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

silhouetted against the now darkening grey skies. If God were looking down on her, he would send rain instead of more snow. She shivered as large snowflakes began to fall.

‘Miraculously, the pair of chimneys at either side of the grand building remained erect, like two proud soldiers, don’t you think?’

Charley turned to see the rugged face of Nevermore’s owner, Mr Greenwood. The demolition company director sported a thick woollen hat.

‘Joe,’ he said shaking her hand.

‘Detective Inspector Charley Mann, Huddersfield CID.’

Joe Greenwood took her to one side conspiratorially. ‘Look, this building is no doubt going to implode soon. With the west wing gone, the damaged walls won’t be able to take the strain much longer. From a health-and-safety point of view, it’s causing me a great deal of concern. Which is why we need to get it dropped as soon as possible,’ he said. There was a certain amount of frustration in his voice, as well as desperation, and for the first time Charley felt certain that not all was as it should be.

Charley shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I do have a great deal of sympathy for you, but there are procedures that I have to adhere to. Like it or not, it’s my job to determine whether it’s arson and that means first I must speak to the leader of the fire crew, to get their take on the situation before I do anything else.’

Joe Greenwood scowled. ‘For goodness sake, does it matter how the fire started when the place is in such disrepair? You and I know it was probably local kids that have nowt better to do than cause mischief. Come on, give me a break; the lads are on site and I can have what’s left of this eyesore dropped…’ He took a look at his watch, ‘… in precisely two hours.’

Charley raised her eyes at Mr Greenwood. ‘I seem to remember that I saw the property up for sale at Raglan’s Estate Agents in the High Street not that long ago and they didn’t call it an “eyesore”. According to them it was quite a desirable family residence!’

Out of the corner of her eye, Charley could see a firefighter walking towards them, and as he did so, he removed his gloves and helmet. ‘Definitely a smell of accelerant,’ he said, wiping his dirty face with a piece of rag.

Charley saw Joe’s shoulders drop, and a heavy sigh emerged from his lips. It was evident that the firefighter saw it too.

‘It could be from the machinery you’re using.’

‘Still, it could be suspicious?’ asked Charley.

‘I’m saying there are a couple of seats of fire which suggests to me that it’s no accident, but let’s face it, which person of any significance would bother setting fire to a house that is about to be demolished?’

‘Who indeed,’ said Charley. ‘However, just as important to me, is why? But, Mr Greenwood is right, it’s insecure and needs making safe. There’s no likelihood of securing any evidence from that water-soaked debris.’ Charley turned to face Mr Greenwood. ‘Do what you need to do.’

Chapter 2

Crownest was the title on the deeds, and the name that had been hand-carved into the naturally weathered grand Yorkshire stone pillars, which, despite having had a knock or two over the years, had remained standing as monuments of the past at the gateway to the house.

Owing to her interest in the property, mostly fuelled by her grandmother’s tales, Charley was aware that the house had been home to a number of generations of the locally renowned Alderman family, so the results of Annie’s enquiries with the estate agent surprised her somewhat.

‘The occupants of Crownest had apparently been renting the property from the owners, prior to the completion of the sale.’

As she stood at her filing cabinet, Charley acknowledged the hot drink the young detective constable had put on her desk with a ‘thank you’. The SIO paused, reminiscent of another time. ‘I recall Danny Ray, my ex, once wrote an article for The Chronicle about Crownest.’

‘You mean the ex that is looking at a minimum of twenty five years in jail, for murder?.’

Charley breathed in deeply, and with a file in her hand swiftly slammed the drawer shut. ‘Yes, that’s the one! And, the reason why I’m single and more than happy to stay that way,’ she said with a cynical smile. She walked past Annie to her desk, and sat.

Four years her junior, with significantly less service and life experience, that Annie put down to being schooled by nuns, Detective Constable Glover slid into the visitors chair opposite. Thoughtfully, she ran her tongue over her tongue stud. ‘Me too. Life’s complicated enough without men!’

Charley looked at her quizzically, ‘The thing with the new, young, fit, Chief Inspector didn’t last long.’

Annie pulled a face, ‘He might be young, fit and extremely good looking, but would you go out with a man who farts in front of your friends and then rates it by sound and smell?’

Charley giggled. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not funny.’

‘No, it’s not,’ Annie said sulkily.

Charley picked up her mug of coffee.

‘Whilst doing the research for the article Danny said that solicitors had been searching for a relative of Adam Alderman’s, to claim his estate, for donkey’s years – hence I guess why Crownest had been empty for so long. Adam, Felix’s bastard son died at a ripe old age in the 1950s. It’s news to me that anyone had been found, but maybe it happened when I was seconded to the Met for those years. According to local gossip, Catherine Alderman, the sister of Felix and Seth, was banished to Australia by Seth, who was reported to be insanely jealous of her relationship with his wife. Catherine was never heard of again. Some say Seth killed her in one of his drunken rages and she never actually left the country.’ Charley paused, her eyebrows creasing together in a frown. ‘Don’t you think it odd for the buyers Mister and Missus Bradley Dixon to