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Dying Truth: A completely gripping crime thriller by Marsons, Angela (41)

Seventy

‘Okay, let’s see what Alistair Minton has to say,’ Kim said, tapping on the door to the physics lab. A quick call to Thorpe’s assistant, Nancy, had revealed his location.

Stepping into the room, Kim was again struck by the privileged surroundings. Less than twenty students were in the class and each had their own workstation, which reminded her of the layout of Masterchef. It was a far cry from the ten kids she’d been among all huddled around one Bunsen burner at her old school.

The white-coated teacher moved towards them, a questioning smile on her face.

‘Alistair Minton,’ Bryant asked as Kim looked around the room.

Her eyes fixed on a kid whose goggles were perched on his head like an aviator rather than covering his eyes. Kim was not surprised when he began walking towards them.

He removed the goggles, offered a smile and a hand.

Kim turned away and headed towards the corridor. No way was she shaking a hand that had tortured an animal that way.

Bryant closed the classroom door behind them.

* * *

Alistair ran a hand through his straw-blonde hair and leaned against the wall. She didn’t miss his quick up and down appraisal of her. He smiled lazily, revealing white, even teeth. There was a cockiness emanating from him that tickled the hairs on the back of her neck. The fact that police officers wanted to speak to him appeared to be a bit of a lark.

‘Alistair, we’d like to talk to you about the murder of Sadie Winters, do you know anything about it?’

‘I know she’s dead and that other little twerp too, what of it?’

‘You sound incredibly sorry about that,’ she observed.

‘Why would I be?’ he asked, simply.

‘We were wondering if there was anything you’d like to share with us?’ Kim asked.

He shook his head. ‘Not really kids I hang around with,’ he answered.

‘I’m not asking if you were in the same social circle,’ she snapped. ‘But you do like to hurt things, don’t you?’

Understanding shaped his features and then a smile. ‘Oh, this is about the cat, isn’t it? Straight out of the Psychology for Dummies book. Animal cruelty equals serial killer. Bloody hell, officer, give me a chance to finish school. Even I don’t know what I want to be yet.’

Kim resisted the urge to slap him.

He reminded her of her overfilled laundry basket at home, so full of items that it was misshapen, bulging. It was like he’d been stuffed to overflowing with good looks, a lean athletic body, excessive charm and charisma bursting out of his sixteen-year-old body. Once he emptied the basket and learned moderation, he’d be a dangerous individual.

‘Look, it was a mangy cat and I don’t get the fuss over it, but I’ve got no reason to hurt kids that mean nothing—’

‘It wasn’t a prank that went wrong that you then had to cover up…’

‘You can save that shit for the morons in the not-so-secret groups, officer. Not my bag.’

‘But you knew Sadie’s sister?’ Kim pushed.

He shrugged. ‘Not as well as I’d have liked but hey ho, you can’t win ’em all, eh?’ he said with a wink.

Kim simply stared at him for a few seconds.

‘Your charm didn’t work on her then?’ Bryant asked.

He smirked. ‘Would’ve done with a bit more time but the golden couple cock-blocked me.’

‘Sadie’s parents?’ Kim clarified. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard them referred to as such.

‘Yeah, well, Queen of Hearts and all that. They wanted their precious daughter spending time with someone more appropriate.’

‘Eric?’ Kim asked.

He rolled his eyes. ‘Yep, the good old King of Spades. Power couple.’

‘So, Laurence Winters managed to get rid of you before you got what you wanted?’ Kim asked, thinking it had been impeccably good judgement on the man’s behalf.

‘I was warned off, all right, but not by him. He’s a wimp. It was Hannah who did the deed. Now if you want to talk ruthless—’

He stopped speaking as her phone rang.

Eager to get away from this kid, Kim headed to the end of the corridor to take the call.

‘Hey Stace,’ she said, giving Bryant a nod to let him go back to class.

‘You’re not gonna believe what we’ve found,’ Stacey said, excitedly.

‘Go on.’

‘Not only were Laurence Winters and Anthony Coffee-Todd at Heathcrest at the same time. They were in the same year.’

Kim frowned. So why had Laurence Winters played down their acquaintance?

‘But even more interesting is that another of their classmates, Gordon Cordell, works at the Oakland Hospital in Stourport-on-Severn.

‘Stace, don’t tell me…’

‘Oh yeah,’ she said animatedly. ‘The man is a gynaecologist.’

‘Jesus,’ Kim said as her head spun.

‘Hang on, Kev wants a word,’ Stacey said, passing the phone.

‘Boss, I know it might not mean anything, but all three of them were in the Spades.’