Read Online The Coldest Blood by Jim Kelly - Free Book Online Page B

when I got home, I’d been down the bowls club. He was off then. Didn’t believe she was seventy-one, she said. Said she could run a marathon.’ Buster nodded, looking at them both. ‘Bit of a tosser, really.’
    ‘Did he visit Declan too? Next door?’
    Buster’s eyes were wary now, sensing that something was wrong but unable to guess what to hide. ‘After us. I heard him knock anyway and he didn’t walk back past the door for an hour – maybe more.’
    ‘This was the night he died, wasn’t it?’ said Dryden.
    ‘I didn’t tell the police,’ said Buster, one step ahead now. He raised a hand to his forehead. ‘I just didn’t think.’
    ‘Don’t worry. I can pass it on if you like…’ offered Dryden. Buster pushed his teeth forward in a smile. ‘What was he like – the doctor? Not your own GP then?’
    ‘I only saw him for a minute, like – he’d done with her, and he said he had to finish his appointments. Bit odd, really. No tie or anything. But smart. About fifty, perhaps not. My age, everyone looks young. She said he had very strong ’ands, when he massaged her neck and that. Medium height – pretty solid. Don’t expect that, do you? Our one’s a streak of piss.’
    ‘How about his face?’ asked Dryden, knowing the police would press for more, even if they had already filed Declan McIlroy’s death firmly under suicide.
    Buster pursed his lips. ‘Sorry, she had the TV on by then – Countdown , we never miss. Mousy hair? Dunno. Short, I think; shortish, anyway.’ He clicked his fingers. ‘She said he had lovely blue eyes, silly cow. He had a black bag too, and a clipboard.’
    ‘And he just knocked, Mr Timms?’ asked Vee, aware that the purpose of their visit had shifted. ‘No preparatory call? We insist on that,’ she added, looking to Dryden.
    ‘Nah. She heard this noise from the landing, someone going past… Bastard was halfway to Declan’s flat so she got him back, said we were needy. He said he’d planned to do us next but she told him we didn’t answer the door after dark.’
    ‘So this was what? Five, six?’
    ‘Yeah. We watch the repeat of Countdown – so that’s got to be after 5.15 yup?’ Suddenly Buster looked less sure. ‘Or did we give it a miss that day?’
    Dryden struggled to contain his frustration. Why was itthat in the real world witnesses could hardly confirm their own names, let alone recall telling details about someone else?
    ‘Perhaps your wife would remember more about this doctor?’
    Buster laughed. ‘Doubt it, mate. Eyes,’ he said, tapping his temples with both index fingers. ‘Can’t see a thing up close – she saw his when he had a look in hers with one of those light things.’
    He slurped the rest of his tea. ‘There was one thing,’ he added, pushing his hands out to catch the feeble warmth from the fire. ‘He went to the loo just before he left so I peeked in the bag. Guess what?’
    Vee and Dryden shook their heads, shocked by Buster’s casual dishonesty.
    ‘I only had a sec. There was pills and stuff, and the kit – like for blood pressure. But there was a bottle too. Whisky. Unopened.’

10
    Buster made a second pot of tea when Vee left, and they refilled their mugs before going out on to the balcony. The cat made figures-of-eight around Buster’s ankles as he fished the keys out of his dressing-gown pocket and let himself into Declan’s flat. There were several tea-crates in the front room, one of them full of crockery and glasses shrouded in old newspapers, and the taint of rancid grease had been scoured from the kitchen.
    ‘The sister did all this?’ asked Dryden.
    ‘I helped. Missus made her a hot drink. You got to help, but it’s amazin’ how she gets about.’
    ‘You mean even though she’s blind?’
    ‘Right. Makes you realize how lucky we are,’ said Buster, and Dryden could see that it hadn’t, not until now. The old man looked around the flat. ‘We should have helped more. But like I said, he wanted his