Page 83 of Killing Mind
‘Not bad,’ Kim said, as Bryant parked in front of a detached house on the outskirts of Kingswinford.
If this was Eric Leland’s home, they were not looking at his criminal activities as a result of an underprivileged childhood.
A silver Lexus sat on the gravelled, low-maintenance drive.
Kim knocked the door that was answered immediately.
The woman was in her late forties with a blunt fringe bob. Her face was fully made-up and she was dressed in a powder pink skirt suit. The heels were not something Kim would have attempted to walk in, in a million years.
‘Mrs Leland?’ Kim asked.
‘Yes,’ she said, reaching for an oversize handbag.
‘Is Eric home?’
‘No, I’m afraid he’s not. Who wants him?’
They both held up their ID at the same time.
‘May we come in?’ Kim asked.
‘Of course, but Eric isn’t here right now.’
‘When might he be back?’
‘Officer, my son is twenty-seven years old. He really doesn’t give me details of his plans.’
‘Well, may we speak to you for a moment? Maybe he’ll turn up while we chat.’
‘No, he… umm… let me just make a call. I’m due in early for a meeting.’
‘Thank you,’ Kim said, entering the room she pointed to while she headed away, her phone in her hand.
Kim instantly felt out of place in the room furnished in varying shades of white, everything was focussed or pointed towards a piano that stood before the window.
Framed photographs of a handsome man, Mrs Leland and a young boy at varying ages stared back at her.
‘Okay, meeting delayed,’ Mrs Leland said entering the room. ‘We all like to think we’re indispensable, don’t we?’
Kim said nothing and the woman followed her gaze.
‘Henry, my late husband, was a pianist.’
‘Sorry for your loss, Mrs Leland,’ Bryant offered.
‘Martha, please, and it’s almost six months now but thank you anyway.’
‘May I ask how he…’
‘Massive stroke. Died instantly. He didn’t suffer, thank goodness; now how may I help you?’ she asked, tucking her skirt behind her legs as she sat.
‘Ideally, we’d like to speak to Eric.’
‘Unfortunately, that’s not possible so you’ll have to make do with me.’
The words were not unpleasant but they were final.
‘Mrs Leland, have you ever heard of a place called Unity Farm?’
