‘Rhianna, ger away from the fucking door,’ called a female voice.
Bryant stepped forward, moving the child out of his way. Kim stepped around her and closed the door.
‘Excuse me,’ Bryant called as they stood in the dingy corridor. ‘Police ... can we ...’
‘What the hell ...’ they heard amidst a commotion of activity.
‘Already smelled it,’ Kim called, walking past Bryant into the lounge. The curtains were closed but didn’t quite meet in the middle.
A girl with hoop earrings and a pasty expression stood and wafted the air with her hands. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of weed.
‘What the fuck yer doin in ‘ere? Yo ‘ain't got no right ...’
‘Rhianna invited us in,’ Kim said, almost tripping over a rocker holding a newborn. ‘We’re here to see Brian Harris.’
‘It’s me dad. He’s abed.’
It was after eleven thirty.
‘So, you’re Melanie’s sister?’ Bryant asked.
‘Who?’ she asked, with a sneer.
Kim heard a door open down the corridor. A half-dressed male headed towards them, raging. ‘What the fuckin’ hell yo doin?’
‘Mr Harris,’ Bryant said, affably, standing in front of her. He held up his warrant card and introduced them both. ‘We’re just here to talk to you about Melanie.’
He stopped short and frowned.
Kim was beginning to think they were at the wrong address. But Melanie had clearly inherited her height from her father. He stood over six feet tall. Every one of his ribs was evident and the waistband of his jeans rested around his skinny hips. His scrawny arms were busy with DIY tattoos.
‘What’s the little bitch done now?’ he said, looking over the back of the sofa. Kim followed his gaze. A dark brown Staffordshire bull terrier lay panting in a cage meant for a large Yorkie. Its teats were distended and red. A cardboard box next to the cage held four puppies snuggled close together. Kim couldn’t tell if the eyes on the puppies were yet open but they’d been removed from the bitch for a reason.
A puppy separated from its mother too soon would suffer behavioural problems later on; problems that could be exploited as a status symbol for The Deltas.
Kim looked into the eyes of the older dog who would be bred again at the earliest opportunity.
She looked at Bryant whose gaze also rested on the dogs. They exchanged a glance.
‘Whatever that girl’s done is fuck all to do with me. I gid ‘er away years ago.’
The baby beneath them started to cry.
The female sat down and placed her right foot on the back of the rocker. She took out a iPhone and began texting with one hand.
Brian Harris sat beside his daughter. He nudged her, hard.
‘Put kettle on, Tina.’
‘Do it yerself, yer lazy bastard.’
‘Do it or sling yer hook and tek yer damn kids with yer.’
Tina offered him a filthy look but headed into the kitchen. Rhianna followed closely behind.
Harris leaned forward and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke all over the baby’s head.
Bryant forced calm into his voice as he took a seat on the sofa opposite. Kim remained standing.