Snarl by Celina Grace Read Free Book Online

colour, dark blue, perhaps?”
    “Can you remember the make of car?” asked Olbeck.
    Mary Frank frowned again, biting her lip. She was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember anything more about it,” she burst out. Tears shone in her eyes. “Do you really think it might – might have had something to do with – with—”
    “I can’t say, Mrs Frank, I’m sorry. We’ll have a look at the local CCTV for that night. What night was it, can you remember exactly?”
    This time Mary shut her eyes. She clenched her hands together, pressing her fingers against one another until the knuckles went white. “It was the Tuesday... that’s right... the Tuesday before it happened. Michael was late coming to bed because he’d had a call from his brother that went on for a while. They don’t speak often.” She tripped herself up over the tense she’d used and gulped. “I mean, they didn’t speak often, so when Paul rings, they chat for a long time. That’s right, I looked at the clock when Michael came up and it was past eleven o’clock. He twitched the bedroom window curtain as he walked past it and that’s when he mentioned the car. I had a quick look but I couldn’t see much. Whoever it was drove off just after I looked out of the window.”
    Kate was scribbling quickly in her notebook. She didn’t imagine there were many cameras in Polton Winter, if any, but it would be worth a try to see if anything had been picked up.
    “Thank you, Mrs Frank,” Olbeck said, putting a great deal of warmth into his voice. “That’s really helpful. If you can remember anything else that might help, you will let us know, won’t you?”
    Mary Frank nodded fervently. She looked better than she had at any point since they arrived , but still, even as they said goodbye on the doorstep, Kate didn’t want to leave her. She made a point of mentioning Victim Support again as they took their leave and made sure Mary had her business card.
    “Poor woman,” she said to Olbeck as they drove away.
    “Yes, indeed.”
    They were both silent for a moment. Kate watched the sun-dappled beech woods roll past the windows of the car. She remembered Mary Frank’s compulsive pulling of her thumbs as she sat in her chair and realised her own hand was creeping towards her back, almost stealthily. She put it back in her lap with an exclamation of annoyance and Olbeck looked over, surprised, but didn’t say anything.
    *
    Stuart walked behind the group of protestors, far enough back so that they wouldn’t realise he was there, close enough to get a good look at them. They were heading for one of few the pubs in the area that would serve them; Stuart had seen a handwritten sign on the door of one of the other nearby pubs that had said ‘No Protestors’. He was determined that this would be the opening he was looking for.
    The pub was a dive – sticky carpet, yellowed wallpaper, stench of old cigarettes embedded in the fabric of the seats. Stuart waited until the small group of protestors had been served, got his own pint and sat down unobtrusively in a corner, ostensibly reading the tabloid newspaper that had conveniently been left at the table, but really taking a closer look at the people he was tailing. He was looking for the weak spot, the one who would let him in.
    There were two women and three men in the group. Stuart focused on the women – it was almost always easier to strike up a conversation with a woman. The two he was watching were both young, both quite pretty under the crazy dyed hair and facial piercings and crappy clothes. Which one? He chose the smaller, slighter one, the one who laughed a lot, looking up at the men in the group with a face that was slightly too eager.
    Stuart waited until the girl of his choice made her way to the loo. He waited until she re-emerged and, seemingly on his way to the bar again, gently bumped into her.
    “Oh, sorry!” she said in a surprised tone, even though it was technically