Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(26)

A month after that while competing in regional championships the beam star, Kaisha, had been taken ill with tummy cramps and the gym coach had chosen Naomi to take her place. Alison had seen the toes curl and had fearfully told the gym teacher that Naomi was going to fall. She hadn’t listened and said Naomi was perfectly capable.

Naomi had taken to the beam and during the routine had fallen and sprained her wrist. Alison had later come to understand that although capable of mastering the beam she had developed a mental block that had made her fearful of the apparatus and that fear had manifested itself as a toe curl of which the girl herself had been unaware. From that moment Alison had been fascinated with understanding people’s behaviour. What they were aware of and what they weren’t.

‘I’d also like to talk to you about the other business.’

She nodded and forced herself not to swallow, revealing her own concession to nerves.

She had already realised that the ‘other business’ would somehow be invisibly attached to her CV for the rest of her career, that the ‘other business’ would overshadow any of her previous triumphs and anything she might achieve in the future. She would never outrun or escape the ‘other business’ and the proof of it was lying silently in a hospital bed.

‘It has no bearing on what you’ve been brought here to do.’

‘Thank you,’ she said revealing nothing.

‘We all make mistakes,’ he said, meeting her gaze.

She returned his stare unflinchingly while appreciating the kindly way he’d addressed the mistake she made.

Except one small problem remained. She wasn’t totally convinced it had been a mistake at all.





Thirty-Six





The room was poky, dark and filled with folders. Kim was reminded of TV private eye offices.

‘I wouldn’t invite you to sit even if I had more chairs,’ Nina said, standing beside the desk.

Kim was relieved to see that the woman still dressed well in a fitted, straight navy dress that ended just below the knees. The designer wasn’t obvious to her but she looked smart and functional. The dark brown hair was an inch longer than she remembered. Possibly the result of fewer salon visits, Kim wondered.

‘So, how’ve you been?’ she asked, taking the single seat.

Colour flooded into Nina’s face. ‘Are you serious?’ she exploded. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

Kim shrugged, ‘Just passing.’

‘Liar,’ she spat. ‘Now unless this is an official call about one of my clients you can—’

‘Who are?’ Kim asked. ‘I mean, who are your clients these days?’

The hatred bubbled behind her eyes. ‘None of your fucking business. Nothing here concerns you. You’re not welcome either here or at my—’

‘Where is that, now?’ Kim asked, unable to resist needling her. This was guiltless, calorie-free fun, especially when she remembered the dog that had died a painful death after she’d fed it antifreeze to warn her off the investigation into the Crestwood children’s home. ‘You still living in that nice big house in…’

‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous. You know full well I had no chance of keeping my home, or my children in private education, you fucking bitch. I live in a terraced house in Old Hill and my boys attend the local comprehensive because of you and—’

‘Oh, Nina, please,’ Kim said, losing patience with the holier-than-thou attitude. ‘Your husband deserved everything he got and I’m sorry you lost everything you had. I’m sorry you lost your high-paying job in Birmingham, I’m sorry you missed out on your imminent promotion to partner. I’m sorry you lost your home and that your boys have had to be uprooted to new schools. And all because of what your husband did.’

Kim could see the clenched fists were trembling by her sides.

‘Except I’m not sorry at all, Nina, because you knew everything he’d done and you never told anyone. You speaking out could have saved lives, so I couldn’t really give a shit about—’

‘Leave,’ she barked, pointing at the door. ‘The very sight of you is offensive to me and I don’t have to tolerate—’

‘Not to mention what you did to that dog,’ Kim said, shaking her head. ‘I mean, that was low.’

‘Get out,’ Nina cried.

‘And obstructing the course of the investigation to protect your own—’

‘Inspector, I’m warning you. Get out.’

‘Where were you Sunday night, Nina?’ Kim asked, calmly, wrong-footing her.

‘At home with my boys,’ she shot back without thinking. Too caught up in the rage to consider not answering.

‘Thanks for your time,’ Kim said, jumping up from the seat. ‘Been lovely to catch up,’ she said, following Bryant out of the office.

She wasn’t surprised to hear something crash against the wooden door as it closed.

‘What do you think?’ she asked Bryant as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

‘Not sure,’ he answered. ‘But I can tell you that if she wasn’t angry enough to hurt you before, she sure is now.’





Thirty-Seven