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His face lit up – as did hers. They were always pleased to see each other. He bent down so he was a little nearer to her height, studying the beautiful blonde curls and blue eyes. Her appearance was always so fresh, and she was always so pleasant. He made sure that she, too, always ate the best of everything.
“Hello. How are you this morning?” he asked.
“I’m good,?
? she replied. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, darling.”
“You weren’t yesterday. You fell and dropped all your books.”
“I know. That was rather silly of me. You said so at the time. Remember?”
The girl laughed, revealing small white teeth. She had a beautiful smile; always had, ever since she’d been born.
“Yes. I called you a silly billy.”
Rydell laughed. “So you did.”
A sudden violent itch on the back of his leg distracted him again, to the point that he almost fell forward, on top of her. The girl moved backwards.
“It’s okay, just an itch.”
He scratched the area, but it didn’t make much difference. He stood up, ignoring the irritation, and checked if she was okay again. “Now, how about some breakfast for you?”
She recovered quickly at the mention of food. “Yes, please.”
“What would you like?”
The girl thought about it for a while. He didn’t mind; she could take as long as she liked. She was no bother to him. Never had been, despite the fact that he never usually entertained houseguests. She was different.
“I think you’d like a boiled egg with soldiers. Am I right?”
She jumped up and down. “Yes.”
“It’s always been your favourite.”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he said. “You go and find your seat at the table, Sam, and I’ll bring it through.”
She retreated back into the living room, leaving Rydell scratching the back of his leg.
Chapter Forty-three
Gardener glanced at his watch. It was approaching mid-day, and the whole team was flat out with inquiries relating to the deaths of Frank Fisher and Alan Sargent. They had CCTV to check, witness statements to trawl through. HOLMES had to be updated, as did the ANACAPA chart. The station was like a beehive, fast approaching meltdown.
As much as he hated to pull people from their already overburdened work schedule, there were important actions he needed setting in place before he and Reilly interviewed a very agitated Billy Morrison.
“Frank, Bob, I have another job for you two. I’d like you to go over to the clinic on Bond Street, speak to them about Alan Sargent, and ask if Frank Fisher was ever a patient there.”
Both men nodded and indicated they were on to it, once they’d finished a sandwich and a drink.
He glanced around the room, locating Colin Sharp. “Colin, I want everything you can muster on the Morrisons, please.”
“Both of them?”
“Yes, but concentrate more on Barry. I suspect he’ll have been the more adventurous one. Delve into his past. I don’t believe it’s possible for a man like him to operate without having upset someone big style. It may be small, it may be hidden, but it’ll be there, and you’re the best man for the job.”
