Read Online The Calling by Alison Bruce - Free Book Online Page B

‘But if she worked anywhere in town, I may have walked right past her and not noticed. No, I don’t recognize her,’ he gave an apologetic shrug, ‘but I’ll help if I can. Fire away.’
    ‘Our incident room received an anonymous phone call suggesting that you held vital information that could point us to the present whereabouts of Kaye Whiting,’ Goodhew said evenly. He let his gaze roam casually around the room, before directing it back on to Walsh.
    ‘What sort of information?’ Walsh’s frown returned, the perplexed furrows on his forehead deepening.
    ‘I have no idea,’ Goodhew answered coolly. ‘Perhaps they thought she was here ?’
    Walsh shook his head and rose to his feet. ‘Well, we can answer that one straight away. I’ll give you the guided tour.’
    Goodhew followed in dutiful silence.
    Walsh held open the door to the kitchen. ‘As you can see this is the kitchen, not really big enough to conceal a body, but let’s check under the sink just to be on the safe side.’
    Goodhew opened the kitchen units one by one, then swung them closed. ‘I wasn’t expecting a body under the sink, Mr Walsh, but if you’re happy to show me round the rest of the house, that’s great.’
    Walsh nodded towards the window. ‘The garden’s too small for a shed or a patio so I think I’m in the clear there, too.’
    Goodhew pointed to a full-length cupboard. ‘Vacuum cleaner?’
    Peter Walsh opened it and gave Goodhew a few seconds to glance at the Dyson, blue broom, and roll of dustbin sacks. He then closed it and led Goodhew upstairs. ‘First the bathroom and second bedroom.’
    Goodhew looked into each room in turn. The boxroom contained no bed, just an assortment of half-unpacked boxes.
    ‘Been sitting there since the move. I keep thinking I’ll get round to them one day.’ Walsh stepped back on to the landing, opening and then closing the airing cupboard door. ‘Linen cupboard.’ He continued further and flicked the light switch for his own bedroom. ‘Last room in the house, apart from the loft.’
    The main bedroom, like the rest of the house, was furnished with restraint. The double bed, flanked on one side by a low table and on the other by a bedside cabinet, faced an extensive built-in wardrobe.
    One door was ajar and Goodhew peered inside.
    Walsh swung the other door open. ‘Be my guest.’
    Clothes hung in neat rows, above four pairs of shoes, a pair of trainers and a video camera returned to its case.
    ‘I need to get myself a new one. Can’t afford it at the moment, though,’ Walsh explained.
    ‘No computer, either?’ Goodhew asked.
    ‘No, same story. Can you tell me what sort of person tries to implicate someone innocent in a crime?’
    Goodhew studied Peter Walsh. ‘You’ve been very forthcoming in letting me look around like this. It makes me feel that you’re not altogether surprised I’ve turned up here.’
    ‘So I can’t win?’ Walsh threw his hands in the air. ‘It hasn’t done any harm, has it? You’ve had a good look, and I’ve been easygoing about it, so now the least you can do is find out who’s responsible for harassing me. That’s a crime, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes, harassment is a crime, as is wasting police time and perhaps even perverting the course of justice. We’ll see how it goes.’ Goodhew turned and caught sight of a framed print on the wall beside the door. A man in a suit stood alone on the beach, his trousers rolled up to his knees and the surf splashing around his calves. ‘Robert Mitchum?’
    Walsh followed Goodhew’s gaze. ‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘but I’m not really a fan. I just liked the picture.’ He turned back to Goodhew. ‘So what can you do about these calls?’
    ‘Well, it’s obviously someone who knows where you live – and you do work at Dunwold Insurance, don’t you?’
    Again Walsh nodded.
    ‘Well, the caller knows where you live and work, so it is obviouslysomeone who knows you to some degree. Most likely someone you