Page 18 of Child's Play

And yet she was finding out little else about their victim. Normally she got a feel for the person by roaming their home. In this case she had two homes and was none the wiser about the person tied to a swing.

Usually she would find evidence of their life, their interests. She’d glance at books, magazines, style of furniture, ornaments and nick-nacks left lying around, but right now Belinda Evans was a 61-year-old academic, a former college professor of child psychology. Where was Belinda the woman? What were her passions, her fears, aspirations? Kim wanted the meat on the bones, the flesh that made her individual, unique. How had she grown up with Veronica as a sister and what story was hiding there.

She hadn’t been expecting to find framed photo albums and sentimental trinkets. The woman had never married. There had been no children’s or grandchildren’s images to fill the mantelpiece but still Kim didn’t get it. Her own home held one single photograph of herself and Mikey when they were six years old, and although her space was sparsely decorated she saw evidence of herself everywhere. Dog bowls, bike parts, magazines, psychological studies of serial killers, a dead plant on the windowsill. An oil stain on the carpet that just wouldn’t come out.

But here there was nothing, which, for a woman who was clearly complex, made absolutely no sense.

She bypassed the spare bedroom that held not one stick of furniture and headed for the bedroom at the back.

This one held a double bed, a bedside cabinet with lamp, a dresser, a wardrobe and a full-length mirror.

Kim headed straight for the bedside cabinet. Top two drawers were empty but the bottom one held a copy ofFifty Shades of Greyand a pair of glasses.

Kim felt her lips turn up. Finally, a glimpse behind the curtain.

She strode to the first of the two wardrobes and found a small selection of pressed clothes similar to what she’d been wearing the night before, with a couple of added pairs of slacks. A shelf held underwear and flesh-coloured tights.

Her eyes passed quickly over the clothing to the item on the right.

She removed the overnight bag and placed it on the bed as Bryant entered the room.

‘Anything in the paperwork?’

He shook his head. ‘A few recent bills, a couple of solicitors’ letters from the completion of the house purchase and a few bank statements. You?’

Kim pulled back the zip and started to remove the contents of the case. Two skirts, one pair of trousers. Two shirts, a pack of white lace lingerie, unopened, one pair of shoes, basic underwear, a small pill container already filled and one other small item nestled in the side pocket.

‘So, where was Belinda Evans going?’ Bryant asked.

Kim held up the packet of three condoms. ‘And, more importantly, who was she going with?’

Thirteen

Penn pushed away the second half of his sandwich.

‘You not eating that?’ Doug asked, screwing up the packet of his second bag of cheese and onion crisps.

Penn shook his head as Lynne smiled tolerantly.

‘Doug, I swear you’ve got a hollow leg or something.’

‘Hate waste,’ he said, reaching across the table.

Penn didn’t mind. It was a bland egg mayo on brown bread. Had he been at home making lunch with his brother he’d have gone heavier on the mayo, added a sprinkling of salt and then spread the mixture between two chunks of thick white bread. But even that wouldn’t appeal to him now.

He hated court days. He understood the need to give evidence to finish the job and close the case. And he’d done his bit. As the arresting officer, he’d been first to stand up and read his statement. A few questions had followed from the defence which he’d braced himself for, but they’d been pretty harmless.

‘That barrister went so soft on you I thought he was going to offer to rub your feet while you were up there,’ Lynne observed, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

Yeah, that’s what Penn was worried about. In his experience, the defence team either went after the police or the witnesses. If they were going after police they questioned everything about the procedure. They recited passages word for word from the PACE book, analysing every action taken, search warrants, arrest procedure, questioning and covering everything from police brutality to whether the suspect had been served lunch.

Penn knew that every procedure had been followed to the letter but he had expected some kind of battle from the barrister.

So, if it wasn’t the police they were going after, what did they know about the witnesses?

‘Yeah, the guy was almost plaiting your hair,’ Doug agreed.

‘Hey, don’t knock it,’ Lynne said, nudging Doug. ‘We’re up next and I’m not in the mood for a mauling.’