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

why not.’ Charley couldn’t conceal a smile. ‘Of course, it could also be that those who buried him wanted the burial to be a statement about his failed relationship with the church – although he is in sacred soil – just. We know his wife, Lucinda, lived here with her parents before they were married.’

Ricky-Lee frowned. ‘Didn’t Seth commit suicide? Maybe that is why his body was distanced from his family’s plot.’ He paused.

Charley smiled to herself, this was the Ricky-Lee she knew; an intelligent man. It was clear he desperately needed a distraction from an addiction that she feared was about to drag him under, to destroy his life, if he let it. Charley was not going to let that happen, not on her shift.

‘Well, we don’t actually know it was suicide,’ she said. ‘Although, there is evidence of someone spending time at the bricked-up wall; etchings, names and depressive quotes, and scribblings. There are also piles of bottles that have been proved by Forensics to have contained alcohol and drugs.’

‘He was known to be a drug-taking alcoholic,’ Ricky-Lee stated. He stopped, and briefly looked at her like a child who had been severely reprimanded.

‘What you mean is that he was an addict, and it’s highly likely that the addiction ruined his life, and no doubt shortened it,’ said Charley.

Ricky-Lee dropped to his haunches and started pulling away the loose bricks around the bottom edge of the grave. He pulled at the soggy, wet grass, which in turn revealed a sloppy mud mess underneath. Digging the mud out was not as hard as he expected. After a minute or two he looked up at Charley.

‘I don’t think we will find a skeleton in this grave because I don’t think it is a grave at all. Here! Look! It’s a step… and another!’ he said. ‘Soil would have been used to fill in the gaps and to restore the original to ground level, when it was filled in, hurriedly, I suggest by the amount of it.’

‘By whom though, and after Seth’s death or before it?’ said Charley.

Ricky-Lee stopped for a moment. ‘But, if Seth Alderman isn’t buried here, then where is he buried?’ asked Ricky-Lee.

Chapter 22

Delegation had never been easy for Charley, as a self-confessed control freak, but she had learnt, quite quickly, to be comfortable with it since attending a senior management course, where she had overheard an instructor shouting to another that empowerment was ‘delegation’ for grown-ups, and that if he didn’t grow up pretty sharpish, he’d be off the course quicker than he could say Robert Peel!

Being in charge of murder enquiries wasn’t just about catching the killer either, she had discovered. Seldom did people know that the process of actions taken, or not taken, by her officers throughout an investigation had to be documented in a personal log created by the SIO. Charley had quickly realised that her personal log was a godsend to her at any future trial, as the document acted as her Bible, showing in black and white all her actions and reasoning, timed, dated, and signed by her. It was also essential that all monies spent were accounted for. Every piece of paper relating to the enquiry required the signature of the Senior Investigating Officer to show that it had been read and authorised. As a result, Charley had also learned to speed-read pretty quickly because documents had to be turned around quickly for further work to be completed, or to be filed as a record.

Her signature had never changed over the years; her grandpa had told her that all her loops and swirls meant she was artistic, outgoing and people-orientated, apparently.

That evening’s debrief brought about more welcome news for the team. There was a hit on the database for the firearm that had been used to kill the male victim at Crownest. It had been used at an armed robbery of a local convenience store a while ago, so the identical marks on the bullet casing that were retrieved at the scene told them.

‘This is one of the incidents that Ben and Terry want to speak to the Dixons about. The suggestion is that the gun was discharged into the air, at the convenience shop robbery as opposed to being pointed at anyone,’ said DS Mike Blake.

Reading the report, an icy shiver ran down Annie’s spine. ‘My God! According to this, if it hadn’t been for the beamed ceiling, the shot could have killed someone upstairs!’

Mike nodded. ‘Absolutely! Mr Chaudry’s wife and children were in the flat above the shop when the robbery was taking place. But what we have now is Mr and Mrs Dixon back in the frame for the murder of our male, at Crownest,’ he continued. There was a renewed energy in his tone. ‘As we know, they’re already being sought in connection with other cold-case robberies, but as yet, I can confirm again that no weapons have been recovered when the pair have been arrested previously. Therefore, it would appear they may still have access to them.’

After the meeting, Charley sat quietly, sipping coffee whilst searching the database for the file relating to the robbery. She stopped only when she found what she was looking for. Suddenly she was aware of the quickening of her heart. ‘HD/674/’ she read out loud, whilst writing the crime number down at the top of a clean page in her notebook.

Slowly, page by page, line by line, and word by word, she read the details of the incident report, to try to understand what had taken place – and if there were any other links to Crownest.

Victim: Mr Waseem Chaudry.

Age: 61 years old.

No physical injuries, treated for shock at the scene by paramedics.

The information on the next screen saddened her. Four weeks after the robbery Mr Chaudry was found dead. The cause – heart-attack.

The family, she read, was convinced that the early death of the mild-mannered family man, who was well regarded by the local community as being