‘Why?’
‘I think the beer and wine glass emojis might be a clue.’
‘Guv, I am really trying not to find this situation amusing,’ Bryant admitted.
‘And failing miserably,’ she said, tapping out a response.
‘What did you say?’
‘Mind your own bloody business,’ she said, getting out of the car. He was enjoying her predicament far too much for her to keep him fully updated.
The reality was she was receiving more messages than she was sharing with Bryant and responding to them too, all because she didn’t know how to tell the woman the truth.
She’d think about that later, she resolved as they walked up the path towards what looked like a crack house.
The door was opened before they even reached it.
‘You raiding?’ asked a guy in his early twenties, wearing only boxer shorts.
Kim shook her head and produced her identification. He didn’t even look at it.
‘Sallright,’ he shouted over his shoulder.
‘Pippa Jacobs live here?’
‘Should think so – it’s her place,’ the guy said before calling over his shoulder again. ‘Pip, some coppers are here.’
She heard a rustling of movement from the space behind.
He rolled his eyes as he called backwards again. ‘They ain’t raiding – I already told you once.’
‘May we come in?’ Kim asked.
‘It’s not my place,’ he said, indicating he wasn’t going to move out of the way.
If they were raiding, there were no prizes for guessing what they’d find. The natural police officer in her wanted to storm in and arrest every drug taker in her way, but this wasn’t her area and it wasn’t her problem to solve. The police clearly knew about it as this woman was the third name on the list – she must have interacted with the CID team.
‘Where’s the usuals then?’ the man asked, looking them up and down.
‘Get raided a lot, do you?’ Bryant asked.
‘Pretty regular. Weekly.’
Kim was prevented from asking the obvious question as a woman appeared behind him. Kim guessed her to be late twenties with a five-year margin either way. Her gaunt frame and prominent cheekbones signalled she was a user. But it was more than that. There was a deadness in her eyes that Kim rarely saw.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, stepping in front of the man who’d opened the door. ‘All right, Chase, go back in.’
He looked directly at Bryant. ‘Nah, I’ll hang around.’
‘I’m good. Bugger off,’ she said, nudging him aside.
After a final dark look at Bryant, Chase turned and left the hallway.
Bryant cast Kim a questioning glance. She didn’t know what was going on either, but there was a hint of nausea rising in her stomach.
‘You get raided much?’ Kim asked, repeating her question now that Chase was gone.
‘Plenty. What’s it to you?’