Leo pulled the camera back slowly. “You been putting coffee grounds down the sink?”
He walked out into the Auckland rain, got into his van, and drove home. He didn’t sleep. But at 6:00 AM, when his daughter asked what he’d fixed, he kissed her head again and said, “Just a grease blockage, sweetpea.”
Leo nodded. He’d seen this twice before in twenty years. Once in a commercial kitchen in Takapuna, once in a church hall in Grey Lynn. “You ever have renovations done? Maybe before you bought the place?”
Simon’s face went pale. “The previous owner… he was a bit eccentric. Died in the house, actually. They found him in the laundry.”
“Got it,” Leo muttered.
“Pasta? Rice? Wet wipes?”
