‘I will,’ she said, placing the card on one of the side tables.
Kim headed for the door with a feeling of unease that she hadn’t had when she’d walked in.
ELEVEN
Symes shovelled a heaped tablespoon of cereal into his mouth and chewed noisily. He really had fallen on his feet here – a comfy bed, hot showers and a great choice of food in the cupboard. When he’d seen the surveillance equipment being fitted to the bitch’s house last night, he had considered finding another Edna somewhere else, but it was a decent set-up, and being four doors down from the bitch, he was confident the camera on the front of the house was aimed at her front garden gate. Yeah, she was a copper, but she still couldn’t record the comings and goings of the whole fucking street. Nah, just down the street was the last place they were gonna look for him, and Edna was looking after him just fine.
‘Got any bacon?’ he called across the room.
The elderly woman offered no response. The gag in her mouth prevented her from speaking, and the rope binding her wrists to the chair prevented her from moving. Admittedly, it wasn’t a very ladylike position for a woman of her years, but he didn’t really care. Clearly, she had soiled herself between him strapping her to the chair last night and him waking up this morning.
The bruise on the side of her face was prominent where he’d given her a good thump to knock her out. It really hadn’t been that hard, but he guessed old people bruised easily. Never mind. It had given him time to secure her to the chair and gag her with a pair of her own knickers. While she was unconscious, he’d fixed himself a sandwich and taken a good look around the house.
Initially, he’d planned to use the place as a one-night-only kind of deal. A bit like a Travelodge: check in, eat, sleep, shower, renew energy, kill the homeowner and fuck off. But as he’d walked through the home closing curtains, he’d noticed only one bed upstairs and a distinct lack of family photos. Only one old picture of what he assumed was her wedding day was evident on her bedside table. He’d realised he may be able to hole up here for longer than he’d thought.
He carried his cereal into the middle of the room and shovelled another spoonful into his mouth as he kicked her foot.
‘Oi, wake up.’
Her head came up and her eyes widened with terror.
He stepped away, out of the stench of piss.
‘You got anyone coming today?’
She remained still except for the trembling that had overtaken her body.
It always amazed him how vulnerability came at the beginning and end of life with no clue at the woman she’d been in between. Had this frail woman once been formidable, direct, ambitious, spirited? His own maternal grandmother had been a total bitch. Every relative and neighbour had been terrified of her. Nobody fucked with Biddy Evans. He hadn’t seen her for years until he’d heard she’d suffered a massive stroke which had robbed her of her speech and mobility. He’d visited her in the home to see for himself. The rumours were true, and she’d been unable to react when he’d spent the entire visit pinching her and causing her pain. It had been a good visit.
He sighed heavily.
‘Lady, if you play dumb, this is not gonna end well for you.’
It was a given that it wasn’t anyway, but he liked his victims to cling to one shred of hope. It made his life easier if they thought being helpful would earn them an escape.
She shook her head slowly.
‘Good, it’s just us then,’ he said before emptying the contents of the bowl into his mouth.
‘So, you got any fucking bacon?’
She shook her head.
He sighed and stepped away. A decent bacon sandwich had been on his wish list for years, but it was good to know he didn’t have to rush.
The plan for Stone had been formed long ago. He wasn’t going to deviate from it, however desperate he was to feel his fist pounding against her flesh. If he could pull it off, it would exert maximum pain in more ways than one. There were things to put in place first, and the timing of snatching the bitch had to be just right. He’d know exactly when that was, he thought, wandering into the pokey kitchen, because if he just moved the curtain a fraction and stood on tiptoe, he had a perfectly good view of the bitch’s front door.
TWELVE
The home of Zachary and Gavin Daynes wasn’t what she’d been expecting.
Their flat was located on the top floor of a small development on Timbertree Estate, built where the estate pub of the same name had once stood.
Kim turned in her seat as Leanne undid her seat belt. ‘Not this time. These are grieving family members. You can keep watch from here.’
Kim readied herself for an argument that she was perfectly happy to have. It was one thing intruding on her life, but these people had lost most of their family.
‘Feel free to report me to Woody.’