our victim’s last movements in case it turns up anything.’
Her other half wrinkled his nose. ‘Your phones will be busy tomorrow, then.’
‘Yes, and unfortunately most of the calls will be useless – but you never know.’ Kay found the app for the regional news company and worked her way down the headlines until she found the conference under a headline that screamed clickbait.
She clicked.
The video started immediately, with Sharp flanked by the Chief Superintendent, Susan Greensmith, and a media officer whose face Kay didn’t recognise.
After running through the facts to date, Sharp lifted his eyes from the prepared statement and looked directly at the camera.
‘We’re asking all members of the public to report any suspicious activity they might have seen between four-fifteen on Friday afternoon through to eight o’clock Monday morning,’ he said, pausing while a photograph was broadcast under his words. ‘In addition, we’re trying to trace the owner of this car, left on the forecourt of the used car garage where Mr Taylor’s body was found…’
Kay tuned out while Sharp read out the Crimestoppers number.
Instead, her gaze drifted to the condensation running down her wineglass as she thought about what Helen Taylor had said to her––
‘Kay?’
She blinked, turning back to Adam. ‘Sorry?’
He smiled and pointed at his phone. ‘The video’s finished.’
‘Oh, yeah.’
‘What were you thinking?’
‘Just something the delivery driver’s wife said to us. I didn’t think to ask at the time.’ She opened up his contacts. ‘You’ve got Ian’s number in here, right?’
‘It should be there.’
‘Okay. Won’t be a minute.’
She took a sip of wine while the call connected, and then Barnes’s gruff voice answered.
‘Hello?’
‘Ian, it’s Kay. I’ve just had a
thought – I never asked Helen Taylor about the plumber.’
‘The plumber?’
‘Yes. She said Carl asked her to leave work early because he was expecting a plumber to turn up.’
‘Right…’
‘But I never asked her if he showed up.’
The silence at the other end of the line spun out a few seconds as Barnes mulled over her words.
‘Where are you going with this, guv?’
She frowned. ‘I’m not sure, but I think I ought to have a quick word with her in the morning. There’s something about it that I can’t quite put my finger on.’
‘No problem. I’ll pick you up as planned, and if you want to talk to her face-to-face we’ll head out to her place before speaking with Mike O’Connor again if you like.’
‘Thanks, Ian. See you tomorrow.’
As she handed back the phone to Adam, he cocked an eyebrow.
‘What are you thinking?’ he said, topping up their glasses.
‘Just tidying up some loose ends,’ said Kay, and forced a smile. ‘Call me paranoid.’
Chapter Sixteen
Kay’s heels crunched across the gravel of her driveway as an indignant blackbird squawked from its position on the gate post as she stalked past, phone to her ear.
She frowned when PC Aaron Stewart answered Helen Taylor’s land line.
‘Aaron? DI Hunter. What happened to the FLO?’
He gave a low snort under his breath. ‘There wasn’t one available, guv. I’ve had the training so I volunteered.’
Kay rolled her eyes, then held up her hand in greeting as Barnes’s car appeared at the kink in the lane and slowed to a standstill outside her house. ‘Hang on, Barnes just got here. I’ll pop you on speakerphone.’
Moments later, they were on the move and she held up her phone so Barnes could hear.
‘Aaron, when we spoke to Helen yesterday, she mentioned that Carl phoned her at work on Friday morning and asked her to leave work early. He told her he’d arranged for a plumber to fix something or other. Could you ask her if he turned up?’
‘Will do. Hang on.’
There was a soft rustle as the constable put the phone down, and Kay could hear low voices in the background as he spoke to Helen Taylor. He returned within thirty seconds.
‘Guv? Mrs Taylor says he never turned up.’
Kay bit her lip. ‘I don’t suppose she has a phone number for him, does she?’
‘No – says they’ve never had to call one out before, so Carl sorted it out and just phoned her when he made the appointment.’
‘Didn’t he tell her what the problem was?’
‘No – and she forgot to ask him.’
Kay thanked Aaron, ended the call and held the phone in her hand, her gaze drifting out the passenger window.
‘What do you think, guv?’
She turned to face her colleague as they approached the end of the road leading away from her suburb. ‘Let’s head over to Sittingbourne first. I want to have a word with Helen’s employers.’
Barnes’s brow furrowed. ‘Where are you going with this?’
She waited while he negotiated the twisting road around three roundabouts and didn’t speak until the car was powering up the hill away from Maidstone.
‘Okay, so this is what’s bothering me, Ian. Carl Taylor disappeared on Friday afternoon. He phoned his wife six hours before that, telling her she needed to get home because he’d arranged for a plumber to go there. Except the man didn’t show up.’
‘Right…’ Barnes’s voice dragged out, and he risked a glance across at her. ‘And?’
‘It’s a long shot, but we’ve got nothing else to go on at the moment, not until the post mortem results. What if Carl was up to something? What if he realised he was out of his depth and thought Helen was in danger?’ Kay exhaled. ‘What if he wanted to get her home as soon as possible? What if he thought she was being watched at work? I mean, he disappeared while he was out on his delivery route, didn’t he?’
‘So he lied to get her out of danger, you mean?’
‘Exactly.’
The frown lines remained, creasing his forehead. ‘It’s a stretch, guv.’
‘I need to make sure. If anything, I need to rule it out. I can’t stop it going around in my head.’
Chapter Seventeen
The offices of Palmer and Twick Solicitors occupied the second storey of a 1960s-built office block that huddled between an abandoned haberdashery shop and a thriving bakery.
Kay’s stomach rumbled as the aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted across the pavement to where she stood.
She cast a sideways look at Barnes. ‘Don’t say it.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it. Best we get something on the way out though, right? Can’t have you fainting on the job.’
Her mouth twitched while she raised her eyes to the dirty brickwork of the office building and the grubby display of buttons on the intercom beside the tired front door.
‘Christ, you need gloves to ring the bloody bell.’ Barnes reached out and used the knuckle of his forefinger to press the button marked for the solicitors, and stepped back as a furious buzz spat out from the speaker.
There was a rattle at the other end, then a chirpy female voice at odds with the drab surroundings filtered through to where they stood.
‘Palmer and Twick, can I help you?’
‘Detective Inspector Kay Hunter and my colleague, Detective Sergeant Ian Barnes. We’d like to speak to Helen Taylor’s manager please.’
There was a click as the door locking mechanism released.
‘Come up the stairs, second floor. Reception is on your right.’
A faint smell of mould clung to the squat hallway when Kay followed Barnes into the building.
A staircase to her left was ill-lit while the corridor leading towards the back of the building looked as if it hadn’t been painted for at least three decades. A bright fire exit sign was the only indication that the building was still considered habitable.
‘Cheap rent, at least,’ murmured Barnes as he led the way up the stairs.
‘You’d hope so.’ Kay kept her hands in her pockets, unwilling to risk placing them on the bannister and wrinkled her nose as she peered at the stains on the drab carpet.
Two floors up, she raised an eyebrow.
The door to Palmer and Twick was made from aluminium and glass with the name of the solicitors’ firm etched into the frosted pane in a brass swirling font. The handle was polished to a high sheen, and when Kay walked in she noticed fresh flowers arranged in a vase on the reception desk.
The office was bright, airy and in stark contrast to the rest of the building she’d encountered.
She turned her attention to the twenty-something woman who peered over a computer screen at her with a curious expression.
Kay held up her warrant card. ‘DI Hunter.’
‘I’ll let Matthew know you want to speak to him,’ said the receptionist. ‘You’re lucky – it’s a quiet day today.’
‘Thanks.’
Barnes wandered across to a large window divided into sixteen panes while the woman picked up the phone and spoke in a low undertone, and when Kay joined him he jerked his chin towards the street.
‘If Helen was being watched, there are a couple of places,’ he murmured. ‘The public car park over the road there, or the portico of the building that’s been boarded up on the corner.’
‘Let’s see what happens,’ said Kay. ‘If we need to, we’ll put in a request for CCTV.’
‘Detective Hunter?’
She turned at the sound of a male voice to see a man in his sixties advancing towards her, hand outstretched.
‘Matthew Twick.’ Piercing blue eyes peered out from under a shock of white hair as the solicitor shook hands with her, then Barnes. ‘Come on through to my office. Would you like something to drink?’
‘We’re fine, thank you.’ Kay followed him through a door to the right of the recep
tion area and took a seat in one of two visitor chairs he indicated.
The office held the familiar mustiness of paperwork gathered over the years. The bookcases were lined with leather-bound legal tomes, and a plethora of framed certificates had been hung on the wall behind Twick’s oak desk.
He sank into a soft leather chair behind it, and clasped his hands in front of him. ‘Such a shock to hear about Helen’s husband.’
‘When did you find out?’
‘One of your officers telephoned us this morning from her house. I told him that if there was anything we could do…’
Aaron, thought Kay.
‘We understand that Helen left work early on Friday,’ she said. ‘Could you confirm what time?’
Twick’s bushy eyebrows bunched together. ‘About one o’clock, I believe. She usually takes her lunch break at noon, so she suggested missing that so she could go. Her husband phoned to say he’d had to call in a plumber apparently.’
Kay waited while Barnes noted the detail, then turned her attention back to the solicitor. ‘Has Helen had any issues at work lately?’
The eyebrows shot upwards. ‘Helen? Good God, no. Model employee. She’s been working for me going on six years now.’
‘What I meant was, has she seemed nervous about anything of late?’
‘No, not at all.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Happy, I’d say. I think they were planning on a trip to London to see a show this Saturday from what I recall from a conversation last week. They were just normal people. It’s what makes what’s happened to Carl all the more shocking.’
‘Mr Twick, have you had any trouble lately with disgruntled clients or others who might have a reason to threaten you or your staff?’
The solicitor’s jaw dropped. ‘No – not that I’m aware of and I can assure you we’d take any sort of threat very seriously, detective. Both Helen and Sophie – my receptionist, you’ve met – know they can come and talk to me about any issues they might have, and neither of them have told me they’ve been threatened.’
A Darker Place Page 7
