‘I hate this part.’
Barnes shoved his hands in his pockets and waited on the pavement while Kay retrieved her bag from the back seat of the car, and scuffed a discarded tennis ball back and forth under his shoe before aiming it at the base of a nearby privet hedge.
‘I know.’ She joined him beside an open metal gate and checked her phone was switched to silent mode, then looked at the pretty garden beyond. ‘Me too.’
‘Ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’
Her colleague squared his shoulders and strode towards the front door, rapping his knuckles against a glass panel at the top of it.
A man in his late sixties opened it within seconds, his bushy eyebrows knitted together and green eyes perplexed.
‘I’m not interested in buying anything, whoever you…’ He broke off as they held up their warrant cards for inspection. ‘Police?’
‘Detective Inspector Kay Hunter, and my colleague DS Ian Barnes. Are you Derek Thorngrove?’
‘Yes. What’s this about?’
‘May we come in, please?’
Perplexity turned to fear as the man stepped back and Kay entered a brightly painted hallway, noticing a vase of petunias on a small table underneath a mirror.
‘Who is it, Derek?’
‘Police.’ He pointed to a door behind Kay. ‘Best go through to the living room.’
When she entered the room, a woman raised herself from an armchair with the aid of an aluminium cane, her mousy hair streaked with grey and tousled.
‘What’s the matter?’ she demanded. ‘Is this about Dale?’
‘Please, Mrs Thorngrove, would you like to sit back down?’ said Kay. She positioned herself beside a radiator so she could face them both. ‘I’m very sorry to be the bearer of such terrible news, but we believe your son was killed in an incident on Wednesday night.’
A shocked pause followed her words, and then Derek lowered himself to the arm of his wife’s chair, his hands shaking as he reached out for hers. ‘Wednesday, you say? What’s taken you so long? Are you sure it’s Dale?’
‘I knew something was wrong,’ his wife wailed. She gulped as tears streamed over her cheeks. ‘I knew it. I tried to phone him yesterday but it went straight to voicemail. He never phoned me back. He always phones back.’
Derek wrapped an arm around her, burying his face in her hair as he wept. ‘My boy…’
Kay gave them a few more moments, crossed to the sofa and sat facing them. ‘All I’m able to tell you at the moment is that Dale was killed following an argument in a pub just north of Maidstone. He was shot.’
‘Oh my God.’ Derek wiped at his eyes, shuffling around to face her. ‘We heard about that on the news. Are you sure it’s him?’
She glanced down at her hands. ‘We were able to match his dental records earlier today. Yes, we’re sure it’s Dale.’
‘I want to see him.’
‘Sarah, love – they might not want us to.’
Kay took a deep breath. ‘It’s not a case of us not wanting you to, Mrs Thorngrove. It’s simply that we think in this instance that it could be traumatic, and that you may prefer to remember Dale…’
‘Y-you said he was shot.’ Sarah dabbed at her eyes. ‘Do you mean… in his face?’
‘I do, yes.’
Her words were met with renewed sobs.
‘We haven’t released any of those details to the media in order to maintain privacy for both yourselves and our investigation,’ she said. ‘Again, I’m so sorry.’
‘What can we do to help you find who murdered our son?’ Derek gave his wife a hug, kissed the top of her head, and then rose to his feet. He crossed to the sofa and sat beside Kay, turning to face her. ‘Tell me.’
She glanced at Barnes, standing by the door with his notebook ready, then back to Thorngrove’s father.
‘Are you aware of anyone who would want to cause your son harm? Has he mentioned anyone he’s been worried about in the past few weeks?’
‘No, he hasn’t mentioned anything to me.’
‘Nor me.’ Sarah sniffed, then rummaged in the drawer of a small oak table beside her armchair and pulled out a packet of tissues. She blew her nose, then peered at Kay through red-rimmed eyes. ‘And he never kept secrets from us. We were very close, especially after they decided to divorce.’
‘When was that?’
‘Six months ago,’ said Derek. He sighed. ‘He and Amy were only married for a couple of years.’
‘They never should’ve gone through with it,’ Sarah said, her mouth twisting into a moue. ‘I told him she was no good for him – and look where it got him.’
‘Do you still keep in touch with her?’
‘No. We didn’t take to her, and the feeling was mutual.’
‘What’s her full name?’ Barnes looked up from his notebook. ‘We’ll need to speak to her, just as part of our ongoing enquiries.’
‘Amy Evans. She still rents their old house in Snodland. Dale couldn’t wait to leave the place.’
‘We have an address in Walderslade for your son, is that correct?’ said Kay.
‘It is.’ The man’s father stood and crossed to a sideboard, reaching into a small blue and white ceramic dish before returning.
He held out a lone worn brass key on a leather fob with a shaking hand. ‘We never used this – he just wanted us to have it, for emergencies, he said.’
‘We ought to contact the letting agency,’ Sarah added, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. ‘They’ll be wanting to rent out the apartment again soon I expect.’
‘We’ll need to sort out all of his stuff first, love.’
Kay handed the key to Barnes before turning her attention back to the couple. ‘I assume you don’t mind if we take a look at Dale’s place?’
‘If it helps you find out who killed him, then no problem.’
‘Thank you. We’ll do that, and arrange to return the key to you as soon as possible. Are there any other family members we can contact for you?’
‘No,’ said Derek. ‘We have wonderful neighbours though, and there’s only Sarah’s aunt up in Glasgow to contact – although she hardly knows who we are these days, so…’
‘I’ll have one of our family liaison officers come over to provide you with whatever support you need,’ said Kay. ‘You won’t be alone going through this, I promise.’