Chapter 17 #2
“Verity, shall we go and have a look?” My head was starting to ache along with the rest of me, lack of sleep and tiles from the eighties my current downfall.
“Definitely.” She shot off, probably to get away from Talky Tim, and I followed her down past the glasshouses.
“This has been walked down recently, and not just by Tim,” she said. “What do you reckon we’re going to find?”
“I’m not sure. Through here.” I found the gap in the bushes, slightly thinner than elsewhere, and like the path, it had been used recently.
The raised beds were high with weeds, the movement in them not coming from any breeze. Surrounding them was grass that had long since gone wild, an area probably teeming with rodents and insects and other wildlife.
To the left was a shed, weather worn and fragile, with wood that hadn’t been treated in years. Recent feet had trampled down the grass towards it, so I diverted us another way, taking a video to show where we’d been.
I pulled gloves out of my pocket, passing a pair to Verity. They were a staple, always to be found in whichever coat I was wearing which was sometimes a little weird if I was ever out socialising.
The shed was closed with a hook and eye lock, the original maybe because it certainly wasn’t new.
There was no window to peer though, so I opened the door and saw a large, plastic laundry bag, filled with something, although I couldn’t see what.
The shed was small, six by four, and filled with cobweb covered nursery pots, a few long dead plants and gardening tools.
The bag was an anomaly; the only thing not covered in time’s detritus.
“We need a CSI down here. I want to know what’s in that bag.”
Verity peered over my shoulder. “It stinks of white spirit.”
“I really can’t smell anything.”
“I don’t know how you can’t. Are you starting with a cold, because if you are, keep your distance.” She backed away. “I’ll go and get someone from forensics.”
I took a few photos, trying to stretch inside and hold my phone over to see if I could catch sight of what was inside.
My phone rang, causing me to almost drop it, Wrigley the person who would’ve been blamed.
“Mia, can you get over to Cale Cauldwell’s house?
His gran’s asked a neighbour to let you in so you can get his laptop.
Get it to forensics to pull off the videos of where he’s been urban exploring.
” No pleasantries, no how’s things, just a direct order.
I was going to miss him when he’d retired in a strange way.
“I’ll head there straight after this. We’ve found a shed on the Roselea estate; looks like something recent has been stored in there.” I gave him a quick low down even though he hadn’t asked for it, moving out of the way as soon as one of the CSIs got there. “How’s Cade?”
“Hanging on. He’s stabilised and the doctors are hopeful. I’m leaving one of the FLOs with his gran and heading back to the station. We’re getting everyone together at ten, then you can go home for the weekend.” I heard tiredness in his own voice.
“I can carry on.”
“I will have someone call you if anything breaks. Nick Sweeting’s just got back from holiday so he’ll join the team. I’ll see you at ten.” He hung up, already speaking to someone else.
The CSI was called Jill, and she got to work on the big reveal. “I’ll take the bag back and dust for prints at the lab. This sort of material is gold for finding fingerprints so I’d be surprised if we don’t get something.” She unfolded the top of it, opening it up.
Piles of paper and notepads were stashed in there, some cardboard folders and old lever arch files as well.
I glanced at Verity. “Do you reckon this could be from Amanda’s house?” I shifted so I could see in the bag. “You know what? It is.”
“How do you know?” Verity said, not able to squash her way in. “What’s in there?”
“It looks like accounts, or some of it does. There’s a deed to a property too.” I stood back and gave Jill more room. “Are you taking this back with you?”
“I’ll bag it as evidence, dust for fingerprints and then get it over to you. Should be this afternoon depending on what else we find or if anything else comes in.” She was joined by another of her team.
Verity watched, asking questions as they checked elsewhere in the shed, nothing else materialising. I was itching to go through the paperwork we’d found, see if it had anything to do with what had been found secreted in Amanda’s bedside cabinet.
That had just been sheets of invoices for gardening equipment, apart from one page, which was what looked like a handwritten accounts ledger, but we had no idea what from.
I explained to Verity where I was heading, and instructed her to oversee what was being processed by the CSIs, knowing full well that she didn’t need my instruction – she was more than capable now, then I headed back to my car, tiredness catching up on me, just when I needed to be awake and alert.
I accepted that I had a significant fear of missing out and that there was nothing I could do about it.
I bought a large, black coffee before going into the Fishbowl, realising I hadn’t eaten any breakfast, but was too tired to think about it.
In another reality, I’d just finished parkrun, and was heading home to shower and then continue ripping tiles off walls, because Taz was going to teach me how to plaster this afternoon.
“Is that for me?” Vinny swooped down next to my desk and tried to commit a heinous crime.
“Absolutely fuck off.” I grasped the takeout cup with both hands and clutched on even though it was a million degrees.
“Oh dear, are we a little tired?”
“Fuck off, Vinny.” I turned away from him, crumpled on my desk chair. “I was woken up at three because you weren’t answering.”
“Wrigley didn’t even try to call me.” He sat down on my desk, his backside too close to my face for comfort. “How was your evening?”
I sat up, as if I’d just woken from a nightmare. “I meant to check in on Lily Mayhew. She rang me yesterday evening to say someone had been in her garden.”
“What did you do?”
“Had a response vehicle go out.” I looked around to see Lachy closing in, also eyeing my coffee. “I wasn’t going to go out myself.”
“Why? Hot date?”
“I was worried she was over attaching.” I slurped some of the coffee, scalding my mouth but it was worth it.
Vinny pulled out his mobile. “What’s her number. I’ll call her and check in. Lachy, can you find out what happened last night when they got there?”
I read out her number, leaving Vinny to call Lily, which I was thankful for. I’d had a couple of victims over-attach before and it hadn’t troubled me, but Lily was making me feel uncomfortable.
I didn’t listen to Vinny talking, just focusing on my coffee and wondering why I didn’t have Taz’s number to let him know what was happening. It wouldn’t matter; he’d be there as he’d planned, elusively reliable.
Then I had his pen drive to check, and the questions about how he’d gotten whatever information it was.
But first, sleep.
“She’s a fruit loop.” Vinny had returned.
“What did she say?” I managed to wake up.
“She really wants you to call her, although she appreciates you don’t work twenty-four seven. The police didn’t discount that someone was in her garden, but there was no evidence or sign of anyone.” Vinny sat down on the office chair next to me and swivelled round on it.
Just watching him made me feel sick.
“She sounds like a maiden that wants to be rescued.” Vinny pulled a face. “What did her psychiatrist say?”
“You can read my notes. They’re on the system.” I was too tired to explain it to him. “Or have them read to you if you’ve forgotten how to sound words out.”
“You have no idea how much I want to tell you that your coffee’s decaf.”
I checked the note of the side. “It’s not.”
“I checked last night’s log,” Lachy came over.
“A female police constable stayed with her until just before midnight. No signs of anyone but they were concerned about her welfare, so remained until she felt safe enough, then did drive bys during the night. What that does do is rule her out for making the call from the phone box.”
I half listened to them bounce around different ideas, the office filling up as people returned for whatever they’d been doing.
The team had grown, Wrigley pulling some officers in from the gang case, now it had effectively ended.
More roles were allocated, a detective constable who was new to me was made disclosure officer, overseeing the chains of evidence; tasks were divvied out, Lachy was sent to check for vehicles heading that way, along with another constable to do door to door in the village, in case any cameras or people had caught anyone heading to Roselea, or at the phone box.
I was allocated to go home and sleep until coming back on shift at two pm tomorrow, but as I left the building, wishing I could click my heels and teleport into my bed, I couldn’t help but think how wonderful a coincidence it was that Lily had the police with her at exactly the same time as the fire was reported.
Taz was at my house when I got back and had introduced himself to what was pretending to be my kitchen, a room that looked like it had tumbled out of the nineteen seventies met the eighties in a nightclub, and pooled the worst of their resources.
The stove had three hobs that were working, and an oven that was questionable at best, but the air fryer was new and the microwave could be vicious.
It was penance. I could’ve bought a smaller house that was already fixed and in no need of anything, even a period property two streets away would’ve cost me the same money, been smaller – it was just me so I didn’t need the space – and I wouldn’t have a project on my hands that I was unlikely to ever complete.
But I didn’t deserve to move straight into a nice house, not with where the money came from to buy it.