nothing away, but his blood chilled, Clara, his girlfriend worked at the Blue Rose. She’d been working there last night.
“I know it,” he said quietly. “Have you searched Ramona’s flat?”
“Of course. We’ve been over it with a fine toothcomb, it’s clean. Find out what you can. I want you to report only to me, we’ll meet at the Fitzroy Tavern on a Friday, when it’s busy, the artists bar downstairs, six tonight. I’ll have your money for you next time we meet. Any questions?” Nick shook his head.
“Just so you’re clear, I don’t trust you. We’ll be watching.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” replied Nick, standing and moving to the door.
“Oh, one more thing.”
“What?” Nick paused with his palm on the door handle.
“The body had been searched, but they missed this,” Carruthers held out a small tattered piece of paper, eyes narrowed. Nick took it. His stomach lurched. Scrawled on it in barely legible writing was Nick’s address. He nonchalantly stuffed the note in his pocket.
“Any idea why she had that?”
“None at all.”
“Of course. We’ll be watching,” Carruthers flashed that thin-lipped insincere smile.
Nick nodded. He headed out the door, feeling Carruthers’ eyes on his back. He needed fresh air, needed it now. A prickling sensation of dread was already rising like nauseating bile, bitter in his dry mouth. The handwriting on the note was his own.
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