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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A na closed the door of her flat and opened the bedroom windows before shoving a frozen cottage pie into the microwave and pouring herself a large glass of sparkling water. She downed it in one go, poured another, and stood by the window. It was bloody hot on the fourth floor. The flat directly opposite was in darkness. Ana pulled a chair to the window and slumped into it.

Meanwhile, thoughts ran through her mind like a runaway train. There were so many unanswered questions about Vanessa’s car accident.

Why hadn’t Carpenter checked the security camera at Jonny Manners’ house? It hadn’t been difficult to spot.

The report hadn’t mentioned the car’s squeaky door. Maybe Penny hadn’t mentioned it at the time. She was most likely in shock.

There must have been a dent in the car from the impact, but Carpenter had only checked local garages. Surely, if the driver had been canny, he would have taken it to a garage further away.

Ana sighed. Bloody lazy cops that couldn’t be bothered when there was legwork to do. The microwave pinged, and Ana took the steaming cottage pie and more water back to the chair by the window.

The lights were now on in the flat opposite. Ana picked up the binoculars she’d left on the windowsill and looked into the living room. The woman was alone. Ana ate the cottage pie and watched the woman go out of sight into what Ana presumed was the bedroom.

Was he already there, waiting for her?

The cottage pie finished, Ana opened the file on Vanessa. The report said that all CCTV cameras were checked along routes that led to the bus stop. Although the car showed up, none of the footage was clear enough to show the reg or make.

The woman across the street was back in the living room, and Ana grabbed the binoculars. She was now wearing a pink dressing gown and had a towel wrapped like a turban on her head. Ana watched as she dropped onto the sofa and picked up a book.

‘Bugger,’ Ana muttered. He wasn’t coming.

Realising it was pointless to sit at the window, she made herself comfortable on the couch and studied the file. Maybe she was being too thorough, as usual.

Still, it wouldn’t help to check out a few garages further afield. Without the registration, it wouldn’t be easy to trace, though.

She exhaled heavily and threw the file onto the coffee table. Tomorrow, she should read through her interview with Alan Mitchell and see if there is anything to pick up on. If only the bloke weren’t so scared. Ana felt sure he had seen some of the lads’ faces, but he wasn’t budging from the ‘I had my eyes on the road’ story.

She rechecked the window, but the woman was still curled up with her book. Ana switched on the TV in time to catch her favourite crime drama.