Hard Going Read Online Free PDF Page A

poor teeth, and no-coloured hair, straight and dragged back tight to her skull into a ponytail. It was hard to tell if she was upset about her employer’s death. Her eyes were jittery and her expression was guarded, but even the most innocent of civilians could get a little nutty in the presence of the police. Who didn’t have secrets in their lives? It was one of the ways you could spot the professional criminal under questioning: they were too much at ease.
    Slider started her off with the easy stuff to get her loosened up – name, address, marital status. She lived in Acton Vale with her husband, had three grown children, one still at home. Her husband was a builder. Kroll – no, it was a Polish name. She had a flat, North London accent and tended towards the terse and monosyllabic, but whether that was habitual, or nerves, Slider couldn’t tell.
    â€˜How long have you worked for Mr Bygod?’ he asked.
    â€˜Ten years,’ she said with a shrug that meant ‘more or less’.
    â€˜And you’re his – housekeeper, you said?’
    â€˜I clean, do his laundry, cook sometimes.’
    â€˜You go in every day?’
    â€˜Not weekends. Eight thirty till two, Monday to Friday.’
    â€˜Is he married?’
    â€˜Ex wife. Before my time.’ She seemed to read something into the question and bristled slightly. ‘I’m his housekeeper, that’s all. I know nothing about his private life.’
    â€˜You seem to keep the house beautifully clean,’ Slider said soothingly.
    She shrugged again. ‘There’s not really enough work, but I stretch it out. He likes me to be there.’
    â€˜To answer the door for him,’ Slider suggested.
    â€˜When he’s out. If he’s in, he does it. With the entryphone. If it’s the postman or something, he sometimes asks me to go down.’
    â€˜He didn’t like the stairs?’
    â€˜He never went down to answer the door. He buzzed people up. Or not. Depending.’
    â€˜On what?’
    â€˜On whether he wanted to see them,’ she said witheringly.
    â€˜Did he go out much?’
    â€˜Sometimes. I don’t know what he did in the evening. I wasn’t there.’
    â€˜But he had visitors while you were there.’
    â€˜I didn’t say that,’ she objected.
    â€˜You said he buzzed people up.’ He spread his hands. ‘I’m not trying to catch you out, Mrs Kroll. I’m just trying to establish a pattern of who might have come to the house.’
    â€˜Yes, he had visitors. If you could call them that,’ she said with palpable disapproval.
    â€˜Why do you say that?’
    â€˜People came to him all the time for advice and help. Parasites.’ She sniffed. ‘Sucking the blood out of him.’
    â€˜Did he give them money?’
    â€˜No!’ she said scornfully. ‘Or not that I knew, anyway. But there’s such a thing as wearing a person to death. Everyone in trouble, everyone wanting something. Always at him. Never a bit of peace.’
    â€˜You were fond of him,’ Slider suggested.
    â€˜I worked for him,’ she said. ‘Fond doesn’t come into it. What do you want from me?’ She gave him a burning look.
    â€˜You said they were wearing him to death?’
    She met his eyes for a fraction of a second then looked away, as if she regretted having given so much. ‘Figure of speech.’
    â€˜Did you know any of them?’
    â€˜I never saw them, except in passing.’
    â€˜What did they look like?’
    â€˜Every sort. Old, young, rich, poor. Looked like right low-life, some of ’em. Wouldn’t be surprised if some of ’em hadn’t been inside – done time. I kept out of the way. I didn’t want to get sucked in.’ She sniffed again. ‘He didn’t seem to mind.’ She looked about, grabbed a tissue from the box on the table, and blew her nose thoroughly.
    Slider caught