Page 85 of Vengeance is Mine

‘Anyone else?’

‘No, love. Like I said, he kept himself to himself. He went to work; he came home. That was it. He put his bins out when he should, and he didn’t leave them at the edge of the road like some people around here.’

‘What about the night he was killed? The neighbours who did talk to us said they didn’t hear anything.’

‘They would do. Him that lives next door, Ray Fisher, now he might not have heard anything. He’s out almost every night and often comes back with a different woman. Dirty bugger. Her at number nine, she’s got three small kids by three different fathers. They’re only young, so they would have been in bed at the time he was killed. She must have heard something, and if she said she didn’t, she’s lying.’

‘Thank you,’ Kyra said, making a note in her pad.

‘Now, what was I doing on New Year’s Day?’ Milly smiled to herself. ‘Same thing as I do every night – sitting and watching TV. All I heard was the cars.’

‘Cars?’

‘Yes. Slamming doors. I was down here, watching Pride and Prejudice. You’ll be too young to remember Colin Firth as Mr Darcy, won’t you?’ Kyra shrugged. ‘Do yourself a favour and watch it. Best version I’ve ever seen. I like to watch it every now and then. It makes me smile. Anyway, I was watching that when I heard bam, bam, bam. Three car doors slamming shut. Then I heard tyres squealing. I got up and had a look through the crack in the curtains, just as a Peugeot 206 was turning left at the bottom of the road.’

‘You’re sure about the type of car?’

‘Definitely. I had one myself for years, until some bastard nicked it from the car park in the Metro Centre.’

‘You didn’t get the number-plate by any chance?’

‘No, love. It was dark, and I only saw it for a few seconds.’

‘Is there anything else you can remember? Anything leading up to him being killed?’

Milly thought for a moment. ‘Now you come to mention it, yes, there is. That car. The 206. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen it. It had driven up and down here a few times. I saw it just before New Year. It drove down here, slowly, and then turned left at the bottom.’

‘Do you know what day that was?’

‘No. I was… actually, I’m lying again. Hang on.’ Milly went over to the solid oak sideboard. She opened a drawer, took out a slimline Betty Boop diary and brought it back to the sofa. She licked her finger and flicked through the pages. ‘Here we are: Monday, the thirtieth of December, Christmas tea at Alice’s. A week late because she was in hospital from the fifteenth. She slipped on ice and bruised her coccyx.’

‘That was two nights before Mr Griffiths was killed. He was murdered on the night of the first.’

‘So he was.’

‘So the car was driving up and down on the night of the thirtieth, obviously checking to see if the coast was clear.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Where were you when you saw it?’

‘I was getting out of a taxi.’

‘Did the driver of the Peugeot see you?’

‘He must have done because the taxi was blocking the road.’

‘Did you see the driver?’ Kyra asked, almost daring to get excited.

‘No. It was dark. I was cold and just wanted to get in. Here, do you think they were going to kill him that night but saw me and decided not to?’

‘I’m not sure. It’s possible, I suppose.’

‘Oh, I don’t like that.’ She shivered.

‘No. Me neither,’ Kyra mused. ‘Thank you so much for agreeing to talk to me. You’ve been a big help.’ She stood up.

‘Have I? I haven’t told you anything though.’

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