Smiling, she took the bowl with one hand and held out two painkillers with the other. ‘Rest. Take a night off. The case will still be there tomorrow.’

Manolis gulped down the small white pills, then half a glass of water. They exchanged silent smiles. He thought about his wife, and also Kerr’s former fiancé. He felt decidedly awkward lying in the same bed where the man would’ve once laid, and wearing what he assumed were his old clothes. The room was sparsely decorated with not a single photo of cherished loved ones. Manolis initially found this strange but on reflection understood why a person might’ve chosen not to be reminded of their past, particularly if it was racked with heartache and pain. He finally said a reluctant, ‘Okay.’

Kerr held a gentle finger to her lips to silence him. She smiled her snaggletooth smile and softly closed the door behind her. The rushing sound of the shower was soon heard across the hall. Kerr came across as an old soul; Manolis liked that.

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

MANOLIS PROMPTLY FELL asleep in Kerr’s achingly comfortable bed. But his slumber was brief, his sore ribs donkey kicking him out of unconsciousness every time he rolled over. He heard the midnight fireworks again, closer now, only several streets away. Another shipment had arrived.

In the morning, the light through the curtains was thin, aquatic, the house several degrees cooler. Sitting up in bed, Manolis felt a dark and medieval pain muscle through his body. He rubbed his sleep-stained eyes, waited a beat, then gently rose to his full height, stretching every angry sinew.

After changing back into his own clothes, which had been magically washed and dried overnight, he went searching for his colleague and host. He overheard her on the other side of a bedroom door, speaking gently. Manolis didn’t want to intrude; he only wanted to give his thanks and bid her adieu until the station. In the end, he nudged the door open. Through the crack, he saw Kerr with her arm around her shrunken, blanketed mother, sitting up in bed, stroking her grey hair and gently asking, ‘Do you remember?’ over and over. Her mother’s eyes were closed, and she was breathing deeply. Kerr looked over, acknowledged Manolis through the gap. The detective nodded and quietly let himself out.

He walked to the station, the movement in his arms and legs making him feel instantly better. Breathing deeply, he filled his lungs with fresh country air. As usual, the day was inexorable, cloudless, the mercury cocked and ready to soar. The streets were empty, a great hush having fallen over the town. Manolis pictured Ida Jones with her cricket stump on her way to steal her morning paper. He thought about Rex and needing to explain why he was now walking and not driving.