Let the Dead Speak: A gripping new thriller. Jane Casey

bag. Left it in my car. I didn’t want her to worry about it so I carried it across the road for her. As soon as she opened the door I saw that something was wrong.’

      ‘What did you see that made you think that?’

      ‘You’ve been in the house,’ he said with a flash of anger. ‘What do you think I saw? Blood. A lot of it.’

      ‘How did you know what it was?’

      He shrugged. ‘What else could it have been? Ketchup? It looked like an abattoir in there. And my stomach went, I can tell you. I was heaving. I couldn’t even speak. It was like an instinct. I just knew.’

      ‘So what did you do?’

      He looked up at the ceiling, remembering. ‘I went in. I made myself go in, even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t realise the blood was dry at first. I thought maybe Kate was injured and needed help.’

      ‘Where did you go?’

      ‘Into the hall and then on a bit further, to check. I looked into the sitting room. I looked through to the kitchen and saw blood there but no body.’ He pulled at his lower lip, affecting to be shamefaced. ‘I put my hand on the counter in the kitchen, I’m pretty sure. I might have touched a few other places too.’

      ‘Did you go upstairs?’

      ‘Yeah. I think so. It’s all a bit of a blur. I mean, I’ve been upstairs in the house before, so if you find fingerprints of mine that doesn’t mean anything.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Mr Norris.’ I smiled at him, bland as cream. ‘We have excellent technicians. They’ll be able to tell if a fingerprint was made before, during or after the attack. So it’ll be easy enough to tell if you’re in the clear.’

      He swallowed once, convulsively.

       Not so confident now, are you?

      ‘What were you looking for, Mr Norris?’

      ‘A body. A killer.’ He laughed. ‘Glad I didn’t find either, really. That’s your job.’

      ‘Whose body did you expect to find?’

      ‘Kate’s. Who else?’ He looked at me as if I was stupid. ‘Chloe was there. She was fine.’

      So he didn’t think of Kate as a possible aggressor. I didn’t know enough about her to make that judgement.

      ‘Go back a bit for me,’ I said. ‘When was the last time you saw Kate Emery?’

      ‘I don’t know. During the week some time.’ He frowned. ‘I saw her on Friday evening, I think.’

      ‘Friday evening. Are you sure?’

      ‘No. That’s why I said I think it was Friday.’ He wasn’t bothering to try to charm me any more, which was a relief.

      ‘What was she doing?’

      ‘She was in her sitting room looking out of the window.’

      ‘You’re sure it was her.’

      ‘Yeah. I was walking past on the other side of the road and I waved.’

      ‘And you think this was Friday evening.’

      ‘I’m fairly sure. I know I was looking forward to getting home from work and having a cold beer to start the weekend, if my thieving brother had left any in the fridge.’

      ‘Your brother Morgan?’

      He nodded. ‘I only have one, thankfully.’

      ‘Does he live here?’ I asked.

      ‘He’s been staying with us for a while. Between jobs, apparently.’ Norris snorted. ‘No sign of him doing anything about getting one. He gave up a perfectly good job in an insurance company to go travelling for three years and got the shock of his life when he came home and no one wanted to employ him. Thank goodness he had us to fall back on.’

      ‘You don’t sound very happy about it,’ Georgia commented.

      ‘It’s been months,’ Norris said simply. ‘Too long.’

      ‘And you can’t kick him out? I would.’

      Norris flashed the teeth at her, instantly encouraged, trying to make friends again. ‘It wouldn’t be right. God has his reasons for sending him to live with us. Gareth says we have to pray for his soul, even if I’m sure it’s a lost cause.’

      ‘Gareth seems to be a big influence on you,’ I commented.

      ‘He’s the leader of our church.’

      ‘What church is that?’

      ‘The Church of the Modern Apostles. It’s an evangelical, charismatic church. Living Christianity. It’s a growing movement, you know. Gareth planted the church here in Putney five years ago and the congregation is increasing all the time.’

      ‘Including you and your family.’

      ‘I’m actually an elder of the church. For the last two years, it’s been my job.’

      ‘You mean Gareth is your boss?’

      He shook his head, smiling. ‘God is. But he directs me in his purposes through Gareth a lot of the time. You know, you should come along to see us worship. Share in God’s grace with us.’

      I smiled politely and referred to my notes. ‘So you think it was Friday when you saw Kate. What was she doing?’

      ‘Just standing in the window. Looking out.’

      ‘Waiting for someone?’

      ‘It’s a safe bet,’ Norris said evenly.

      ‘What does that mean?’

      ‘Chloe spends one week in six with her dad. When she was there or otherwise engaged, Kate sometimes had … visitors.’

      ‘What sort of visitors?’

      ‘Men.’

      I nodded as if I was unsurprised, as if I’d known about it already. And in fact I wasn’t all that surprised. She was a single mother, after all, and forty-two according to Una Burt. She was entitled to a private life, whatever the neighbours thought. ‘When you say men, did they visit her in groups or one at a time?’

      ‘One at a time, as far as I could tell.’ He gave a forced, awkward laugh. ‘I don’t think she was into anything as kinky as group sex, but you never know. It’s outside my experience.’

       No wonder you couldn’t wait to go round and fix her dripping tap.

      ‘Did you notice the same men visiting her more than once? The same cars?’

      ‘I didn’t notice.’ He pulled a face. ‘I didn’t like it. Dating is one thing but that sort of activity in front of everyone, in her own home – it felt sordid.’

      ‘Did you ever talk to her about it?’

      ‘I tried. I invited her to come to our church. I thought she might find what she was looking for there.’ He gave me a twitchy smile. ‘It didn’t go too well.’

      I flipped over a page on my clipboard with a snap. ‘Were you here all weekend, Mr Norris?’

      ‘Yeah. I did a lot of gardening.’ He held up his hands, which were scratched. ‘Some of the bushes fought back. Morgan helped me, he can tell you about it.’

      ‘What did you do with the clippings?’

      He frowned. ‘Took them to the dump. That’s what I was doing when I came back and saw Chloe at the station.’

      ‘I’m going to need your car keys and permission to search your car.’

      ‘I don’t see why. I mean, I don’t think that’s appropriate.’