Page 109 of 36 Hours

Looking towards one of the photos, the rage in his eyes caused her to question his reasons for keeping the photos around. Were they a focus for vengeance? He had lost his family through their unwillingness to be linked to someone notorious. Was there a chance he wanted to make sure they would never be able to escape the stigma of being connected to a killer?

He turned those cold eyes back to her.

‘So now you know I’m a nobody with nothing, what else do you want to know?’

‘Your reasons for being in that litter-picking group.’

‘Against the law, is it?’

‘Just doesn’t fit if I’m honest,’ she said.

‘Just cos I don’t like coppers or them two,’ he said, nodding towards the photo, ‘doesn’t mean I hate everybody.’

She waited.

He rolled his eyes. ‘Jesus, do you want my soul? I had to do some community service after jail time. Litter-picking. I didn’t mind it. Felt like I was doing something useful.’

Listening to what he wasn’t saying, Kim got it. He was lonely. He’d lost everything: his profession, his family, his pride and likely most of his friends.

Volunteering at least gave him contact with other people.

‘Do you own a small Citroën van?’ Kim asked.

‘Used to,’ he said, frowning.

‘Until when?’

He shrugged. ‘About six months ago. Why do you wanna know?’

Not a question Kim was going to answer at this point.

‘You got rid of it?’

He nodded.

‘How?’

‘Scrapped it.’

‘Where?’

‘Some tatters yard in Brierley Hill.’

‘Which one?’ Kim asked. She knew them all.

‘Tompkins, I think.’

It had only been six months. Surely it wasn’t that hard to remember?

‘Yeah, yeah, Tompkins just off the high street.’

‘That’s Dickie Tompkins’s place, the one just past the waterfront?’

‘Yeah, that’s the one, over by the waterfront,’ he said, repeating her words.

‘You’re sure about that?’ Kim checked.

‘Yeah, that was the one. It failed the MOT, and I couldn’t be arsed to spend good money on it.’