Page 67 of Little Children (Detective Kim Stone #22)

Sixty-Six

Bryant entered the squad room to a wall of silence. The only person present was Roy Moss.

As Red tended to rotate who he left manning the phones, he guessed it was Moss’s turn today. Either that or Red still couldn’t stand to look at his face.

Moss offered him a salute as a greeting. Bryant acknowledged him and headed into their own war room.

Both Penn and Stacey looked up in surprise.

‘Forgot something, Bryant?’ Stacey asked, looking around him.

‘Guv’s with the chief,’ he said, taking a seat. ‘You two got anything more?’

‘Still feeling uncomfortable that both families were victims of burglary in the last few months.’

‘Same officers?’

‘Nah, Red and Moss attended the Stevens family, and Adil and Dickinson attended the Reid family.’

Bryant could understand the dead end she’d come up against. There had been no hint of impropriety against either of those two officers, but he could understand her discomfort.

‘Still feels a bit…’

‘Cockfighting,’ Penn called out, looking from one to the other.

Stacey began to nod her agreement while Bryant felt one of his eyebrows rise.

‘That’s what they’re masquerading as on the dark web. Vile enough for people to find who know what they’re looking for, but not gonna raise as much attention as dog fighting,’ he explained before turning his full attention back to the screen.

At a loss as to what to do next, Bryant decided to put the kettle on. The guv would probably appreciate a cuppa before heading off to wherever they were going next.

He grabbed Penn’s mug as he headed out the door.

He filled the kettle and stared at it, still trying to make sense of what they’d been told by Richard Wade.

A hair, one single blonde hair, that he was in no doubt would belong to Justin Holmes.

If he were to believe the worst of Moss, then everything would make sense: the impromptu visit to the boyfriend, the unnecessary trip back to the morgue.

He wouldn’t be the first officer to plant evidence to secure an early result, but Bryant sure hoped he’d be the last.

As with everything else, he had no proof. It was circumstantial. Damn that seedy bastard to hell, Bryant thought, throwing Penn’s empty mug into the sink.

‘Hey, bud, we’re up,’ Roy called from the doorway. His voice was full of urgency, and his eyes were alight.

‘Got a jumper over at the supermarket. He’s on the roof, and there’s no one else here. Boss said to take you.’

‘Okay, let me just tell?—’

‘I told ’em already. Now come on – we haven’t got much time.’

Bryant put down the kettle and followed the man out the door.