Sweet Things Dying - Chapter XIII

In which Cole tails an unexpected suspect to an unexpected place...

XIII

All along White Lion Street deep shadows gathered between the shallow pools of orange gaslight. Cole, a shadow within the shadows, stood halfway down the street near to the Thorne house. It was in darkness, its windows dull like dead eyes. Across the way the Bloom household was alive with lighted windows. But he knew it was a mask that concealed a home wrecked by sorrow. Tears and misery would fill its rooms. He felt sad for the family even if part of the responsibility for whatever had befallen Heather must be theirs to bear.

Wreaths and flowers withered with cold had piled up on the front steps. He’d wondered if neighbours and journalists and gawkers alike might surround the place, with a linked line of policemen to push them back, but respect reigned, and the family was left in peace.

He knocked at Tommy Thorne’s door. The hollow silence of an empty house was the only reply. Would she even talk to him, let alone say anything that might paint a clear picture of her husband? Certainly not if he were home. Her fear and obedience at Thorne’s hand were evident in the few seconds he’d glimpsed them together. But the man himself, with some careful questioning, might betray something if he could be persuaded to talk. While such men as Thorne might bully women well enough, they often crumbled under the might of other men.

When there was no answer, he moved back into the darkness and, despite the cold, decided to wait a while should somebody return. A cigarette between his lips, he struck a match, only to quickly shake it out as a door clicked and light spilled out into the street. A figure emerged – not from the Thorne house but from the Bloom place.