‘Did we find Thorngrove’s car?’
Kay hurried after Barnes, flipping up her coat collar to counter the breeze tearing across a pitiful attempt at a landscaped garden that separated the pavement from the housing complex.
Discarded tin cans, chewing gum wrappers and more flipped back and forth in the wind, and she wrinkled her nose at the distinctive stench of dog shit.
A pitted asphalt footpath led from the car to the blocks of flats, a pale-coloured metal railing off to Kay’s right separating them from a ramp that led down to a row of garages that faced the residential buildings.
‘Not at the pub,’ he said, setting a brisk pace. ‘I’m hoping we find a key to one of those garages in the flat – he might’ve parked it in there.’
‘So we don’t know how he travelled from here to the White Hart.’
‘Not yet.’
A scruffy grass verge encroached upon the left-hand side of the path, and she noticed that some of the residents had arranged flower pots beside the communal front doors in an effort to add some colour to the otherwise bland masonry.
Barnes jerked his head towards the first block. ‘There are four apartments in each block. Looks like number nine is the third one along.’
He opened the main door for her, and they entered a cramped hallway with a scuffed tiled floor and bare cinder block walls.
‘Lovely decor,’ Kay murmured.
‘Stairs, or take the lift?’ said Barnes.
‘Stairs – it’s only one flight.’
She kept her hands in her pockets, wary of the greasy stains covering the laminated banisters, and led the way up. When she reached the top of the stairs, the landing angled around to the right with a fire exit door to her left.
The sound of something being dragged along the tiled floor echoed off the bare walls, and someone grunted under their breath.
As she rounded the corner, she saw a woman with her back to the two detectives, dragging a cardboard box towards the lift.
The door to Dale Thorngrove’s apartment was wide open.
‘Who are you?’
The woman jumped at Kay’s voice and spun around to face them, eyes wide open.
‘Who… who are you?’ she managed, pulling a cashmere cardigan around her waist, her expression turning from fright to guilt.
‘I asked first.’
‘Amy Evans. My husband––’
‘Ex-husband, or so we’re told.’ Kay flashed her warrant card, then walked over to where the woman stood and bent down, flipping open the top of the cardboard box.
It was full of books and bric-à-brac.
‘Care to explain why you’re removing this from Mr Thorngrove’s flat?’
‘It’s my stuff.’
‘Can you prove that?’
‘Ask him. He’ll tell you.’ Amy glared at Kay, and flicked her long brown hair over one shoulder. ‘When he left our house, he took some of my things with him. I want them back. Otherwise, the divorce will go through, and I’ll never see them again.’
‘Who gave you a key?’
‘What?’
‘Where’d you get a key from?’
‘I, um…’ The other woman blushed. ‘I took his spare, the first time I was here.’
‘You stole it?’
‘No! I just… borrowed it.’ Her eyes darted between Kay and Barnes. ‘I was going to give it back, honest.’
‘It’s a bit late for that,’ Barnes said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Dale Thorngrove was found dead on Wednesday night.’
‘Dead?’ Amy staggered in her heels and reached out for the wall to steady herself. ‘How?’
Kay gestured to the open door. ‘Shall we discuss this inside the flat? Away from the neighbours overhearing?’
‘I’m not lifting that again. It’s too bloody heavy.’
‘Let me.’ Barnes picked up the box and led the way into the flat, placing the collection of books and ornaments by the door as Kay closed it.
Amy stalked past him.
‘I left my bag in here,’ she muttered.
The narrow kitchen was functional, and remarkable in its ugliness.
Beige cupboards were fixed to the walls, crowding over shallow worktops with an electric hob at the far end while a stainless steel sink was off to the right under a window. Through the net curtains, Kay could see a shopping centre beyond the dual carriageway that carved its way past the housing estate, the traffic noise penetrating the double-glazed panes.
A single plate, cutlery and an upturned pint glass were on the draining board, while the cheap tiled flooring crunched under Kay’s shoes as her gaze scanned the room, crumbs scattered beside a well-used toaster and the lack of crockery suggesting that Dale Thorngrove might have had a tendency to walk around while eating breakfast.
‘When did you last see Dale?’ she said, turning to face Amy.
The woman slung a tan-coloured bag over her shoulder before running a hand along the worktop, tracing a path through the toast crumbs. ‘Monday. We had a meeting with our solicitors.’
Kay pursed her lips as she walked out of the kitchen and along the hallway into the living room.
The landlord had opted for beige here, too.
Thorngrove had done little more than add a pair of worn armchairs to the room facing a large television and a slim coffee table that was cluttered with remote controls.
Mismatched curtains hung at the window.
Sifting through a small pile of discarded envelopes and utility bills, Kay watched out of the corner of her eye as Amy appeared, her mouth downturned.
‘When did you last speak with your ex-husband?’ she asked.
‘Monday.’ The woman stood with her back to the window, arms crossed over her chest. ‘Then we sent each other a couple of text messages on Tuesday.’
‘What about?’
Amy shrugged. ‘Just some stuff to do with the divorce. I think he thought he could talk me out of it.’
‘Where were you on Wednesday night between eight and midnight?’
‘What?’
‘Answer the question, please.’
‘Do you think I killed him?’
‘Did you?’
‘Of course I bloody didn’t!’
‘Where were you?’
‘At home, having dinner with a couple of girlfriends who came round.’
‘We’ll need names and phone numbers.’
Amy rolled her eyes, then dug out her phone from her bag and recited the details for Barnes. She emitted a bitter snort when he thanked her. ‘I need to go – I told my boss I’d only be gone an hour.’
‘We’ll be in touch if we have further questions,’ said Kay, holding out her hand. ‘And I’ll have that key, thanks.’
‘Whatever.’
Amy flung it at her, then spun on her heel and flounced towards the door, ignoring the box.
Barnes waited until it slammed shut, then exhaled. ‘Well, wasn’t she a little ray of sunshine?’
‘Yeah, no love lost there.’ Kay dropped the bills back onto the table. ‘Can you ask Phillip to run her name through the system, just to make sure there aren’t any problems we ought to be aware of?’
‘Will do.’
‘Thanks. I hope the others are having more luck than us.’