Page 28 of Twisted Lies
Kim guessed the woman to be early forties. Her short, dark hair had a purple hue that matched her nail varnish.
Loud voices suddenly sounded from the rear of the house.
‘Kill each other quietly,’ she called over her shoulder, stepping out of the house and pulling the door behind her.
‘Twin boys, thirteen, and every day I don’t kill ’em is a bonus.’
‘Similar in age to the boys next door?’ Kim asked.
‘Sorry, who are you?’ she asked pointedly, folding her arms. Clearly not prepared to say another word until they’d identified themselves.
They both offered their warrant cards.
‘Bloody hell, I only phoned the landlord out of courtesy. I didn’t expect—’
Her words were cut short as the door swung open behind her.
‘Mum, Kieran’s hogging the Xbox and won’t—’
‘If you boys don’t let me have an adult conversation for ten minutes, you’ll lose the game system for a week. Go do the maths on that one,’ she said as the boy retreated and closed the door.
‘Can you tell I’m a stay-at-home mum?’
Kim couldn’t help the smile that played on her lips. It was a parenting style she appreciated.
The woman held out her hand. ‘Rachel Carson, feral kid wrangler and resident snoop.’
Kim returned the handshake briefly, hoping they’d fallen lucky here.
‘You said you’d called the landlord?’ Kim asked.
‘Not long after you left with that other woman, a grey Transit van turned up. Two guys got out and started loading stuff in. Diane was bringing out bags, then the other woman came back with the boys, and twenty minutes later they were gone. I called the landlord in case they were doing some kind of flit to avoid paying the rent, but he said they were all up-to-date, that he was on his way back from Lanzarote and would swing by tomorrow to check for damage. Didn’t seem too fussed, so I cracked on with the ironing.’
‘And the landlord is…?’
‘Stephen Jenner from Wilson Fairbanks Limited, and his number is…’
Bryant took out his notepad and took it down as a thought occurred to her.
The women were of similar age and they both had two boys. She was surprised they weren’t sharing a glass of wine over the back fence every night.
‘You weren’t friends then?’
You didn’t call the landlord on your mates.
Rachel shook her head. ‘Not for the want of trying.’
‘Go on,’ Kim said.
‘Family moved in five years ago, only about a year after we did. I’ll be honest and say I was excited when I saw they had two boys.’ She looked left and right. ‘No other kids here, so I had visions of barbecues over the fence, kids playing together. My own two were missing their old mates in Leicester, but I was soon disabused of that notion.’
Kim listened, allowing the woman to just speak.
‘I knocked on the door the day after they moved in, just to introduce myself. She gave me her name and that was pretty much it. I asked her round for coffee, but she said she had too much to do so I left it. A few days later I saw the three of them, mum and boys, in the street. I tried again to engage her, tried to speak to the boys, but she answered for them. I never heard them speak once. It was as though she was scared they were going to say something wrong. Of course, that could purely be the outlandish musings of a woman spending too much time at home with her kids.’
Or maybe not, Kim thought.
‘I saw her in the back garden once. We were both hanging out our washing. I made some kind of lame joke. She smiled tightly and went back inside. Two days later, they had six-foot fence panels delivered, and her husband spent the weekend putting them in.’
