‘Kim’s definitely got issues with her family,’ said Gibbs. ‘Dead grandmother included. She gave me a long list of bad presents they’ve all given her over the years.’

‘Bad presents?’ The words made Simon’s skin prickle. He couldn’t have said why. ‘Like a little white book with hardly any words in it?’

‘No. Keep up, Waterhouse! Someone else gave her that: a man she didn’t recognise, not a relative. We’ll call him excellent suspect number five.’

‘Is the list of bad presents in your notes?’ Simon asked Gibbs. ‘I’d like to see it.’

Gibbs nodded. ‘Something else: Kim didn’t like thinking or talking about the man who gave her the book. She seemed to have an aversion to the memory.’

‘Did you ask her why?’ Sellers was barely intelligible through a mouthful of shepherd’s pie.

‘No. It felt like an important question – perhaps one to come at from a more sideways angle, a bit later on. I had a feeling she’d deny and clam up if I asked outright. Plus I was busy asking her other things – mainly about this Faith woman who might or might not be in danger.’

‘We need to get her details from the RGI, check she’s okay,’ said Sam.

‘Do we, Sergeant?’ Proust pounced on the suggestion. ‘Frankly, Kim Tribbeck’s story about Billy secretly watching at the hospital and taking it upon himself to nominate Kendell as Tribbeck’s best-friend-in-waiting—’

‘Kim didn’t present that as fact,’ Gibbs cut in. ‘It was a theory, to explain the “Death devours” book on the cancer ward noticeboard. She admitted it was far-fetched.’

‘We need a police artist sketch of this guy from Tribbeck’s gig,’ said Sellers.

‘I had another idea,’ said Gibbs. ‘I didn’t think Kim’d go for it and we can’t force her, but when I suggested it, she didn’t say no. I asked her if she’d revisit all the stops on her tour from early last year. I offered her a police driver. Me, if that’s what it takes. Though I was wondering if maybe …’ Gibbs looked at Simon.

‘Charlie?’ he said.

‘And she said yes?’ asked Sam. ‘Kim agreed?’

Gibbs nodded. ‘Eventually she agreed.’

Chapter 7

7

from Origami by Kim Tribbeck

He put on a specially reasonable tone to ask me. It sounded unnatural, as if he was straining to achieve it. And I was terrified.

It’s funny, the things that scare you.

I wanted to cry, or hide. I wanted to say, ‘No, no, impossible! I can’t go back to those places.’ Except it wasn’t impossible. It was practically and scientifically feasible. I had no good reason to refuse. No bad one either.