Page 71 of Silent Scream
‘So, come on, hit me with it. What’s the gut saying?’
‘What was our initial theory?’
‘That Teresa Wyatt was murdered because of a personal grudge.’
‘And then?’
‘After the murder of Tom Curtis we surmised that it is someone connected to Crestwood.’
‘The death of Mary Andrews?’
‘Didn’t really alter our thinking.’
‘The discovery of a body in the ground?’
‘Leads us to believe that someone is trying to eliminate people involved in crimes that happened ten years ago.’
‘So, to summarise, it is our theory that the person who killed our young girl is the person who is murdering the staff so they don’t get caught for their original crime?’
‘Of course,’ Bryant said, emphatically.
And therein lay the disparity in her gut. ‘I think it was Einstein who said, if the facts don’t fit the theory, change the facts.’
‘Huh?’
‘The person who murdered our buried victim was measured and methodical. They managed to kill and dispose of at least one body without being caught. They left no clues and would have remained undetected, if not for the tenacity of Professor Milton.
‘Fast forward to Tom Curtis. The job was done with the alcohol but that wasn’t enough. There was a message loud and clear that this man deserved to die.’
Bryant swallowed. ‘Guv, don’t tell me your gut is saying what I think it’s saying?’
‘And what is that?’
‘That we’re looking for more than one killer?’
Kim took a sip of her latte. ‘What I think, Bryant, is that we’re going to need a bigger plate.’
Thirty-Six
‘Areyou sure this is where she said?’ Kim asked.
‘Yep, this is the place; The Bull and Bladder. Famous for being the second pub along the Delph Run.’
The Delph Run was a collection of six pubs that were scattered the length of the Delph Road. The Corn Exchange kicked off the stretch at Quarry Bank and it ended with The Bell in Amblecote. It had become a rite of passage for groups of males and more recently, females, to work their way from one end to the other, consuming as much alcohol as their young bodies could contain.
No self-respecting man over the age of eighteen within a two-mile radius would admit to not having conquered the Delph Run.
Bryant had knocked on the door at the home of Arthur Connop to be informed by his indifferent wife where her husband could be found.
The Bull and Bladder was a triple-windowed building furnished with mahogany wood and a mustard-coloured exterior.
‘At eleven thirty?’ Kim asked. To her it looked like a place where you wiped your feet on the way out.
The outer door led into a small, dark corridor with choices. To the immediate left was the snug. Along the same wall were doorways to the toilets. The doors matched the dark wood on the windows outside and made the small space claustrophobic.
The stench of ale was worse than most crime scenes Kim had ever attended.
Bryant opened the door to the bar on the right. The room was not much lighter than the corridor.
