Chapter Fourteen
At ten thirty-five on Tuesday morning, Carl and Harry walked into the office of Bayside Auto to interview Kurt Viking.
‘Kurt Viking?’ said Carl, feeling somewhat surprised that the solidly built man standing in the office was the man Kathleen French had described as someone who couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag.
‘Are you the police?’ said Kurt. ‘You look like coppers.’
‘Inspector West,’ said Carl, holding out his ID. ‘This is Detective Sergeant Fuller.’
Kurt crossed his arms on his chest. ‘So, who killed the b***h?’
Carl had to stop himself from stepping back. ‘We don’t know yet.’
‘Well, don’t go getting any ideas it was me,’ said Kurt. ‘I didn’t do it.’
Kurt’s loud denial made little difference to Carl. Far too many women were killed by people they kne
