The Killer Next Door by Alex Marwood

Formby.
    The man looks up, jumps and claps a hand over his heart. ‘Jesus!’
    He’s instinctively raised his courier bag in front of his chest like a shield, lowers it as his eyes focus on Hossein. He glances from him to Collette and back again. ‘My God,’ he says, ‘you nearly gave me a heart attack.’
    ‘Sorry,’ says Hossein. He doesn’t sound particularly sorry.
    ‘Hot, isn’t it?’ The man’s eyes run up and down her, like Hossein’s before them. Differently, though. His spectacles glint with a gleeful sort of curiosity. ‘Visitor, Hossein?’
    ‘No,’ says Hossein. ‘This is Collette.’
    She looks over at him. That’s not madly helpful, is it? ‘I – I live here, actually,’ she adds.
    The eyes glint behind the specs. A likely story, they say.
    ‘Nikki’s room. I’ve taken over Nikki’s room, I just moved in today.’
    The man’s face clouds with doubt. ‘Nobody said anything to
me
,’ he says.
    Were they meant to? She tries again. ‘The Landlord let it to me. Roy Preece? This morning?’
    This seems to be the password, the Open Sesame. ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Well, sorry about that. You can’t be too careful.’
    He gives her one of those toothy smiles that looks like he’s practised it a lot, but doesn’t get too many opportunities to use it in real life. They’re not great teeth. Small and pointy and yellowed from lack of cosmetic care. ‘Thomas,’ he says.
    She realises the word is an introduction, shakes the hand he offers. ‘Hi, Thomas.’
    ‘Welcome to Beulah Grove. I live upstairs.’ He points upwards, in case she is in any doubt as to where it might be.
    ‘In the attic,’ says Hossein.
    ‘Oh, right,’ she says. ‘I didn’t know there was an attic flat.’
    ‘It’s a Tardis,’ says Thomas. ‘I keep thinking I’m going to stumble across a secret portal to another dimension. How are you?’ he asks Hossein.
    ‘I’m okay,’ says Hossein. ‘But I’m afraid poor Vesta’s been burgled.’
    Thomas drops his courier bag on to the carpet. ‘No!’
    Hossein nods solemnly.
    ‘Christ! I knew it. I knew it would happen. It’s that girl. I swear she doesn’t understand how a door works. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve just found it hanging open. Oh, poor Vesta.’
    ‘It wasn’t the front door,’ says Hossein. ‘Whoever it was came in through the garden.’
    Thomas seems to simply tune this out. He turns to Collette and puts a hand on her upper arm. Instinctively, she goes to pull back. It’s overfamiliar, this touch. Grabby. ‘You need to make sure you keep your door locked, even when you just go to the loo, young lady. Especially living in
that
room. Easy access from the street, you see. Opportunists. They can be in and out in a minute. Poor Vesta.’
    ‘I don’t think it was opportunists,’ says Hossein. ‘It looks as if…’
    ‘You can’t be too careful,’ Thomas continues, as if Hossein hadn’t spoken. Hossein looks irritable, then forces a look of patience on to his face. He’s clearly used to this man talking without listening. ‘I don’t even like leaving my windows open, when I go out. Even on the top floor.’
    She slides her arm out from his clutch, steps back towards the sanctuary of her door. ‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’
    ‘Seriously,’ says Thomas. ‘I wouldn’t even go to sleep with your window open, if it was me. Someone could easily…’
    ‘Yes, thanks,’ she snaps. ‘I feel
much
safer now.’
    ‘Well, I’m just
saying
. I mean, I don’t suppose Vesta…’
    She’s got the door open. ‘Yes, thank you.’
    He starts walking towards her, as though he’s assumed that the open door is some sort of invitation. ‘Why don’t I…’
    ‘Yes, maybe some other time,’ she says. Hossein meets her eyes behind her back, and winks. He’s biting his lower lip, and his eyes shine with merriment. Ah, the house bore, she thinks.
    ‘It’s no problem,’ continues Thomas. ‘It won’t take a