Free Sudden Death by Phil Kurthausen

is her new best friend as of two weeks ago. You know how they are at that age.’
    Abby was nine and since the events of two years ago he had seen her only twice. The fact is he had no idea what it was like at that age.
    ‘Well, who is she, who are her parents, do you know them? Have they been, I dunno, CRB checked?’
    ‘Jesus, Erasmus, when did you become so suspicious? It’s a friend from school and she’s staying over to watch some silly movie, eat too much food and giggle a lot like little girls do!’ This time Miranda’s voice pitched upwards, this auditory escalation usually ended with one of them slamming the phone down. ‘Look, she’s growing up, she occasionally has to leave the house, meet other kids, it’s normal, Christ, in a couple of years she’ll be going out with boys, half of her class have boyfriends already, childhood’s speeded up since we were kids. You’re going to have to get used to it.’
    One thing he was sure of more than anything in the world, he wouldn’t be getting used to it anytime soon.
    With the word ‘boyfriends’ rattling around his brain like an escaped tiger he agreed to call back tomorrow.
    He grabbed his car keys and headed to Wayne’s place.
    The contrast between Erasmus apartment and Wayne’s house was stark. Wayne’s house was another level altogether. A level marked ‘How dare you drive down this road in that crappy car’ to be judged by the stares he had received from the private security guards parked at the entrance to the road in this exclusive part of Formby. The road ran down to the beach and was covered with a fine layer of red sand. Either side of it were mansions set back from the road. Wayne’s was the largest and last one on the road before it turned into a track leading down to the beach. The house seemed to be made mainly from glass and the bits of wall on show were brilliant white. It was, to Erasmus’s mind, more suited for Miami than Merseyside. Envy is not an attractive trait, he told himself.
    Erasmus pulled up outside and got out of his car. He hit the buzzer on the gate and a woman’s voice thick with a Scouse accent, answered.
    ‘Who is it, love?’
    ‘Erasmus Jones. I’m here to see Wayne.’
    ‘Never heard of yer.’
    ‘I’ve got an appointment with Wayne.’
    ‘You could be the fucking pope love but I’ve still never heard of yer.’
    ‘I’m his new
scorta
.’
    There was a pause and then a buzz. The gates started to open.
    ‘Park next to the Aston Martin will yer love.’
    Erasmus got back into his Golf and drove through the gates. Sure enough there was a royal blue Aston Martin with the number plate WJ EFC. Erasmus parked his car next to it, carefully opened his door and got out.
    The front door of the house was already open and a young woman in her late teens or early twenties was standing there. She looked like she was on her way out to an awards ceremony. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in blonde locks that looked fresh from a salon appointment, her skin was glowing and bronzed, and she was dressed in heels, a short skirt and a tight gold top that squeezed her tiny frame’s bosom into a painful looking cleavage.
    ‘Hi, I’m Erasmus.’ He offered his hand which she ignored. ‘Hope I haven’t caught you on your way out.’
    She pursed her lips.
    ‘As if I’d go out dressed like a dog’s dinner,’ she said. She stood with a hand on her hip waiting for a compliment. Erasmus didn’t oblige.
    ‘As I said, I’ve got an appointment to see Wayne. Is he in?’
    ‘Nah, he popped out but he’ll be back anytime now. I guess you better come in then. I’m Steph, by the way. Wayne’s better, much better, other half.’
    She wasn’t smiling but her eyes were twinkling with amusement. She turned and Erasmus followed her into the hallway. The hall was as big as Erasmus’s whole apartment and lined floor to ceiling in marble. A grand staircase flowed up and away from its centre. Steph led him through to a reception