‘De-stresses me,’ she said, following Kim’s gaze before her head snapped back, her eyes shining with fear.
‘Nothing’s happened to Tyra, has it?’
Kim shook her head. ‘No, we’re here on a totally separate matter.’
Relief flooded her features as she stood aside for them to enter. The front door led directly into a small lounge that appeared to be a second living area.
‘Where would you like to sit? Do you want coffee or?… I’m sorry, I don’t know how it works when the police visit your home late at night.’
It wasn’t quite eight, so it was hardly the middle of the night.
‘I’m afraid the matter is urgent and couldn’t wait until normal business hours, no coffee and right here will be fine,’ Kim said, taking a seat on a white leather sofa.
Bryant took the single seat and Kate sat cross-legged on the yoga mat. She reached for her phone, checked the screen and put it back down again.
Kim hadn’t really had a feeling one way or another when they’d met the other day. She hadn’t needed to form an opinion, but one was beginning to form now.
‘How may I help you?’
‘We understand you once represented Nicola Southall?’
She appeared to think for a few seconds. ‘Oh goodness, yes, I did but that was a few years ago now,’ she said, reaching for a bottle of water. ‘Why would you ask about Nicola?’
‘I’m afraid to say that Nicola was murdered earlier today,’ Kim said, feeling no need to soften the blow. This had been a business relationship and even that had been over for some time.
The woman paused mid-drink.
‘Not the body in the woods. That’s quite close to—’
‘Yes, that was Nicola, I’m afraid.’
Kate resumed her drink of water before screwing the top back on to the bottle.
‘Bloody hell, poor thing,’ she said as one would of someone they had met once in passing and then had never thought of again. Kim could see that in her mind there had been a profit and loss calculation; she was no threat to profit and so was no huge loss. She was not warming to the woman.
‘You represented her for some time?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I signed her when she was doing adverts. She looked good on the telly and was a reasonable actress, so I thought someone would snap her up, but I never guessed it’d be a national soap.’ She smiled as her eyes lit remembering the excitement. ‘They were good days. Magazine interviews, radio spots, photoshoots and an interview on BBC Breakfast. But…’ she opened her hands expressively.
‘It all went wrong when they changed her part?’ Kim asked.
‘Oh yeah, the story was fictional, but the hate was real. She was getting abuse online, spat at in the street and it got too much for her. I told her it would pass and that she could keep making the money, but she was too frightened by it all.’
More like she could have carried on and you could have carried on making the money, Kim thought.
‘So she retired?’
‘Slunk away is how I think of it. She just didn’t have the mettle to see it through. Wouldn’t go out alone, got her own protection and wouldn’t go for auditions; obviously, we had to part ways eventually.’
When the cash cow dried up, Kim thought.
‘But was there any direct threat to Nicola’s life?’
Kate frowned as she took another sip of water. ‘You think someone hated her enough to wait all this time?’
‘It’s something we have to consider. Death threats were made.’
‘Yeah, but they weren’t really serious. Keyboard warriors, most of them.’