Four hours later, the sun already lost behind a line of beech trees and a stiff wind buffeting him, Mark waited while a locksmith grappled with the aluminium door to Targethen’s storage unit.
The unit was one of a dozen rented out behind a crumbling farmyard two miles west of Wantage, and one easily located via Targethen’s house clearance website. From time to time, he held auctions at the lot, with the farmer receiving a commission on sales.
The headlights from the pool car illuminated the concrete hardstanding outside the row of twelve units while a pair of uniformed constables stood next to Targethen’s, one aiming a torch beam at the lock.
‘Is Kennedy all right about this?’ said Jan, climbing out of the car and buttoning up her thick woollen coat.
‘He’s fine,’ Mark said over his shoulder. ‘The warrant was signed off an hour ago, and we’ve used this chap before. He only lives down the road.’
He nodded towards the locksmith, who turned away from the garage and handed Alice Fields a broken lock.
‘Looks like we’re in, Sarge,’ she called over.
Hurrying over, he paused at the gaping opening.
Jan nudged his arm. ‘Here.’
‘Thanks.’ He pulled on the disposable gloves she held out and peered into the unit, eyeing the boxes and furniture piled four deep beyond Alice’s torchlight. ‘I kind of wish I had one of Jasper’s full protective body suits and a mask.’
Jan moved off to the side and ran her hand down the exposed cinder blocks. ‘Great. No light switch.’
‘Have you any spare torches?’
‘There’s one more in the car.’ Nathan Willis walked over, handing one to Mark as the locksmith’s van pulled away. ‘What are we looking for, Sarge?’
‘Jewellery.’ Mark reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photocopied list. ‘This is what was taken from the most recent burglaries, so since Targethen would probably have wanted anything he’d fenced moved on as soon as possible, we’ll work on the basis anything stolen prior to March will have been sold by now. If you do find something that isn’t on this list, put it to one side just in case. We’ll photograph it and compare it to the master list back at the station.’
Alice blew out her cheeks. ‘Right, well I’m the smallest so why don’t I climb over to the back and start from there?’
‘Sounds good. Nathan, you squeeze down that right-hand side, and Jan and I’ll take the left half between us with this spare torch.’
They split up, the sound of Alice scrambling over chairs and boxes filling the single garage-sized space for a moment before Mark turned his attention to the first box Jan aimed the torch at.
Pulling out his keys, he sliced through the packing tape and reared back as a child’s blue eyes peered out at him.
‘Jesus.’
Jan managed a laugh. ‘It’s a doll, Sarge.’
‘I hate anything like that.’ He pulled it out and grimaced. ‘Who the hell buys something like this for a kid?’
‘It’s china. I think it’s antique.’
Placing the doll on top of another box beside him, he rummaged deeper into the contents. ‘No, nothing here. These are all old toys, things like that. Okay, on to the next one.’
Ten minutes later, Alice’s torch beam flashed against the back wall, and he heard an excited cry.
‘I’ve got something,’ she said, then dived headlong into an open cardboard box that was almost as tall as her and emerged with a pair of gold hoop earrings. ‘Bugger. Not on the list.’
‘Bring them anyway, just in case. As well as anything else you find in there.’
Mark selected another box, ripping open the packing tape with his keys.
Jan peered inside. ‘This’d almost be like Christmas if it wasn’t for…’
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘What if we don’t find something on the list? What if he’s telling the truth?’
‘He’s hiding something. He’s got to be. Okay, Sonya traded in the viola but she already knew he’d give her a fair price. That suggests to me she knew him before that, and that he respected her enough not to try and short-change her.’
Lifting away crunched up old newspapers, Jan reached deeper and withdrew a set of pewter candlesticks, then a copper kettle. ‘This isn’t looking hopeful.’
‘Try the next one.’
He flashed the torch along the wall, counting the boxes.
There were at least another twenty of varying sizes, and each time they opened one their chances diminished.
‘There has to be something here,’ he muttered.
Jan pushed past a table stacked upside down on an oak dresser, reaching out to steady an antique lamp as it wobbled precariously, then stabbed her keys through the tape sealing the next box.
‘About time he had another clear-out or one of those auctions,’ she grumbled. ‘When was the last time he was here?’
‘According to the bloke who owns the place, about three weeks ago.’ Mark took the torch from her while she started rummaging through the contents. ‘Maybe he’s waiting for the weather to warm up so he gets more people here.’
‘Sarge?’
Mark turned to see Nathan holding up a diamond choker against his neck, the stones sparkling in the constable’s torchlight. ‘It doesn’t suit you.’
‘Never mind that.’ Nathan grinned. ‘It’s on your list.’