Laura cast a sideways glance at Kyle Walker as the tall constable climbed from the car and squinted at the array of industrial units and fenced-off yards on either side of the private road.
A row of enormous articulated trucks were parked side-by-side on the other side of a wire mesh boundary, signs fixed to the fencing at regular intervals warning of CCTV and alarms, and in the distance the hiss and spit of an air hose at work resonated off the brick wall beside her.
Farther along from that business, a mechanical digger chugged and groaned within the confines of a builder’s yard, its driver spinning the machine around as deftly as a ballerina while he worked at moving a pile of ballast from one side to the other.
The roar of traffic on Sittingbourne Road underpinned all the other noises, and she wondered how the workers in the offices farther along the industrial estate managed to concentrate.
Especially with the noise from the heavy goods vehicle training track at the end of the road.
Suddenly the incident room overlooking Palace Avenue didn’t seem so bad after all.
‘I thought you said this bloke was an expert in World War Two history?’ said Kyle, watching as a trainee driver sped past on the track. He winced as the man crunched through the gears of the tractor while the trailer behind it juddered alarmingly. ‘Didn’t he tell you he was recce’ing some buildings today? I can’t see anything that old here.’
Laura grinned, then pointed at the entrance to a footpath a few metres away. ‘He said if we follow that, we’ll find him.’
‘Lead the way, then.’
The path was little more than loose stones and dirt, but at least it was dry.
After a few metres, the brick wall gave way to wire fencing that provided a clear view across the wide expanse of the test track.
During summer months, the place was used for open-air exhibitions and fairs, the grass expanse filled with thousands of people from all over the county and farther afield.
She smiled, recalling assignments as a uniformed constable helping to manage the throngs that surged through the ticket gates day and night.
Within a few footsteps, the path gave way to a muddy overgrown track that wove its way around the back of the old airfield and towards a wooded area. A few metres away, she spotted large chunks of discarded concrete and broken walls covered in moss, tree roots crawling like possessive fingers over the decaying structures.
Pausing a moment, she held up her hand to Kyle and lowered her voice. ‘I don’t like this. He said he’d meet us here but this feels wrong.’
Kyle’s suntanned features paled. ‘Do you think this is a trap? He could be our suspect. I mean, we’re only a few miles from the White Hart here.’
‘He sounded all right on the phone.’
Her colleague snorted under his breath. ‘They reckon the worst serial killers are the politest people you’d ever meet.’
Laura swallowed, then pulled out her mobile and checked the signal.
One bar wavered in the top left corner of the screen.
‘There’s someone over there, next to that pile of stones.’
She looked to where Kyle pointed as a balding middle-aged man dressed in jeans and a dark green sweatshirt emerged from what appeared to be a hole in the ground.
He raised a hand in greeting, dropped a battered canvas hat onto his head, and swished through the long grass towards them.
‘Are you the detectives?’ he bellowed.
‘Yes.’ Laura waited until he was closer, and then held up her warrant card and made the introductions.
‘Elliott Windlesham,’ he said. ‘I understand you wanted to talk to me about guns? I take it this is about the shooting that was on the news?’
Laura exhaled, taking in the man’s dishevelled appearance.
He didn’t look like a killer, and his cheerful greeting allayed her fears a little.
‘It is, yes. We just wanted to ask you a few questions about the members of your club.’
Windlesham thrust his shoulders back. ‘I can assure you, detective, they’re all upstanding members of their respective communities, and we take safety very seriously.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ Laura said soothingly. ‘However, as you’ll appreciate we do have to make sure we’ve spoken to everyone in the area who has access to firearms.’
‘Of course.’ The man relaxed a little, then gave a shy smile. ‘Do you mind if I continue working while you ask your questions? As I said on the phone, I’m pushed for time today and if I don’t get this done today I might not get another chance until the spring.’
‘What is it you’re doing?’ said Kyle.
‘Metal detecting around this old pill box.’ Windlesham’s smile broadened. ‘It hasn’t been done in a while, and the owners of the land around here don’t often let us have an opportunity to explore.’
Laura peered across to where the man had emerged, and frowned.
The old wartime defensive structure was unrecognisable from the box-shaped buildings she’d seen dotted around the Kentish countryside – the front wall had tumbled forward and was now buried under an ancient tree trunk, and an ash sapling was sticking up through what was left of the roof.
‘Do you expect to find anything?’
‘The soil can shift over time, so I’m hopeful I might dig up some new finds for the museum. They don’t like us going inside anymore in case the rest of it falls down, but I couldn’t resist a peek,’ he said, and winked.
‘Well, we’ll try not to keep you too long from your explorations.’ Laura nodded to Kyle as he removed his notebook from his utility vest. ‘First of all, could you tell me where you were on Wednesday night between the hours of eight and midnight?’
Windlesham clasped his hands behind his back. ‘I was chairing the monthly meeting for our historical group in the village hall at Detling. Quite a packed room, too – always reassuring to see. Some months, we only see half a dozen but we had a guest speaker from the MoD. Riveting stuff.’
‘And what time did you leave the village hall?’
‘By the time we packed everything away, it was getting on for half ten. After that, myself and two of the other club members went for a drink in Thurnham on the way home. I got back at about ten past eleven – my wife will vouch for me. She was watching the end of a rom-com on the telly.’
‘If you could let us have the names of the people you went out for a drink with as well, please.’
She waited while he scrolled through his phone to find the numbers for Kyle. ‘You’re involved with one of the re-enactment groups here as well – do any of your members hold firearms certificates?’
‘Yes, myself and four others all have certificates. We only ever use the rifles for demonstrations using blank ammunition. Everything’s kept under lock and key at my place.’
‘In Detling?’
‘Yes. The gun cabinet’s in my son’s old bedroom. He left home about five years ago to study in the US and never came back – having too much fun, I suspect.’
He smiled, but Laura could hear the loneliness underlying the comment.
‘Have there been any problems with members of the club recently, Mr Windlesham?’
‘No, not that I’ve noticed.’
‘What about any arguments perhaps, or disagreements?’
He shook his head. ‘No, nothing like that. There are only fifteen of us, and only four with firearms certificates. There aren’t enough of us, and we don’t meet up often enough to warrant anyone falling out I suppose.’
‘Does anyone else have access to that cabinet?’ Kyle asked, then blushed as he caught her eye.
She gave a slight shake of her head – she didn’t mind who asked the questions, as long as they got the answers they needed.
‘Not even my wife,’ said Windlesham. ‘The other chaps have nowhere sufficiently secure to keep their rifles, which is why they’re all kept at my place. Your firearms team are aware of the situation – I’ve kept them up to date about the collection.’
‘And we appreciate that,’ said Laura. She raised her chin as a cool breeze rustled the branches above her head. ‘Along with your time this afternoon. We’ll leave you to it before it gets dark.’
‘Thanks. Hope you catch the bastard.’ Windlesham shivered. ‘Doesn’t bear thinking about, a man wandering around shooting people like that. Just doesn’t happen around here, does it?’
‘We’re doing our best. Thanks again.’
Trudging back through the undergrowth towards the footpath, Laura fought down her frustration as she replayed the conversation in her mind.
She didn’t think the re-enactment enthusiast would be able to help with their investigation, but accepted the task as one that had to be done in order to eliminate anyone who might have knowledge of their suspect – or his victim.
‘I hope the others have had more luck than us,’ Kyle grumbled beside her.
Laura smiled as they made their way past the test track once more, the pool vehicle coming into sight at the end of the path.
‘Me too. That’s the way it goes sometimes – right?’
‘All too often.’
She caught the keys he tossed to her. ‘We’re making good time, though. Fancy stopping for a coffee on the way back to the station?’
‘I thought you’d never ask.’