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Authors: Sibel Hodge
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a break-in, but she didn’t make any claim. She said there was just a bit of damage to the rear door where they broke in, but apparently nothing was stolen.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ I said. People didn’t usually break into a house worth that much and steal nothing, unless they were looking for something. The question is, what were they looking for and was it related to the bank robbery? ‘Thanks. Yo.’ I hung up.
I walked up the gravel driveway past a black Porsche with CT 1 on the private number plate and banged on the heavy oak door of the house.
Five bangs later, there was still no answer and the house was silent, so as Nosy was my middle name, I made my way around to the back of the house.
The curtains were all closed at the rear as well. I knocked on the back door but still no one answered.
I tried the handle. It turned with an echoing click.
That didn’t give me a particularly warm and fuzzy feeling.
I swung the door open and peered inside.
Through the gloom, I saw a kitchen decked out in lots of stainless steel and red. It was pretty safe to say that the red wasn’t part of the original design, though, seeing as it was coming from a gaping slit in Carl Thomas’s throat.
Chapter 4
Dead people didn’t freak me out. Granted, being in a kitchen with a dead guy wasn’t one of my favourite pastimes, but I’d seen enough of them during my seventeen years in the police force to get used to it. The thing that was really freaking me out was that I’d have to call Romeo and let him know Carl Thomas was as dead as a sabre-toothed tiger. I hadn’t spoken to him for over a week since his ultimatum, and I kind of wanted to be in denial about the whole thing.
I punched in his number on my mobile and glanced around the kitchen for anything screaming CLUE in big letters.
Carl lay on his back on the floor next to a shiny stainless steel cooker, his eyes closed and his throat wide open. Splatters of blood covered the cooker, the steel worktop, the surrounding white cupboards, and a pool of blood spread out on the floor around him. I hoped the stainless steel lived up to its promises, although I suspected the blood would be leaving a nasty mark. He wore the same clothes he’d been wearing when he turned up at the boxing match the night before. The only difference was they were stained bright red. A half-empty cocktail glass was on the worktop with some sort of red liquid in it. I took a sniff – a cosmopolitan. I could smell the vodka and cranberry juice.
‘Hi, Amber.’ Romeo’s voice sounded tense, and since he usually called me darling, not Amber, that was a dead giveaway, as well.
‘Hi! How are you? What’ve you been up to?’ I gushed, not quite knowing why. I wasn’t a gushy girl so why was I suddenly gush central? I cringed to myself.
‘What’s up?’
‘Oh, not much. I’m just standing in a kitchen with a dead guy.’
A pause where I pictured him doing some deep breathing, then: ‘The weird thing is, that doesn’t even sound weird coming from you. Where are you, and who’s the dead guy?’
‘I’m at Carl Thomas’s house – the owner of Kinghorn Thomas Bank. Carl’s had his throat slit.’ I glanced at Carl again, hoping for his sake that I’d just imagined the whole thing and really he was just having a little nap after a fight with some red food dye or a gallon of cranberry cosmopolitans.
Nope. He was still dead.
‘What?’ Romeo took a moment to let that sink in. ‘I’m working the safety deposit box robbery case at his bank.’
‘I know. That’s why I called you.’
‘Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ Romeo hung up.
Before he arrived, I took the opportunity to poke around in the house. OK, technically I wasn’t supposed to. Technically, I should’ve waited for the scene of crime officers to do their stuff, but I was very careful, and technically my curiosity was now in overdrive.
The back door hadn’t been forced. The glass panel
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ I said. People didn’t usually break into a house worth that much and steal nothing, unless they were looking for something. The question is, what were they looking for and was it related to the bank robbery? ‘Thanks. Yo.’ I hung up.
I walked up the gravel driveway past a black Porsche with CT 1 on the private number plate and banged on the heavy oak door of the house.
Five bangs later, there was still no answer and the house was silent, so as Nosy was my middle name, I made my way around to the back of the house.
The curtains were all closed at the rear as well. I knocked on the back door but still no one answered.
I tried the handle. It turned with an echoing click.
That didn’t give me a particularly warm and fuzzy feeling.
I swung the door open and peered inside.
Through the gloom, I saw a kitchen decked out in lots of stainless steel and red. It was pretty safe to say that the red wasn’t part of the original design, though, seeing as it was coming from a gaping slit in Carl Thomas’s throat.
Chapter 4
Dead people didn’t freak me out. Granted, being in a kitchen with a dead guy wasn’t one of my favourite pastimes, but I’d seen enough of them during my seventeen years in the police force to get used to it. The thing that was really freaking me out was that I’d have to call Romeo and let him know Carl Thomas was as dead as a sabre-toothed tiger. I hadn’t spoken to him for over a week since his ultimatum, and I kind of wanted to be in denial about the whole thing.
I punched in his number on my mobile and glanced around the kitchen for anything screaming CLUE in big letters.
Carl lay on his back on the floor next to a shiny stainless steel cooker, his eyes closed and his throat wide open. Splatters of blood covered the cooker, the steel worktop, the surrounding white cupboards, and a pool of blood spread out on the floor around him. I hoped the stainless steel lived up to its promises, although I suspected the blood would be leaving a nasty mark. He wore the same clothes he’d been wearing when he turned up at the boxing match the night before. The only difference was they were stained bright red. A half-empty cocktail glass was on the worktop with some sort of red liquid in it. I took a sniff – a cosmopolitan. I could smell the vodka and cranberry juice.
‘Hi, Amber.’ Romeo’s voice sounded tense, and since he usually called me darling, not Amber, that was a dead giveaway, as well.
‘Hi! How are you? What’ve you been up to?’ I gushed, not quite knowing why. I wasn’t a gushy girl so why was I suddenly gush central? I cringed to myself.
‘What’s up?’
‘Oh, not much. I’m just standing in a kitchen with a dead guy.’
A pause where I pictured him doing some deep breathing, then: ‘The weird thing is, that doesn’t even sound weird coming from you. Where are you, and who’s the dead guy?’
‘I’m at Carl Thomas’s house – the owner of Kinghorn Thomas Bank. Carl’s had his throat slit.’ I glanced at Carl again, hoping for his sake that I’d just imagined the whole thing and really he was just having a little nap after a fight with some red food dye or a gallon of cranberry cosmopolitans.
Nope. He was still dead.
‘What?’ Romeo took a moment to let that sink in. ‘I’m working the safety deposit box robbery case at his bank.’
‘I know. That’s why I called you.’
‘Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ Romeo hung up.
Before he arrived, I took the opportunity to poke around in the house. OK, technically I wasn’t supposed to. Technically, I should’ve waited for the scene of crime officers to do their stuff, but I was very careful, and technically my curiosity was now in overdrive.
The back door hadn’t been forced. The glass panel
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