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

‘Do you think you would be able to recognise the flashy gentleman visitor if you saw him again?’

‘Oh yes, most definitely I would.’

The pair stood. ‘Just one last thing.’

Miss Finch looked up, questioningly.

‘Mr Raglan told me the last time I was here that he was going to try and get back from the bank the cheques written by the Dixons which had bounced. You don’t happen to know if he’s managed to do that, do you?’

Again Miss Finch looked puzzled. ‘Cheques? How old school! We don’t use cheques these days. I can’t remember the last time I saw a cheque, we do everything by BACS transfer.’

‘Thanks for your time, Miss Finch,’ said Mike. ‘Don’t bother telling Mr Raglan about our visit, we’ll catch him another time. You’ve have been very helpful.’

Miss Finch giggled, ‘I have?’

‘You have,’ said Mike. ‘However, it may be that we need a written statement from you, is that a problem?’

‘Not at all! Like I said I’m here every day nine to five…’

‘Except Sundays,’ said Mike with a smile.

The Incident Room was a hive of activity when the pair returned; it was almost time for debrief, and since it was near to teatime, hunger had set in and a sugar rush was required. There was a scramble for Tattie’s homemade cookies which she’d placed upon a plate to put in the centre of the table, and her reluctance to hand them over was a cause of banter amongst the team, who were succeeding in winding the office manager up. Seeing Charley Mann’s office door closed, Mike set about inputting the new information he had gleaned from his conversation with Miss Finch into the database.

‘Why would Raglan lie to us about the cheques, and not inform us of the visit from Faisal?’ said Charley, when Mike updated her before the debrief. ‘I want you to liaise with West Midlands Police and see what their intelligence can tell us about the bad boy. And get a current address for him, will you? We might just have to pay him a visit.’

Mike diligently noted the action.

‘Then, when we get that information, I think we ought to invite Mr Raglan into the station, and see what he has to say when we tell him we know he has lied to us, as well as being sparing with information he does hold. He needs eliminating like the rest of them, but the more I hear about him, the more he is of interest to me.’

Wilkie’s day was made because he managed to secure a cookie and a cup of tea. He chuckled. ‘You don’t like Raglan, do you boss?’

‘A pet hate – lying – especially when there is no need. All we want is the truth for God’s sake, which is the whole point of any investigation.’

Wilkie dunked the last of his biscuit and popped it in his mouth, ‘Ah, well, no doubt you’ll scare the shit out of him, boss.’

‘That’s my intention, although the old man must be tougher than we think.’

‘How’d you mean?’ said Wilkie.

‘Well, Faisal didn’t worry him enough to report his visit to us, did he? Although he might look a wimp, wimps in my experience can suddenly grow in stature. The big question for me is, was he involved in the murder of the unknown man we found behind the fireplace? One thing for sure is there is no way he would be strong enough to move the stone wall and fire basket himself. He would need an accomplice. Who could that be?’ Charley turned to Annie, ‘I want the financial investigation team looking at his finances, and get them to look at James Thomas’s too, while you’re at it.’

‘Proving who didn’t do it is just as important as proving who did,’ said Ricky-Lee.

‘Exactly. It’s about time we made contact with Mr and Mrs Hayfield in Milford-On-Sea, and see what they can tell us about Crownest, and how the house came into their hands. I’m interested to know how Raglan came to market the property, and I’d like to see if their story fits in with what Mr Raglan would have us believe.’

‘They’re an elderly couple, by all accounts. It’ll be a day trip for a couple of the team,’ said Mike.

‘Part of the reason why I haven’t subjected them to a visit, until now. Milford is a six-hundred-mile round trip, and I’m not a hundred per cent that what they can tell us would be worth the time, nor the expense. However, needs must. We have to find out for ourselves what they have to say, we can’t believe anything Raglan tells us any more, and whoever does go, remind them to remain professional. I don’t want to see a selfie of anyone on a beach eating ice-cream, if they value their job.’

Wilkie chuckled. ‘It’s the middle of winter!’

‘Nuff said,’ replied Annie.

Charley unwrapped her evening meal at her desk, and stabbed a few chips with the simple wooden takeaway fork. Faisal’s antecedent history and previous convictions made interesting reading.

A tap came at her door, it was Ricky-Lee. ‘You’ll get indigestion,’ he said.

Charley relaxed back in her chair, and smiled. With the others gone for the night, and the lights dimmed, the office was quiet and calm, and it gave her a feeling of peace. ‘Yeah, and I’ll stink of fish fried in beef dripping. Ne’er mind,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘I’ll content myself with a quick scrub with a flannel and then go out and stand in the wind for a while later.’ All of a sudden, Charley felt a feeling of nostalgia come over her. ‘My granny used to say that,’ she said, quietly.

‘She sounds a bit of a character, your granny,’ said Ricky-Lee, mirroring her smile. ‘I’ll be off now, boss. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Charley watched him leave. She prayed she was doing right by him, and the others – the victims of the crimes they were investigating –