Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1 Sue Nicholls (best short books to read TXT) 📖

In the bar, the group of old men, amid much arguing and jostling, widened their circle to let Kitty and Sam in. The barman was called to bring more drinks.

Sam knocked back a neat rum and grinned at his rollicking companions. He was reeling at their luck. A witness turning up so unexpectedly was worth raising a glass to. Another rum landed before him on the table, and soon the room was a blur of noise and faces.

A phone rang somewhere and Kitty’s voice, loud with alcohol, said, ‘Hello?’ For a moment, her face wore a broad smile, then she put her hand over the other ear and frowned. ‘Sorry, it’s noisy here. Would you repeat that?’ She listened, her eyes on Sam, and said, ‘Okay. Thanks a lot, Lisa. I owe you one.’

Sam raised his eyebrows.

‘It’s been lovely, everyone.’ Kitty stood up, pushing her chair backwards on the vinyl floor. ‘But I’m afraid something has come up and we need to go.’

There was a chorus of regret and Jean said, ‘Sit. Nothing can be so urgent.’

‘We’d love to, Jean, but this is truly important. Maybe we can come back before we return home.’

They exchanged contact details, and she strode to the door with Sam following her in a haze of intoxication. On the street, they sheltered against the wall of the bar as a boisterous crowd streamed past.

‘What was that about?’ Sam asked.

‘It was my forensic friend, Lisa, about the green stuff.’ She took a breath and frowned in confusion. ‘It came from Little Calum Lake.’

‘God.’ Sam shook his head from side to side. ‘I need coffee - or water. Let’s sit somewhere quieter. They dropped into a small supermarket and bought bottles of water and a packet of cakes to soak up the alcohol, then walked in silence back to their guest house. In Kitty’s room, they sat on the bed, their shoulders touching, and drank the water while shovelling down cake. After a few minutes, Sam was more clear-headed. ‘So, the trolley in the park was used to…,’ he hesitated, ‘To do what? Could it be a coincidence about the lake?’

Kitty shook her head, ‘No, I don’t believe in coincidences. That trolley was used in the murder of your mum. Of that I’m certain.’

Sam flinched at her blunt words, but his heart told him she was right. In a low voice he said, ‘Max must have buried it there.’  He did not wish to think about the purpose of the trolley.

It would be difficult to prove. We can’t tell how long it was there for. Lisa said she wouldn’t be able to date it, other than a rough estimate based on its state, but even that would be conjecture. It was wrapped in plastic, and we have no idea when it came to the surface. Basically, we have nothing.’

Sam thought for a moment. ‘Did she get fingerprints from the plastic?’

‘I doubt it, or she would have said.’ Kitty pulled out her phone, ‘I’ll text her.’

Sam sat in silence, then said, ‘It looks as though we might be finished here and with this trolley turning up, I think we should get back to asking questions nearer to home.’

‘Agreed,’ Kitty said, ‘Once we’ve had tomorrow's meeting with the police.’

‘Something might come out of that, I suppose,’ said Sam, ‘But if not, I moot we try for an earlier flight home.’

Kitty pulled a face. ‘My poor credit card balance.’

‘At least we’ll have more time to get ready for your Dad’s wedding. I haven’t even bought a present yet.’

‘Neither have I. They seem to have everything they need.’

‘Baby stuff?’ Sam eyed Kitty, wondering how she felt about the prospect of a baby half-sister or brother, but she did not react.

‘I expect they’ve got a list.’ Kitty gave a crooked smile. ‘I ought to know, didn’t I? I’m not a brilliant daughter.’

Sam nudged her arm with his elbow. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. He did his best, but your dad was hardly an outstanding example of good gift buying. Remember that elephant?’

‘I do. There was no space for it in my room.’ Kitty chuckled at the memory. ‘It lay on the bed during the day, staring at the ceiling, and during the night it made a massive furry mountain on the floor that I jumped on in the morning.’

‘Maybe you could give it back to them for the baby.’ Sam chortled, picturing Cerys’s face, and Kitty snorted, forgetting for a moment the gravity of their mission.

43 KITTY

They drew chairs up to a desk in a cramped, open plan office. Close by, Mauritian police personnel were bent over computers or held telephones to their ears, their French words too fast to follow.

‘Thanks very much for seeing us. Merci beaucoup.’ Kitty gave the middle-aged policewoman her best smile, and the officer grinned back. In a heavy accent, she apologised that her English was not better.

‘I do not get a lot of practice,’ she said, ‘But I will try to help.’ She straightened a sheaf of paper that had been lying on the desk, and slid it back into a buff folder, propping it against the side her computer screen and holding it in place with a pot of pens and a coffee mug. Her name was Officer Edouard.

After explaining the purpose of their enquiries, and her relationship to the ‘deceased’, Kitty flipped open her reporter’s notepad and pulled a pencil from behind her ear. ‘What would be the normal procedure after a crime like this?’ she asked.

The policewoman pulled a second folder from a drawer, and said, ‘I can tell you what did happen if that is helpful.’

‘That would be brilliant.’

She removed a sheaf of papers from the envelope, and Kitty and Sam studied her face, watching her eyes shuttle left and right over one page at a