Glasshouses Chapter Three
There was a curse I couldn’t make out and the sound of liquid being poured, which I figured was coffee from Wrigley’s new cafetiere. I would happily have maimed for a coffee right now.
“So the body isn’t that of Mike Mulligan?”
“Correct.”
“Why couldn’t this have been straightforward?”
“Because it doesn’t work that way, sir.” I watched the CSIs carefully move the body bag into the back of a van, Nate supervising them, not that they needed much supervising.
“Just once. What do you need? I want this wrapping as quick as possible and I’m aware you can’t conjure a conviction from thin air.” He was now tapping his pen on his desk; I could hear the repetitive sound which meant he was stressed.
“Verity would be useful. Maybe Lachy. I’ve got the locals on door to door here, but that’s only for forty-eight hours.
” The golden hour was evaporating. “Reporters are out. Cordons are in place, all the usual stuff.” I’d spent the last hour organising the scene, liaising with Jenna and Katie, and trying to avoid Paul who seemed adamant he needed to live in my pocket.
“What’s been done so far to identify the victim?”
I looked up to the sky in the hope it would drop a barrel of patience on me.
“Body’s at the morgue. Nate’s starting this afternoon.
I’ll attend. Paul’s sending in a robot to look at the cellars in case we have a second – or more – body there.
That’s starting in about ten minutes. The body’s not really recognisable and the house is in too much of a state to find anything that would help with identification between the fire and what’s been used to put it out. ”
There was another grumble, unintelligible and bad tempered. “So we could be looking at identification through dental records or that malarky. That’ll take ages. What about Mike Mulligan? Any sign of him?”
“No. He doesn’t have a car registered to him and there’s no vehicle registered to this address.
Neighbours reported he was isolated, spending a lot of time in his garden, but the house was a concern.
He retired in his fifties and has money, by all accounts, but they didn’t know what it was spent on.
He’s apparently a club member or it could be a church or religious organisation, no one’s sure.
” The houses on the road were spread apart, long driveways and wide gardens so they could go months without bumping into each other.
There was silence from Wrigley.
“If you can let me have Verity and Lachy, that would help. The priority is locating Mike Mulligan and IDing our vic.” I pushed, knowing that Wrigley was set on the epitaph to his police career being that he’d taken down one of the city’s gang lords, and with what had happened last week, there was a good chance he could pull this one off.
“You can have Verity from this afternoon, she’s just interviewing at the moment, and I’ll send Lachy over now.”
“Thank you. Could you send him with a couple of coffees and a sandwich?”
“Now you’re pushing it, McAllister.”
Grab your copy…
lasshouses