Page 20 of Child's Play

Penn’s smile and response froze on his lips as Philip Maynard hurried towards them wearing a pensive expression beneath his CPS wig.

‘One of the witnesses has gone missing,’ said Philip, urgently.

‘Ours or theirs?’ he asked.

‘Theirs,’ he answered although it didn’t really matter. Any missing person had the power to disrupt and derail the trial, preventing a guilty man getting the justice he deserved.

‘Who?’ Penn asked. Last time he’d checked everyone had been present and correct.

The recall bell sounded behind them.

‘Dexter McCann. He slipped out twenty minutes ago and hasn’t been seen since.’

Gregor’s neighbour, who insisted the man was at home on the night that Devlin Kapoor was murdered.

The man was no threat to the prosecution and the alibi he was providing for Gregor Nuryef was as thin as 1-ply toilet paper, but the bad feeling in his gut was not going away.

In fact, it was starting to get worse.

Fourteen

‘Guv, I am willing to bet my car that the distance between those lobelia plants is spot on,’ Bryant said, as they traversed Mr Blenkinsop’s paved pathway, along which was a one-foot-wide border on either side holding purple, and only purple, lobelia blooms.

‘Even if you offered something decent I wouldn’t bet against you,’ she said, taking in the symmetrically planted hanging baskets on either side of the door.

Vertical hanging blinds adorned both the upper and lower windows. A way of maintaining privacy but allowing the occupant to see out. Perfect for the nosey neighbour.

‘Mr Blenkinsop?’ Kim said as the door was opened by a man in his late fifties.

The smell of lemon hit her nostrils and she wasn’t sure if it came from the house or him.

His jeans had a crease pressed into the front of each leg and his short-sleeved white tee shirt was spotless.

A pair of glasses hung on a cord around his neck.

He nodded.

‘May we come in?’

He didn’t step aside but nodded again, as he looked down. ‘Of course, if you’ll just remove your shoes.’

Kim looked at Bryant and then back at the man.

‘I’m sure our footwear is reasonably clean, Mr—’

‘Please remove them,’ he insisted.

In all her years as a police officer she had never once been asked to remove her shoes before entering a property.

‘Never mind, sir, we were hoping you could assist with the events along the road but we’ll continue on our way to the next property.’

‘Okay, okay,’ he said, opening the door. His obvious need to be involved trumped his need for carpet control.

‘If you wouldn’t mind talking in the kitchen,’ he said, pointing along the hallway.

Damage limitation. They were not being allowed into the reception rooms with their shoes still on.

She headed past him towards what appeared to be the epicentre of the zesty smell.