AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He groaned internally as his phone signalled another call from the boss. He sure hoped life was going to return to normal soon, he thought as he pressed to answer.
FIFTY
‘Bryant, save me from doing something I know I’m going to regret,’ Kim said, tapping her phone on her knee as Bryant drove them towards the home of Lenny Baldwin. It seemed that the youth custody officer was the only person who could answer their questions.
‘Not sure I can do that, guv. Basis for a warrant for the Angels’ membership is a bit slim. We might not get it.’
She hadn’t told him what she was planning to do, but he knew her well enough to understand how much she wanted the information. And the lengths she was prepared to go to in getting it.
‘You don’t always have to tell me the truth, you know,’ she said, bringing her phone to life.
She scrolled to the number and jabbed it harshly, knowing that she had no other choice but that this was going to be painful.
‘What the hell have I done this time?’ Frost answered icily.
Kim closed her eyes as she said the words that were going to cause her physical pain. ‘Frost, I need your help.’
She opened her eyes again during the silence that followed.
‘What do you want now?’ Frost asked wearily.
Kim smiled at the response. Such was the nature of their relationship. Whether the reporter had disregarded their earlier spat out of curiosity about her imminent request she didn’t know, but the harsh words that occurred between them rarely left a lasting scar.
‘Black Country Angels. I need the names of their members.’
‘Go to their website and Facebook page. You’ll find them shouting loud and proud about their achievements. They’re not exactly shy.’
‘Most of them are aliases, and those aren’t the names I want. Anyone I’m interested in probably isn’t going to be screaming their vigilante ties from the rooftops.’
‘You think the killer is a vigilante?’ Frost asked.
Kim said nothing. Frost had the ability to search through any article written about the group past and present and dig out contacts and likely members. She probably had other sources beyond that too, but the less Kim knew about that the better.
Realising Kim wasn’t going to divulge anything further, Frost sighed heavily. ‘Okay, leave it with me.’
Kim ended the call, and Bryant chuckled.
‘What?’
‘Weird dynamic you two have. You’re like…I don’t know…fristers.’
‘What the bloody hell is a frister?’ Kim asked, aware that she hadn’t been made to sell her soul, eat shit or even sacrifice a body part for her earlier outburst. Oh, it could have been so much harder.
‘Well, neither one of you is ever going to admit to being friends. Normally only blood relatives, like siblings, can get away with what you two do to each other and then continue as though nothing ever happened.’
She grunted at him dismissively, but she supposed in a way he was right. She and Frost had had their moments over the years. There was a time when they’d saved each other’s lives while in the clutches of a madman hellbent on revenge. There was also a time that Frost had been in possession of a file containing every detail of Kim’s early life. Instead of reading and publishing it, she’d simply handed it back. On another occasion, she’d invited Frost to spend the night, just the one, in her guest bedroom, when she’d been injured while researching a story. But there was one time she remembered above all else. Frost had come to her home to offer support and advice on dealing with her complicated feelings after being beaten half to death by Symes.
Despite all this, the woman was still a raging pain in her ass, she thought as Bryant pulled the car into the kerb.
Lenny Baldwin lived in the Kingswinford end of Wall Heath. The street was lined with trees and small front gardens with driveways on every property.
The houses were semi-detached with adjoining single car garages. It wasn’t an area of great affluence, but there were far worse places to find yourself living in the Black Country.
She understood from Penn that Baldwin had recently retired from his role in the Youth Custody Service.
The man who answered the door looked every one of his sixty-seven years. The lines around his eyes were deep, and his skin tone was on the pasty side. He had a full head of completely white hair.
Bryant introduced them, and he stood aside for them to enter.
