Lethal Profit Read Free Page B

note.
    â€˜Well, this is the same address. Are you sure they have the right person?’
    â€˜Yes, I think so. He’s English?’
    â€˜But, of course, that’s Shoon!’
    Eva stared at the woman nonplussed, wondering if she was as mad as her father.
    â€˜Yes, he’s the only English person for miles around. Yes, Shoon,’ she said again, saying the name so that it sounded nothing like Eva’s pronunciation – the English pronunciation.
    â€˜He lives at number nine – third floor, second door on the right. You’ll have to take the stairs, I’m afraid, as the lift is broken.’ She smiled apologetically and put her hands back on the old man’s shoulders, gently drawing him back to the flat. ‘Nice to meet you.’
    â€˜Thanks very much.’
    Eva followed the couple in through the front door and then started up the first set of concrete stairs that, like all stairwells, seemed to smell of smoke and urine. When she reached the third floor, she followed the woman’s instructions and went to Shaun’s door. His name was scrawled neatly in a small plastic box on the right but there didn’t appear to be a bell. She took her hat off and shoved it into her bag, knocked quickly at the scuffed surface of the wooden door and waited. No answer. She waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again but there was still no response. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking she pressed her left ear up against the door to try and detect signs of movement. The door creaked open. Eva stepped back. She looked around again to see if any of the other residents in the housing block had noticed her, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around. Gently, she pushed the door so that it was fully open and took several steps inside.
    â€˜Hello?… er… Shaun?’
    No answer.
    Eva walked further into the flat then paused and looked back at the open doorway. Still no sound came from the hallway. If anyone had noticed, they were keeping themselves to themselves. She took a deep breath. Was she really going to do this? She wanted to find Shaun himself, not go searching through his flat. And why was his front door open? Realising she was probably wasting her time, she turned back towards the door, about to leave. Suddenly she stopped.
    In the corner of the door leading through to what looked like the living room was a bare foot, sole up. The foot was completely still. Eva stepped closer, her heart almost stopping as she held her breath, knowing there was only going to be one outcome to this regrettable burst of curiosity.
    She walked quickly into the living room, came to a sudden halt and rocked backwards on her heels, a scream stuck somewhere in the back of her throat. Oh my god.

    A man – presumably Shaun – stared back at her from the floor, eyes wide and bulging. His mouth was open and gaping and his body was lying twisted at an unnatural angle, his lower half facing down and his upper torso twisted so that from the waist up he was lying on his side, almost on his back. A wave of nausea overwhelmed Eva and she turned out of the living room door and retched. When she managed to compose herself she looked again at the corpse; his eyes were wide open, desperate, almost surprised, his naked body so white against the faux wood flooring. She took several steps towards him, slowly bent down and felt for a pulse, just in case. Nothing. She stepped back again. She had never seen a corpse before; the complete stillness was unnerving. There were red marks around Shaun’s wrists but other than that she couldn’t see anything on the flaxen white skin that could explain his sudden demise. There was no blood, no knife wound, no ligature marks around the neck. She took a tentative step forward and leaned in closer, fighting her imagination that was convinced he would rear up and suddenly grab at her like a character from a cheap horror film.

    Then she noticed an