He turned to Kaminksi.
“How did you get here before us, sergeant? We were supposed to phone you telling you the
address?”
“What do you mean?”
The policeman was somewhat warmer but still far from friendly.
“Luigi phoned us and then the killer broke through the
door, so he cut the call. So we phoned
triple zero and told them what Luigi had said.
And said we’d phone them from here so we could tell them his address.”
“You mean you’d never been here?” Kaminski’s lips curled in disbelief.
“Of course we’ve been here. But we’ve never sent him a letter here. Why would we?
We have his mobile number?”
“Have you phoned him?”
“Jesus, do I look that stupid? Of course not! What if he still somehow has his phone and
the killer hears it ring?”
Kaminski’s lips tightened but he said nothing.
“I’d better phone them and tell them not to come,”
Jason offered.
“Yeah.”
Kaminski wasn’t giving anything away.
Keith leaned over to Esmé and whispered in her
ear. “Do they become arseholes after
they join the police or are they just that way naturally?”
Esmé didn’t think it would be a good idea to grin, so
she just took his hand and squeezed it.
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