Indefensible (DI Sara Ramsey Book 12), M Comley [world of reading TXT] 📗

“That’s a roger, boss.”

Sara ended the call and shook her head when she caught Carla smirking. “Am I going to have to contend with this from now on?”

“Soft spot, that’s all I’m saying.”

“He also has a girlfriend he’s about to pop the question to, if I recall rightly… just saying.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t fancy you as well.”

“Get a life, Carla. Come on, let’s start taking things seriously. Pepper spray in hand on this one, shove it up your sleeve if necessary.”

“I know the drill.”

“On y va, as the French would say.”

Carla yanked her back, preventing her from getting out of the vehicle. “Did you just swear at me in a foreign language?”

“Not at all. On we go, it means. You need to broaden your horizons in life, love.”

“Whatever.”

They approached the front door of the shabby-looking terraced property, watching their step en route up the craggy concrete path. Sara prepared herself by sucking in a few calming breaths. She rang the doorbell and withdrew her ID from her coat pocket.

The door opened. A man in his fifties, with greying hair and the start of a beard darkening on his chin, stood on the threshold. “Yeah, what do you want?”

“Jo Zappel?”

He seemed perplexed. “Has the landlord sent you? I know I’m behind on the rent, but things have been a little tough lately. I’m doing my best to find funds, but it’s proving difficult.”

“Ah, no. We’re not from the landlord.” Sara placed her warrant card in front of his face and heard him gulp. “DI Sara Ramsey and DS Carla Jameson. We’d like you to accompany us to the station, sir.”

“For what? Er… you can’t come to my house demanding this, that and the other, you just can’t.”

“I’m afraid we can if we have reason to believe you’re guilty of a serious crime or two, or three… who knows at this stage?”

He frowned, quickly stepped back and tried to slam the door in their faces. Carla was the first to react. She slammed both her hands into the door, it shot back and sent the man off balance. Carla followed the movement up by pouncing on him and placing cuffs on his wrists before he could say or do anything else. She yanked him to his feet. His head swivelled between Sara and Carla.

“I’m telling you, I ain’t done nothing wrong,” Zappel protested.

Craig and Will got out of their car and headed towards them.

“Hand him over, Carla. They can take him back to base.”

“Oi, what about my cat? She’s in the house, who’s going to feed her?”

“I’ll pop in there and fill her bowl for a few days,” Sara suggested.

“Yeah, I know the drill. Think you’re doing me a favour when all the time you’ve just gained free access to my house. Nope, she can starve for all I care.”

“Your choice, Zappel. We’ll have a search warrant within a few hours, anyway. You really want your precious cat to starve?”

“No. Feed her then. I’ll be back before I know it, because I won’t be able to tell you nothin’.”

“We’ll see about that. Do you need anything else from the house?”

“My hat and coat, they’re on the hook behind the door in the hallway.”

Sara marched into the house and unhooked the black coat and cap which he’d been wearing in the CCTV footage and went back outside. “Are these yours?”

“Yes, they’re mine.”

Sara exchanged a triumphant glance with the other three officers. “Good.”

Craig slung the coat and cap in an evidence bag. Sara went back inside to fetch another jacket for the suspect.

“Ere, you can’t do that,” Zappel shouted, frowning. Craig and Will ignored the suspect and put him in the back of their vehicle.

Sara and Carla waited for the car to set off and then went into the house. “You do realise we could be in the wrong here, don’t you?” Carla asked.

“No, not when he gave us permission to enter the house to feed the cat. We’ll do that, have a quick snoop around and be out of here before you can say ‘the cat ate the goldfish when I wasn’t looking’.”

“Funny ha ha! What if he doesn’t have a goldfish?” Carla chuckled.

Sara smirked and they entered the front room. Sara’s nose wrinkled. “Anyway, we have the hat and coat as pretty rigid evidence. Not the most pleasant smell I’ve ever bloody encountered. Sweaty socks and takeaways, what a vile combination.” She pointed at the corner of the room where a mound of different food cartons filled the space.

“Jesus, what a fucking pig,” Carla uttered.

“Nope, pigs are supposed to be clean animals, unlike this cretin. There’s no sign of a cat in here, I’ll go through to the kitchen.” Sara went past a tired old sleeping bag on the couch, not bearing to look too closely at the stains on the dark blue cover in case it finished her stomach off.

A friendly black and white pussy came to greet her, and it weaved in and out of her legs as she crossed the room to look under the sink for its food. That’s where she kept Misty’s meals at home. “Hello, sweetie. Are you hungry?” Sara peered in the cat’s bowl on the kitchen windowsill and retched. The thing hadn’t been washed out in decades by the look of it. She opened a few of the cupboards on the wall and removed a side plate that had a huge crack in it. Next, she hunted through the cutlery drawer to find a can opener. It was rusty as hell, but eventually, with a vast amount of patience, she opened enough of the can to remove half the food. She mashed it with a spoon and offered it to the starving cat. “He clearly doesn’t tend to your every need, does he, sweetheart?”

“Not your problem before you go getting any ideas,” Carla said from the doorway.

“I know. I’ll place a call to the RSPCA, see if they’ll come and pick it up.”

“Want me to go take a sneaky peek upstairs?”

“We’ll both