Condemned, R.C. Bridgestock [most romantic novels TXT] 📗

lived at Crownest within the time parameters that have been suggested by the post-mortem of the male corpse.’

Charley turned to Annie. ‘Get on to the cold-case team again, will you? I want to know from Ben and Terry exactly what sort of weapons the Dixons are known to use. I also want to know if the previous investigations included Ballistics to assist in linking the crimes known to have been committed by the pair, and I want to see those reports.’

The attending officers took notes and their heads nodded in compliance.

What Charley desperately needed to do was to place the gun that had fired the bullet into the man’s skull in the hands of the killer, whoever that may be.

The Dixons remained the priority. To put them in, or out, of the enquiry was her aim sooner rather than later. Their criminal record, and the fact they had lived at Crownest, made them prime suspects to the crime.

As the team went back to their desks, Charley returned to her office. The day wasn’t over yet. She wondered if, when the Dixons were traced, they would have weapons on them. Her next thought, as she sat at her computer screen with her fingers hovering over the keyboard, was that no weapons had been found at the house, nor had any ammunition been recovered, other than the bullet in the victim’s skull.

She uploaded the Dixon’s file, to see if there were any weapons seized on their last arrest. She paused, waiting for the results, and when they came, she felt the sinking feeling she associated with disappointment – the recorded data told her nothing.

Perhaps the pair had lured the male to the house to kill him? If so, why? Perhaps Mr Raglan should think himself lucky than he wasn’t one of their victims, too. Her mind raced, with so many questions, possibilities, ideas running through her head. She knew that sleep would be hard to come by that night. Copies of the full intelligence file on the Dixons had been added to the Incident Room suspect database. It would make good bedtime reading, if she didn’t get chance before she left the office.

Murder enquiries are essentially about eliminating people, so she couldn’t be limited in her thinking. Her instincts told her that the culprit had to be someone who knew of the tunnel behind the fireplace. Therefore it made sense that it had to be an occupant, or someone who knew Crownest well. After all, as Joe Greenwood, the owner of Nevermore had told her, there was no mention of the tunnel shown on the original plans for the property, so it had to be someone with inside information.

Her concentration was so deep that when Annie knocked on her office door Charley jumped.

‘Ben and Terry are off today,’ she said.

Charley threw her head back and ran her splayed fingers through her hair. ‘Isn’t that always the case? Days off are days wasted!’

‘They are,’ Annie grinned. ‘However, Tattie has it on good authority from their team lead that no weapons have ever been recovered at, or after, any of the Dixon’s arrests.’

The SIO’s head dropped, her eyes lit up. ‘I want copies of the files which show what witnesses have said.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Annie.

‘I want to know what type of ammunition, shell casings and so on, have been recovered at the scene of the crimes.’

Annie smiled. ‘The Dixons are reported to have matching handguns.’

Charley nodded. ‘I’d believe anything where those two are concerned.’

Annie tilted the notepad in her hand to allow her to read the notes she had made and highlighted. ‘The bullet casings recovered from their previous crime scenes are nine millimetre.’

Charley frowned. ‘That’s a common calibre with most types of handgun.’

‘Apparently so, and handguns are the weapon of choice for criminals these days, with a lot adapted from imitations, or conversions of original weapons, I’m told.’

‘Just as lethal, Annie. I’ll give Ballistics a ring, and give them the heads-up on what we see as a possible link. I want to know what their timescale is. The bullet from the skull should be with them shortly.’

‘Perhaps then we’ll get some answers,’ said Annie.

‘We can live in hope,’ Charley smiled as she turned to the telephone. ‘Come on, pick up. I’m not going to hang up. Surely you don’t wear ear protectors all the time at Ballistics!’

Chapter 18

Ballistics could confirm two things. The shell casing had arrived, and on initial visual examination, the expert declared it nine millimetre. She would have to wait for further insights. Frustrated and demoralised with the process because it appeared this was all she was getting for now, Charley dropped the telephone receiver dramatically onto its cradle. She was more than aware that the necessity to carry out the desired tests meant she was at the mercy of the specialists’ workload, yet again, and it galled her. Patience was a virtue, she reminded herself with gritted teeth.

In the briefing room, on sharing the news, the dip in moral was tangible.

Looking around the room, Annie saw demotivated faces. ‘On the positive, we know that our male victim was killed with a single gunshot,’ Annie said in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

Tattie hovered on the periphery of those gathered at the briefing. Her movements somehow exasperated Annie’s momentary hiatus. Annie forced a smile. She hated people hanging around, it reminded her of the convent where the nuns constantly hovered in the background. Annie’s rational self began to fight with her deep-seated emotions, as they always did when she remembered her brother’s suicide, the result of his abuse at the hands of the priests, at school. It was the reason she had become a copper, to try to do her utmost to try to stop man’s inhumanity to fellow man, or at least make sure the guilty paid the price for their crime. She would never ever understand how her mother could still justify her religious faith given what had happened.

‘Why didn’t the bastards take a leaf out