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‘Grab a car, go and do a follow-up, and we’ll chat later.’
‘On it, boss,’ Stacey said before ending the call.
Kim returned to stand beside her colleague.
‘Can you imagine managing this lot?’ Bryant asked, looking at all the vans parked side by side. From the livery she could see there were builders, drainage firms, electricians and plumbers. All different contractors with different priorities, different rules, different bosses. Bringing it all together was no mean feat, and the person responsible was striding towards them.
At around five feet seven, Lisa moved with confidence around machinery, holes in the ground and stacked piles of materials. Her auburn hair was tied back beneath a yellow hard hat with the word ‘Boss’ written in marker pen on the front. An orange high-vis vest covered a black T-shirt and jeans.
She pushed the gate open, stepped out and closed it again before speaking.
‘If there’s been another noise complaint, we’ve made sure that no machinery is being operated before—’
‘We’re not from the council,’ Kim said as both she and Bryant produced their IDs.
Lisa looked at them. ‘You know, even though I know I’ve done nothing wrong, my mind is replaying the events of my day so far just to make sure.’
Kim understood. Sometimes they were like a moving conscience.
The woman looked back to the site and frowned. ‘How can I help?’
‘Not connected to your work,’ Kim reassured her, moving around the side of the building as the excavator started up again.
The woman followed, looking even more confused. She removed her hard hat to reveal a red line that stretched across her forehead.
‘You were at an event the other night, a psychic reading?’
Her eyes filled with amusement. ‘Oh Jesus, Catherine didn’t kill the psychic, did she?’
Kim and Bryant exchanged a glance but said nothing.
‘I saw that. Wh…what’s happened?’
‘Psychic Sandy was murdered in a graveyard last night.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Lisa said, reaching for the wall behind and leaning against it. ‘You say she’s dead?’
‘Very,’ Kim confirmed.
She shook her head a few times. ‘You don’t think…’
‘The psychic party on Thursday was her final working engagement, so we’re collating accounts from the last people to spend time with her.’
‘She was fine, that I recall. She was a bit sheepish when she spilled red wine on Catherine’s new rug. Catherine tried to laugh it off, but it was hollow if you know what I mean. Sandy offered to pay for professional cleaning, but I don’t think Catherine could properly relax after that.’
Her gaze moved off into the distance. ‘Sorry, I’m still trying to process that the woman is dead. I mean, to me she seemed fine. But Betts has known her for a while.’
‘Catherine mentioned Betts’s husband turning up. Some kind of miscommunication between the two of them.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Lisa said, rolling her eyes.
Kim waited.
‘The only miscommunication between those two is Betts not yet having found the courage to tell him he’s an insufferable, misogynistic, controlling arsehole.’
‘And you know this how?’
‘Officer, have you ever spent time with someone who tells you what’s going on more by what they don’t say than what they do?’
