Read Online Something Wicked by Kerry Wilkinson - Free Book Online

over but there was no reply. What’s that thing they do . . .’
    He swirled his arm in the air, searching the word until Andrew gave it to him: ‘A trace.’
    ‘Yes, they did that trace thing but they said the card thing, simple something—’
    ‘A SIM card.’
    ‘Right, they said that had been removed, or it had been turned off. We found a few old bank statements around too, plus he’s had mail in the past few months. Mainly things from the
bank and college. We kept it all just in case and it’s in that envelope.’
    Richard sat back with his tea, taking a sip and then gulping again. He’d just handed over his son’s life in a pack; no wonder he was a little upset.
    ‘Is there anything else you can think of?’ Andrew asked.
    Richard shook his head, his blank expression matched by his wife’s. ‘I wish I could.’

8
    Andrew gazed around Nicholas’s bedroom as Jenny approached the window and nudged aside the lace netting to peer outside.
    Richard Carr waited in the doorway, bobbing from one foot to the other. ‘The police went through everything, obviously. They took away Nicholas’s laptop but returned it covered in
that dust stuff. Other than that, everything is pretty much how he left it.’ He paused. ‘I never used to come in here. I remember what it was like when my parents came into my room. I
hated it.’
    He blew out uncomfortably, unsure what else to add. Andrew smiled weakly again; it was the best he could do. ‘If you leave us here, we’ll see if there’s anything that could
help and come downstairs when we’re done.’
    Richard waited for a few moments before nodding, turning and closing the door quietly.
    Andrew joined Jenny by the window, gazing out to where the boys were still playing football on the green.
    ‘I hated it when my parents came in my room too,’ he said.
    Jenny turned with a smirk: ‘Is that where you stashed your massive porn supply?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘You kept it somewhere else?’
    ‘No, I . . .’ Andrew stopped himself, not taking the bait. ‘It’s just your own haven, isn’t it? When you’re that age, you need somewhere you can lock yourself
away and moan about the rest of the world.’
    Jenny breezed across the room towards the bed. ‘I used to get pocket money if my room was tidy. My mum would come in every Friday and make sure there was nothing on the floor and that
everything was packed away where it was meant to be.’
    ‘How long did that go on for?’
    Frown lines appeared on Jenny’s forehead as she stuck out her bottom lip. ‘Until I was sixteen, seventeen. Something like that.’
    ‘That’s quite, erm . . . strict.’
    Dimple, get-out-of-jail smile: ‘Yeah, but it’s not as if she was
really
inspecting what I kept in my room. She’d have a quick rummage, make sure there was nothing lying
around the floor and then I’d get my money. It’s not as if she went poking around underneath my bed. I used to have this soft elephant thing that had been in my room forever. I
don’t remember being given it, it was one of those things that end up being around. I pulled all of the stuffing out of its arse for the perfect hiding place.’
    Andrew wondered if he should follow it up by asking precisely what it was Jenny was keeping in her elephant’s backside but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
    ‘Did you find anything poking around the kitchen?’ he asked.
    Jenny shook her head. ‘Lots of cleaning stuff. The cupboard under the sink is like that aisle in the supermarket where no one ever goes with all the detergents and stuff. Mix it all
together and you could probably whip up some crystal meth. The whole room was spotless, shiny handles, sparkling worktops – like an advert for Mr Muscle.’
    Perfect: it wasn’t as if Andrew had expected her to find Nicholas’s body tucked into the freezer but you could tell a lot about people from their kitchen.
    ‘Draining board?’ he asked.
    ‘Clear.’
    ‘Dishwasher?’
    ‘They don’t have