Nine Lives, Anita Waller [best interesting books to read .txt] 📗

didn’t get on. Adam left without telling anyone he was going, and he hadn’t been back.

‘And you sleep here every night?’

‘I’ve been here for about three months. I’m not going back to hers.’ His defensiveness showed.

‘We’re not asking you to, pal,’ Sam said. ‘But there’s better places than this to sleep. You want us to look at getting you into a hostel?’

‘No, I’m fine here.’

‘Winter’s coming. The last three months were a picnic compared to the bad weather still to come before next April or May.’

Adam shrugged. ‘I’ll be fine. I sometimes earn a few quid, and then I eat.’

‘How do you earn a few quid? Drugs?’

He shook his head. ‘Not on your life. Don’t touch ’em. No, I busk. I earn a bit till I get moved on.’ He nodded towards the back corner of the garage. ‘That’s my guitar.’

Mike stood and walked over to the instrument. It was in the shadows, in its case. He opened it and looked at it. ‘Nice one.’

‘It is. My granddad bought it me a couple of years ago, just before he died. I brought a few clothes and that with me when I left. And twenty quid out of my mother’s purse. I got moved on quick today, so only got about a pound. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ Adam finished the last of his fries, and took a sip of the still-hot coffee. ‘This is good.’ He reached across and picked up the apple pie. ‘My mum used to make apple pie before she met the wanker.’

‘That what you call him?’

‘Not to his face. That’s his occupation. I left when nobody was in the house, because he’d hammered me the night before and I’m not big enough to tackle him. I had a black eye, and a massive red ear. Bruises all over. I decided next time he might kill me, so I was out of it. I’m okay in here.’ He looked around his garage. ‘I’ll have to try to find a padlock or summat for it, though, if coppers are going to come visiting.’ He smiled for the first time.

‘I might check on you occasionally,’ Sam said, ‘but you’re old enough to make your own decisions so we won’t hassle you. This is my card. Ring if you’re in trouble, or simply ring. Now, we need to talk to you about a car. As you’re in this area, you might see things we can’t see. We can’t be here all the time. This is a picture of the car we’ve been looking for.’ He held out the picture of the Fiesta and Adam looked at it while eating the scalding-hot apple pie. He handed back the picture.

‘No, sorry, I’ve not seen it, but I’ll look out for it.’

32

Adam froze in mid-bite. The two police officers had left him their apple pies so he had something to eat next morning, and he had saved the dregs of his coffee to slake his thirst, but he’d never had a visitor at seven in the morning before. This didn’t feel good.

‘It’s only me, Adam,’ Sam said. ‘You awake?’

Adam breathed a sigh of relief. His fear was that Wanker would track him down one day.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Having breakfast. Sorry I can’t offer you any.’

Sam laughed. ‘It’s a good job I called and got us a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea each then, isn’t it? Think you can manage one?’ He held up the carrier bag he was holding.

‘I’ll try.’ Adam grinned, and stuffed the final piece of apple pie into his mouth. ‘Your mate not here?’

‘No, we don’t start till eight this morning, worked late last night. I’ve brought you a couple of bits to make life easier for you while you’re here. If you do move to a flat or hostel or something, pass them on to somebody else.’

Adam bit into the bacon sandwich, his face lighting up. ‘God, this is good.’

Sam took a bite of his, and lowered himself to the sleeping bag. ‘You don’t cater for visitors, do you,’ he joked.

‘Don’t want visitors. I’m okay on my own. What you brought me?’

‘An old but serviceable garden chair, a rug to put under this,’ he said, patting the sleeping bag, ‘so it’s warmer at night, and a couple more blankets. Oh and a cooker.’

Adam blinked. ‘A cooker?’

‘Yes. We used to go camping, so I asked Mum if we’d any stuff left. I spent an hour sorting out the loft last night. Not only a cooker, I found a bag full of gas canisters in the shed, so try not to blow the garages up, yes? And Mum’s sent you some tins of soup, beans, that sort of stuff, some white candles, matches and a tin opener. And a plate and a dish. And a knife, fork and spoon. I’ve packed most of it into a big plastic box to stop it rotting, so you should be okay for a bit till you can earn some more with your guitar.’

‘Why? Why are you doing this?’

‘Because I can. You’re in need of help, it’s what I do in my job, and you’re not a run-of-the-mill yob who’s out to make a bob or two through the drugs route. And I felt uncomfortable leaving you here last night, especially when the rain started.’ He looked around. ‘Seems dry enough in here though. Has it been okay through all this bad weather?’

‘Yeah. No leaks. This car you’re looking for. They done something bad?’

‘Do you know about the five women who’ve been killed and left by the river over the past couple of weeks?’

‘Kind of. Seen it on newspaper headlines.’

‘It’s connected with that. We’re following all and any leads, so keep your eyes open. Don’t approach the driver, ring either me or Mike.’

They finished their breakfasts, and Sam stood to empty the car of the promised booty. When he’d finished he handed Adam a padlock. ‘I’ll keep one key,’ he said, ‘in case you become ill or anything, but I promise we’ll only