Kissing the Demons Read Online Free PDF

‘Anyway, we’re recovering from the party.’ She looked at Matt. ‘Some of us have got hangovers. So are you here for the pleasure of our company or . . . ?’
    Cassidy’s face suddenly became solemn. ‘Actually, guys, I’m thinking of selling the place. Recession and all that. In fact I’m expecting a mate of mine any moment. I told him about the place a while ago and he’s keen to take it on. He’s an estate agent and he’s going to give it the once over. Sorry and all that but you’ll be moving on soon anyway, won’t you?’
    It was true that they were all fixed up with somewhere else in the next academic year. Matt had arranged to share with someone on his course, Caro was moving in with a friend and Pet was moving into a flat in her tutor’s house with another music student. As for Jason . . . Matt wasn’t sure.
    Matt was about to say that number thirteen hadn’t been a happy house but the words seemed a little silly and sentimental. To men like Cassidy houses didn’t have characters of their own – they were machines to produce income.
    â€˜This really isn’t on,’ said Caro. ‘You should have made an appointment.’
    â€˜It’s the only time Ethan’s free. I promise you won’t even know we’re here.’
    â€˜It’s still not acceptable . . .’
    But before Cassidy could say anything more the doorbell rang.
    â€˜That’ll be Ethan.’ Cassidy gave Caro a nervous smile. Matt suspected that he was a little scared of her. She had that effect on some people.
    When Cassidy hurried out to answer the door, Caro turned to Matt, a scowl on her face. ‘Bloody cheek. We could complain, you know.’
    Matt sighed. ‘I don’t suppose it’ll affect us.’
    â€˜It will if he has queues of people traipsing through the place while we’re trying to revise. We’ll have to be firm. By appointment only. I’d better see what Cassidy’s up to.’
    But at that moment Cassidy appeared on the threshold. Another man stood behind him; he was average height and slightly built with short dark hair and a long thin face, the sort that doesn’t stand out in a crowd. He was around the same age as Cassidy, but unlike the landlord, he wore a smart grey suit.
    â€˜This is my mate, Ethan McNeil. I don’t think you’ve met.’
    Matt nodded to the newcomer.
    â€˜Mind if he looks round in here?’
    The question was rhetorical. McNeil stepped into the room, his grey eyes taking in every feature. He said nothing but made notes on a clipboard he was holding. Matt noticed that his handwriting was small and neat as his cheap ballpoint pen moved fast across the paper.
    â€˜Seen anything of your neighbour recently?’ Cassidy asked this question every time he visited. When they’d first moved in he’d said he’d been trying to persuade Mr Quillan to sell him the house next door. But now he planned to dispose of number thirteen Matt wondered why his interest was continuing.
    â€˜We’re on nodding terms but we hardly have neighbourly chats over the garden fence. Why are you so interested if you’re selling this place?’
    â€˜Next door’s in good nick – might be a sound investment if I can get it at the right price.’
    So Cassidy was after a bargain. Ever the businessman. Or maybe there was something else behind his desire to get rid of the place.
    It was eight o’clock and as Joe crossed the bridge over the river the crowds were out in force; locals making for the bus stops after a Saturday afternoon spent shopping and tourists who walked at a slower pace taking in Eborby’s sights and sounds. He passed an Italian restaurant and the wafting scent of warm garlic reminded him that he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten since one when he and Emily had grabbed a couple of sandwiches and now he promised