Child's Play (D.I. Kim Stone #11)(37)

The red-rimmed eyes turned on Kim hopefully.

Kim understood. She had been informed of her husband’s murder by officers in uniform, but now people in suits had arrived and they were probably going to tell her it had been some kind of mistake made by the guys in uniform.

‘We’re deeply sorry for your loss, Mrs Nixon,’ Bryant offered quickly to disabuse her of that hope.

Her long legs appeared to buckle beneath her and she half fell to the chair.

‘We understand this is clearly quite a shock for you, Mrs Nixon,’ Kim said. ‘Is there anyone we can call?’

‘She’s on her way. The police officer called her,’ she said, revealing a hint of a northern accent.

‘Your mum?’ Kim asked.

She shook her head. ‘Lenora, Barry’s sister, she lives just down the road. She’s coming now.’

‘And there’s a family liaison officer on the way too,’ Bryant offered.

Kim nodded for him to continue as she glanced around the room. The furnishings were matching units formed of light oak. Clutches of scented candles and small cut-glass ornaments decorated the windowsills reflecting pinpoints of light on to the walls around the room.

Kim studied every photograph seeing Barry and his daughter, Barry and Beth, one of Barry and his sister but none of Beth with anyone other than Barry. No family to call and no family on the walls.

Bryant regarded the woman apologetically. ‘Mrs Nixon, we’re sorry to have to ask you questions now but can you tell us if there’s been anything strange in the last few?—’

‘Hold your horses,’ boomed a voice from the hallway.

A uniformed officer appeared behind looking apologetic. The woman who had barged in was slight but her energy was palpable.

She guessed they were now in the company of Barry Nixon’s sister.

‘What are you asking her and why? Obviously there’s some kind of mistake,’ she boomed, grabbing Beth by the hand. Beth leaned into her gratefully, clearly relieved to have someone who felt the same way.

Kim had another surprise as she realised how close the two women appeared to be. From the photographs on the wall Barry had a daughter who had graduated university and it wasn’t a child he’d had with Beth. So, this was his second marriage.

Beth looked up to her sister-in-law and then at the photo on the wall. ‘Lenora, we have to tell…’

‘We’ll do nothing of the sort. We’re not going to upset Katie for nothing. It’s not even him. Have they shown you photos?’

New hope flickered in Beth’s eyes as she shook her head and looked their way.

‘We will be asking one of you to make a formal identification,’ Kim advised. ‘However we are sure that it is your husband, Mrs Nixon.’

She burst into tears.

Kim glanced at Bryant and raised one eyebrow.

He coughed.

‘Until we have proof that it’s him I’m choosing not to believe you,’ said the sister-in-law, removing a thin lemon cardigan.

Bryant coughed again.

‘He’s far too intelligent to get himself killed. He’s a very clever—’

Bryant coughed as though his lungs were full of smoke.

Mrs Nixon stopped crying and looked over as he coughed again.

‘I’m sorry, officer, are you okay. Can I get you something to drink?’

‘Yes, please, anything.’

She made to stand.

‘I’ll do it, Beth. You stay here, sweetie,’ Lenora said, patting her hand.

Bryant shot her an amused look as he followed the woman out of the room. It was a tactic they used often. Divide and learn as much as you could.

But Kim had to address one point first.

‘Mrs Nixon, I really must stress that however much you’d like to believe that your husband isn’t dead, we are in no doubt and allowing you to think anything otherwise is just insensitive on our part. I’m sorry.’

Beth Nixon swallowed and nodded. ‘My head understands but my heart is looking for any reason to disbelieve you.’

‘I know, but I really need to ask you some questions so that we can find the person responsible.’

‘Please, go ahead,’ she said, wiping her nose.

‘Was your husband having any problems with anyone that you know of?’

She shook her head. ‘Barry is a wonderful man, he helps everyone.’

‘Any issues at work?’ Kim asked, hopefully.

‘Not really. Sometimes he has to tell people things they don’t want to hear but everyone is defensive when it comes to their children, aren’t they?’

‘Sorry, what did he do for a living?’ Kim asked.

‘Barry is a counsellor, for children, especially difficult cases.’

Children again. She thought about Belinda Evans.

‘Please, go on,’ Kim urged.

‘He works with kids who have had traumatic childhoods, normally ones with violent tendencies. He practises privately and is very much in demand,’ she said proudly.

Which is why he was going to the corner shop at lunchtime on a week day.

Kim couldn’t help the frisson of distaste that passed through her. As a child, she’d seen plenty of Barrys, all with a different view on how to handle her but all with one thing in common: they had seen her as a personal challenge.