Stacey felt her insides recoil at his proximity but she didn’t move a muscle.
‘And that’s all I’ve got, constable,’ he said, sitting back. ‘Except to say, you should probably be careful.’
‘Are you threatening me, Mr Flint?’ Stacey asked, as a chill worked through her.
‘Not at all. I’m giving you a piece of advice.’
Stacey noted his exact words on her pad.
That’s not what it had sounded like to her.
FORTY-THREE
Kim took her place at the front of the room. She didn’t mind Travis’s silent objection by sitting in his office. From the corner of her eye she could see that he was staring at his computer screen but his hand on the mouse was still.
He was listening.
‘Okay,’ she said, claiming their attention. ‘We learned yesterday that the Preeces have not inspected the Cowley property for years. That much is obvious. The place is a shit tip, and the chance of the techies finding anything to link the family to the bodies is hopeful, at best.
‘We did, however, find this,’ she said, handing out copies of the half note.
Five pairs of eyes frowned at it much the same way as she and Travis had the previous day.
‘I don’t know if we can gain anything from it but if anyone wants a stab…’
‘Me,’ said Penn at the back.
She noted his headpiece was a black and white polkadot design today.
‘I’d like to give it a go.’
‘Crack on, then,’ she said. ‘We visited Mr Cowley junior in hospital yesterday but were blocked at every turn by his sister. Now, she is currently trying to be everywhere at once so she can’t stay by his side indefinitely. I’m wondering if we should…’
‘How about I visit him?’ asked Lynda.
Lynda was a young attractive woman, and the best chance they had of teasing some information out of the young man.
‘Aren’t you working on CCTV for the attempted abduction, and the RTA yesterday?’ Kim asked.
‘I’ll carry on with that while she’s gone,’ said Lewis, shooting up his hand.
‘Okay, thanks Lewis. Great idea, Lynda. His sister still insists it was an accident and that he can’t speak.’
She raised her eyebrows to indicate her feelings on both scores.
‘I’ll check on Mr Dhinsa while I’m there as well,’ Lynda offered. ‘Still unconscious at eleven last night. Oh, and breath test on the supermarket driver was negative. Witness statements still being taken,’ she added. ‘And the post mortem on the female will take place later today.’
‘Lynda, would you?…’
‘I’ll get right back on it once I’ve been to the hospital,’ she said, brightly.
Kim smiled in her direction. Jeez, this girl was keen.
Johnson leaned forward, frowning.
‘If Lynda’s at the hospital, should we maintain a presence back at the Cowley house while the techies are still searching? Pile on the pressure to see if anything gives?’
‘You volunteering?’ Kim asked.
He nodded his shiny bald head.
Kim felt the excitement in her stomach.
‘Okay, field trips sorted. This Cowley family is hiding something and we need to know what it is. They haven’t paid rent to the Preeces in years, and I think we should dig as far as we can with this family. Do they have any other land? Why are the Preece family so accommodating to the Cowleys?
‘And someone needs to chase ballistics and see what we have on that bullet.’
Gibbs held his hand up, taking responsibility for that task. ‘And I’ll work with Penn on matching the description of our male to the mispers reports.’
Kim nodded, satisfied. It was a two-way exchange, feeding off each other’s energy. She felt good, energised, hopeful.
And then she spied Travis standing in the doorway.
She just hoped she could maintain it.
FORTY-FOUR
‘Why the hell is she sitting outside?’ Bryant asked, as his colleague pulled on to the car park.
‘A break from the fiery furnaces,’ Dawson quipped.
His question was answered as she lit a cigarette.
‘Didn’t know you smoked,’ Bryant said to Frost, getting out of the car.
‘Near-death experiences and dead colleagues can cure a ten-year abstention,’ she said.
Only two shiny silver chairs were placed around the table, and Tracy’s designer handbag was occupying the second.
Bryant pulled two chairs from the next table when it became clear her handbag was staying seated on the chair beside her.
‘Spare me the details, but did he suffer?’ she asked, spearing Bryant with her eyes.
He would swear he saw some evidence of tears having escaped those slightly swollen lids.
‘No details,’ he said, kindly. The true horror of what they’d found would be withheld from the press. She didn’t need the picture in her head. No one did.
‘Any leads?’ she asked, shortly, as Dawson scraped the metal chair across the slab as he sat.
‘We’re working on it, Frost,’ he answered.
‘Well, do it quicker, will you?’ she snarled. ‘He was a good kid.’
Bryant was surprised to see the emotion that she hid with a cough.
‘Did you know him well?’ he asked.
‘Been working with him for a few months now. Keen as mustard and not bad at reading people,’ she said, glancing at Dawson.
‘For his own ends,’ Bryant responded. He felt slightly defensive of the way the lad had manipulated his colleague, through vanity, into going against the boss’s wishes. ‘Any enemies you know of?’
Tracy shook her head and blew out a stream of smoke before pounding the cigarette into the ashtray.
‘Surprisingly, despite our charm and wit, us reporters are not the most popular people in the world. But I can’t think of anyone who would want to decapitate him.’
So she knew that much about Bubba’s death. Bryant decided not to pursue how she’d found out.
‘Have you spoken to his boyfriend yet?’ she asked, testily.
‘Boyfriend?’ Dawson asked, looking his way. Bryant shrugged. He’d never even met the young reporter.
Frost looked incredulous. ‘Really, Dawson? The shirts didn’t give it away?’
‘Truthfully, Frost, I’ve never judged a man’s sexuality on the colour of his shirts.’
She shook her head as she took a pad and pen from her handbag on the seat beside her. She scribbled for a few seconds and then ripped off the piece of paper.
‘His name is Nigel, and you’ll find him here,’ she said.
‘Nexus?’ Dawson asked, raising one eyebrow.
‘New club opening next week off the Stourbridge ring road. He’s the Manager.’
‘Serious boyfriend?’ Bryant asked.
‘About a month; so, practically married,’ she said.
Bryant held her attention. ‘Was he working on anything likely to get him hurt?’
Frost coloured and shook her head.
‘Do you want to elaborate?’ Bryant asked.
‘No,’ she answered, reaching for her handbag.
‘Come on, Frost,’ Dawson said, leaning forward. ‘You hinted at something on the phone. Sounded like he was working on something. What was he investigating?’
‘You guys,’ she answered.