Читать книгу A Devil Under the Skin - Anya Lipska, Anya Lipska - Страница 18

Eleven

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While Janusz was quizzing Father Pietruski at St Stanislaus, Kershaw was back home in her flat on the blower to her cousin Jason in Special Branch for the second time that day.

‘Any joy?’ she asked.

‘Yep. It’s actually one of the easier things you’ve asked for.’

Kershaw had called Jason right after she’d left Kiszka, to see if he could get hold of the passenger manifest for flight AM47 to Alicante, the one Steve had booked himself and Kasia onto. Jason wasn’t supposed to run checks without signed documentation, of course, but since she was godmother – and occasional babysitter – to his two increasingly boisterous boys, he’d been happy to do her the favour.

‘You won’t get into any trouble, will you?’ she asked.

‘Nah. We’re always asking the airlines for stuff like that. Anyway, the girl there fancies me.’

‘Who can blame her?’

‘Exactly.’

‘So, were they on the flight or what?’

‘Nope. They were both marked down as no-shows.’

She felt a little buzz of excitement. Kiszka had been right about one thing: Steve and his wife hadn’t boarded the flight. ‘Thanks, Jason. I appreciate it.’

‘No worries. When are you coming over anyway? The boys would love to see their Auntie Nat – and Kirsty was saying the other day we haven’t seen you in ages.’

Together with Jason’s mum, her Auntie Carol, they were the only family Kershaw had left and yet it must be a year at least, she realised, since she’d been out to Billericay to visit. Since the shooting – in fact, even since she got stabbed – she’d become a bit of a hermit, her life distilling down to a cycle of work, drink, sleep: her only social life the occasional after-work drink or visit to the gym.

Before hanging up, she promised Jason that once spring finally arrived, she’d come out for a family barbecue.

Kershaw reached for the last bottle of Argentinian Malbec in the rack, before switching the kettle on instead – she needed a clear head to think things through. Obviously, it was still a major leap from a missed flight to believing that Steve was holed up somewhere, holding Kasia against her will, but she wondered whether she should just play it safe and report Kasia Fisher missing to Walthamstow CID. Coming from her, they might be persuaded to take it seriously. But by the time the kettle had boiled she’d concluded that it would still sit in someone’s inbox for days before any action would be taken. Meanwhile, she was sitting around on her arse with her brain on standby.

She decided there was only one sensible course of action: do the initial spadework herself, and if she found any solid leads on Kasia’s whereabouts, hand the case over to her old boss, DS ‘Streaky’ Bacon. Congratulating herself on having made the right decision, she opened the cupboard and awarded herself a chocolate biscuit.

A Devil Under the Skin

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