Letting out the Worms: Guilty or not? If not then the alternative is terrifying (Kitty Thomas Book 1 by Sue Nicholls (primary phonics .txt) 📕

Kitty sat back in her chair and sked Edouard, ‘Were there no witnesses to the event at all? What about staff at the restaurant, people in boats out at sea?’

‘Let us see what other documentation there is.’ Edouard pulled open a second folder and flicked through some pages. ‘According to this report, enquiries were made without success.’ She ran her eyes down the documents. ‘There were many character references regarding Monsieur et Madame Owen and some not so good ones about Monsieur Thomas.’

Sam said, ‘Do you have a copy of your interviews with Mr Rutherford, I mean Owen?’

Edouard shrugged, saying, ‘We only keep interviews of guilty parties. In case there is some requirement by the court. In this case, it seems that the tape was not requested.’

‘I’d say very little investigation was done by UK police into events here.’ Sam said. ‘I don’t know if you’re aware, but Owen-Rutherford was charged with his wife’s murder.’

Again, the officer shrugged. ‘I was not here at the time of this case. I do not remember it. It seems as if enquiries were made of the British police, and as Monsieur Thomas was already under investigation, suspected of the murder of another woman, they assumed he was the guilty one.’

There was nothing to be gained from telling this woman of their new witness.

In the foyer once more, they thanked the police officer for her help. A door opened on their right, and they glimpsed a row of empty cells. Kitty imagined her father in there, worried and frightened, and she determined to prove his innocence beyond any doubt.

44 KITTY

After another long but uneventful flight home the following day, Kitty returned to her flat. On the threshold, she sniffed the unfamiliar scent of polish. She was still getting used to her tidy living room and bright kitchen. It was la pleasure to fill her shiny kettle with water from gleaming taps. It made her feel grown up - in control. She dumped her suitcase in the bedroom and was heading for a cup of tea when her phone sang out.

‘Hi Dad.’

‘Hello. You’re back then?’ Paul’s voice conveyed deep gloom.

‘Just walked through the door.’ Her mind went to the taped interview and she thought how different her father sounded on the phone, more relaxed. Would he be so calm if he knew what she was up to? She put the thought from her mind and asked, ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Yeah. It’s fine.’ He sighed.

‘What is it? Want to get something off your chest?’

‘I’m OK. I’m fed up with this bloody wedding, that’s all. Cerys and Anwen can’t talk about anything else.’

Kitty chortled. ‘Just think of the food and drink afterwards, Pop. I suppose you need to get through the fuss and bother, to get to the bit that matters.’

‘The beer.’ Paul sounded brighter already.

‘Well eventually, but primarily, marrying the woman you love.’

‘Yeah, I suppose so.’

Kitty flipped on the kettle and opened the cupboard with one hand, struggling to extract a teabag. ‘What’s happened to get you so down in the dumps, anyway?’

‘They’ve bought the dress. Have you any idea how much a wedding dress costs?’ He tutted. ‘Then there’s Anwen’s outfit, shoes, jewellery, head thingies.’

‘Tiaras.’ Kitty poured water on her tea bag. ‘So, is it the money you’re worried about?’

‘Well no. I knew it would cost a packet, but the bloody dress is hanging in our room. Apparently, it’s bad luck for me to see it so I’ve been thrown out to sleep on the sofa.’

Kitty chuckled. ‘Poor Pop. Never mind, it’ll be over soon.’

‘Can’t be too soon for me.’ Paul changed the subject. ‘Where have you been, anyway? You keep disappearing.’

‘Just work. Yorkshire - in the sticks. There was no signal.’ She kicked off her shoes and wandered into the sitting room. ‘Did you need me?’

‘Cerys was asking for you. No idea why. She won’t tell me a thing. Long as I cough up the money, everything goes fine. Can you come over?’

The last thing Kitty wanted was to huddle up with Cerys making wedding plans. ‘Sorry Dad. I’m busy with work. Ask her to text me.’

‘OK.’

‘I’ll be seeing you soon, anyway. The big day is almost upon us. I promise to be there.’

‘I’m banking on it.’

Kitty hung up and finished making her tea and fell into a chair in the living room with her feet on the coffee table. Anwen would not approve, but her socked feet should not do too much harm. The best thing about coming home from a hot country was socks. So soft, worn in proper shoes that didn’t let in sand or stones. She snuggled back in the cushions, rested her mug on the arm and closed her eyes. The past couple of days had been intense.

Her phone rang, and she jerked awake; a surprise as she had not known she was asleep. She heard a thud, and the half full mug of tea dropped from the arm of the chair onto the carpet. Cursing to herself, she answered the call, while running for a towel from the bathroom. ‘Oh, hi Cerys, how are you?’ She dropped the towel on the brown puddle and pressed it with her feet. A warm, wet, coffee-coloured stain seeped up her socks.

‘Kitty, love, how are you? We were worried about you. I wish you’d keep in touch with your dad when you go away.’

Kitty frowned. Her dad never used to worry about her in this way. ‘Is there something I can help you with, Cerys?’

Cerys’s voice grew purposeful. ‘Two things: One, would you like to be one of my bridesmaids? Your dad would love it if you would, and I could get you a dress online almost instantly. I should have thought of it earlier,