‘Are you going in again tomorrow? Stupid question. There won’t be much let up for you this weekend, I suppose.’
‘More than likely.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ve got little choice. If I want to get on top of it. Can’t afford to miss anything at this stage.’
‘Fancy a drink or anything stronger?’ she said as she unlocked the front door.
‘A cup of tea will do fine. I want a clear head in the morning. Don’t suppose I shall sleep much. Never can when I’m on a case. So if you hear me pacing the floor you know why.’
‘It used to get Bill like that.’
Beazy was waiting for them in the kitchen. Waiting impatiently by the back door. Tail and ears twitching. He didn’t use a cat flap. He was too big for one anyway. She let him out into the back yard. She hadn’t done so earlier. The fireworks would have frightened him. Guy Fawkes night was a `No Go` outing for him as well. He would soon be back in looking for food before bed.
‘That cat is a Goliath,’ Kent watched him stroll over the lawns in a leisurely fashion. His furry bulk just distinguishable in the dusk and then spotlighted for a moment or so by the security light on the patio. ‘He must frighten away all the other cats in your neighbourhood.’
‘Yep. He’s a good watch cat too. He sees off all strangers. You’re highly privileged. He wouldn’t let just anyone in that he doesn’t know. He’d fight them tooth and claw.’ She grinned. ‘He tried to claw the gasman who wanted to read the meter one day. I think he’d do it to the mailman too. Given half a chance,’ she said as she made the tea. ‘He chews up all the rubbish mail and the bills. I’ve got him well trained.’
‘Certainly sounds like it. Say are you still hungry. Viviane? Those hot dogs weren’t that filling for me. Fancy an omelette? That is you have any eggs going spare?’
‘Yes, please. I didn’t cook anything earlier as Simon wasn’t coming in. So if you want to cook it. You most certainly can. I thought you were feeling tired though.’
‘I am. But cooking is good stimulation for my little grey cells, as Hercule Poirot might say. And you can’t go to bed with an empty tummy.’ He grinned. ‘I haven’t eaten properly all day. I missed my fish and chips quota earlier.’
‘I envy you, Jon,’ she said as she ate the golden fluffy omelette filled with cheese and tomato. ‘This is heavenly. You’ve missed your vocation. You could have been a chef at the Ritz. Mrs Frost at the White Rock could do with someone like you. And to top it all you don’t seem to put on an atom of weight no matter what you eat. It’s not fair,’ she protested.
He laughed. ‘I must say I like cooking for someone who really appreciates a good meal. Julie was on her way to being a Vegan. Worried about her weight all the time. Thank God you’ve got more sense.’
‘So do I, worry about my weight.’ She patted her tummy. ‘So don’t tempt me too much. But just the same you can cook a meal like that for me anytime.’
Oh dear. What am I saying? I’m leaving myself wide open, aren’t I? I mustn’t sound like a woman who needs a man. This man in particular. She frowned and carried on eating. And he smiled back at her.
‘Oh, don’t worry, Viviane. I’m not going to make you forget your good resolutions. And if this should worry you I shan’t overstep our friendly relationship. I shan’t have time to do this often while on this case. But I’ve enjoyed this evening we’ve spent together. Although it was partly business. You helped to make it enjoyable for me as well.’
She picked up the empty plates. ‘Thank you, kind sir. I hope that perhaps the presence of the police amongst the crowds saved the evening. It must have stopped the parents of young girls there from being anxious. Seeing the boys in blue mixing in. It was a good move for your part to arrange that.’
He leant back in his chair. ‘Can I hear that cat of yours demanding to come in?’
‘Yes. He knows when it’s his bedtime. And mine.’ She carried plates over to the sink and opened the back door. ‘Come in.’ Beazy strolled in nonchalantly. And stopped in his tracks to glare at Jon. His eyes like burnished amber traffic lights.
‘Right.’ He got up. ‘I think that’s my cue to go. Forthwith.’
‘Thanks for the supper. And for escorting me this evening. I really enjoyed myself.’
He leant over the stairs and wished her, ‘Goodnight.’
‘Night, Jon. Get some sleep. Forget the case.’
That was another stupid remark to make. Two in one evening. Damn! Damn! Viviane lay awake thinking it over. He must be worried about the case. Although he’d hidden it as well as he could. But she’d been a policeman’s wife. She knew the signs. What was behind the motives for the killings? None of it seemed to make much sense so far. She tried to assemble the clues in her mind. Two girls who had never met but were connected by death and the method of killing the same. It had to be a random choice by the killer. But was it? And would the killings stop now?