The drive back to her house was in silence, Steph slowly inhaling one of her cigarettes. I pulled the car into the driveway just as she butted it out.
“You want to come in?” she asked, but I shook my head.
“I can’t. I have to go see someone.”
“Ah, yes. Tami Kennedy by any chance?” I was a little surprised.
“What? How the hell do you know already?” I said.
“Small town, Jim.”
“Of course. Geez, I knew it would get around, but that fast?”
“You want me to call you a taxi?”
“No, it’s OK. Think I want to walk. Clear my head a bit.” She laughed as we got out.
“Drop by around 10? We can go through our stuff then.” I nodded as I handed her the keys and bid her farewell, walking slowly along her tree-lined street. Thoughts were running crazy inside my head, memories of victims, the smells, the stresses. All the emotions I had forgotten about had returned in a never-ending rush since that first phone call. And now here I was, back in the same place, hunting for another killer. Or maybe even the same one.
9.
After showering, shaving and finishing all the other normal bathroom rituals, I sat on my bed reading over my notes while waiting for the time to reach 7.30. I had been steadily jotting down bits and pieces ever since we left my home a couple of days before, and the small notepad I always kept in my pocket was beginning to fill at a steady pace. There were bits about the people we’ve spoken to; Clancy and George Bester, Lightman himself, and of course Rademeyer. The victims, their addresses, things I noticed at the crime scenes. The times the coroner believed death had occurred, as well as how they died, although that was probably as clear to you as it was to me. I just couldn’t work out how they didn’t struggle. How there were no defensive wounds on any of them as if they simply had extended their hands out to him and allowed themselves to be tied up. Last time, all the victims had been spread out around Cider Hill and Daylesford, as well as a couple in the surrounding areas. This time, so far at least, they had all been in Cider Hill, and all within a couple of miles of each other. Two of the victims worked together in the same school as teachers. I ran the notes through my head and kept returning to the fingers. I just couldn’t work out why. And neither could anyone twenty years ago.
I was still running this through my head when I noticed the time, 7.20. I decided to head down in case she finished early. I grabbed my jacket and headed out, locking the door behind me. There are some things that city folk will never change.
As I stepped out through the door of the pub, my heart fluttered a little as I saw her standing out on the footpath, leaning against the brick wall of the building. She smiled when she saw me, that same infectious grin I remembered. It lit her entire face up, like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Tami, hey,” I said, waving to her.
“Hi Jim.” I bent down and gave her cheek a light kiss and felt relief when she returned one on mine.
“Did you want to have dinner here?” I asked, pointing at the pub, but she shook her head.
“I work here, Jim, and people are already gossiping. The gossip I can’t help, but their prying eyes I can. You know the saying ‘A small town has big eyes and a matching mouth’” And with that, she took my hand, leading me around to a side street running next to the pub. It was a dark lane that had several small flats on either side. Tami stopped in front of one a couple of hundred yards up, opened the iron gate and waved me inside.
“Come on. I can fix us something tasty.”
10.
Her flat turned out to be a one-bedroom shoebox, a single fireplace in the kitchen the only heating available. It saddened me to see her living like this. Her living room, if you could call it that, had an old worn-out 2- seater sofa made from red vinyl. There was a coffee table that needed a good sanding down and very little else. A small bookshelf adorned one wall, photos filling most of the shelves except for half a dozen books on the top one. To my surprise, I found one of them to be mine. I’m still not sure why, but seeing it, gave me a burst of embarrassment. I think I may have even blushed a little.
“Chops OK?” she asked, sticking her head around the corner as I put my book back on the shelf.
“Chops are perfect,” I said, turning and walking into her kitchen. Tami excused herself for a moment and headed out into the hallway. I could hear her tinkering around in the bathroom, then returned, having replaced her work uniform with pants and jumper, as well as Ugg boots on her feet.
“How have you been?” she asked as she began juggling pots and pans, peeling vegetables and throwing food this way and that. She always had a way in the kitchen, one that I could never compete with.
“I’ve been alright. How about you? How is your dad?” I replied, trying to stay out of her way, a task quite difficult, given the size of the room.
“Dad passed away a few years ago now. The cancer got him.”
“Oh Tami, I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” I said, my cheeks flushing with colour again.
“Thank you, but that’s OK,” she said, her smile
