CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Thoughts of his sister’s wasted life had saddened Jon. He never spoke about her, and was surprised that he’d told Kate as much as he had. Now he was trying to take his mind off it. He’d done all he could regarding the chapel’s extra-curricula activities, plus he’d asked uniform to check the pumping station and the sanatorium for them, just in case the chapel crypt was not the venue for Toni’s second party.

He stretched, pushed his chair back and called across to where Rosie sat at her computer. ‘Hot chocolate, Flower?’

She looked up and smiled. ‘I’d kill for one. Metaphorically speaking.’

Jon walked out to the vending machine, and glanced back at her. Rosie was still staring at the monitor, and idly twisting her hair into a tight corkscrew. Jon smiled. She often did that when she concentrated. As he sorted out some change, he wondered why he took it for granted how attractive she was, and considering the time they spent together, why didn’t he know more about her. He knew she was one of three girls, all in the police force, and all in different divisions, and that she had a flat over a flower shop in the High Street, end of. Not great, when she was supposed to be his colleague and his friend. Maybe he should ask her to go for a drink?

Jon straightened up, grunted and pushed the coins roughly into the machine. And maybe nothing. They had a missing girl to find, and he needed to keep his mind firmly on that, not allowing it to wander down paths where it had no business.

 

PC Andy English and PC Ivan Goode sat in their squad car and appraised the scene before them.

Windrush was a massive old Gothic Victorian property. It sat in overgrown parkland that bordered the marsh, and in its heyday, must have been quite something. But those times had passed.

‘Oh my,’ murmured Andy. ‘We’ll need a fortnight to check this dump thoroughly.’

Ivan didn’t answer. He was still trying to take in the full scale of the old mansion. The main building was more or less intact, but some of the peripherals; storerooms, barns and out-houses, seemed to be being demolished. Piles of rubble and stacks of old timber were heaped along the edge of the lawn, and from somewhere around the back, Ivan could see a plume of grey smoke rising from what must have been a large bonfire. ‘Well, someone is here.’ He indicated to the smoke. ‘Let’s go have a word.’

Andy nodded, then stepped out onto the weed-covered gravel drive and slammed the car door. He pulled on his hat and began to walk towards the flight of stone steps that led up to the main entrance.

A JCB stood at the foot of the steps, and Andy noticed a soft ticking sound as he passed it. ‘Engine’s cooling down. You’re right about someone being around.’

‘What are they doing with this place?’

‘No idea. I haven’t been out this way for years.’

Ivan pushed open one of two big front doors and they stepped into a huge foyer. ‘Fenland Constabulary! He called out. ‘Anyone home?’ His voice echoed across the cracked marble floor, up the rusting staircase and over the powdery plaster on the shabby high walls.

‘Must be outside.’ Andy moved back through the doors and together they walked around to the side of the house.

On what was left of an expanse of concrete patio, was a battered metal skip with a thick plank of wood resting against the lower edge. As they approached it, they saw a mountain of a man, his fat hands tightly gripping the rubber handles of a loaded builder’s wheelbarrow, stride effortlessly up the plank, and with a roar, heave upward and send the weighty contents crashing down into the dented old container. With one deft twist, he brought the cement-caked barrow back around, and down to the ground.

Sweat dripped from his brow, and that brow creased into a scowl of disapproval, as his eyes fell on the two policemen.

Andy fought to retain his normal calm expression as he gazed at the ugliest man he had ever seen. ‘Eh, good afternoon, Sir. Are you the owner here?’

Hostility flooded from every pore of the man’s huge frame, and a gruff ‘No’ was all he said. Then the frown deepened and he added, ‘There’s nothing here for you. This is private property.’

‘Sorry, sir, but we have a young woman missing.’ Ivan tried to look taller and tougher than he actually was, and quickly realised that he had failed. ‘We need to check all unoccupied buildings in the area and we’d like the owner’s permission to have a look around.’

Both officers saw a swift change of expression dart across the giant’s face. Andy found the emotion hard to place, but the mention of the girl had clearly affected the man in some way.

‘Oh, well, that’s different.’ He didn’t smile at them, but his anger had abated somewhat. ‘A girl, you say? Well, I’ve been out here from dawn to dusk for the past month and I’ve seen no-one.’

‘It’s a big place, sir. She could have either sneaked in, or been brought here, and you’d not necessarily see. We do need to have a look, I’m afraid.’

‘Yes, of course, uh, I don’t suppose the owner, Mr Broome, would object.’ He brushed dirt from his meaty hands, then wiped them down his trouser legs. ‘But I’ll have to come with you. This place is not safe. And some of it is locked. I’ll need to get the keys. Oh, and you will need hard hats too. Health and safety and all that crap.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ said Andy courteously. ‘And you are..?’

The man paused. ‘Micah. I’m Micah Lee, Mr Broome’s caretaker. He don’t come here too often, so I keeps an eye on things for him.’

‘And you are doing a lot of work too.’ added Ivan looking at the site that Micah was in the process of clearing. ‘What are the plans for this place?’

‘It’s a big project, a dream really,’ mused the man. ‘But you’d better ask Mr Broome about it yourself. I’ll give you his card when we go into my office.’ He sniffed loudly. ‘Now, come with me and we’ll get those hats.’

 

An hour later, their shoes scuffed and their uniforms patchy and white with dust and dirt, the two policemen decided that enough was enough.

‘No-one has been here, have they?’ grumbled Ivan.

‘They’d be barking if they did,’ added Andy, rubbing plaster dust from his trouser leg. ‘This place is a death trap.’ He looked at Micah. ‘Sorry to have disturbed you, Mr Lee. Good luck with the project,’ He grimaced. ‘…I reckon you are going to need it.’

‘Oh it’ll happen, you’ll see, officer. I know it will take time, but Mr Broome will get his dream one day.’

Andy opened the door of the car and thankfully sank down into the driver’s seat. ‘I hope so, sir.’ He turned the ignition, waved, then drove down the wide driveway as swiftly as he could. ‘Bloody hell! That was one ugly son-of-a-bitch, wasn’t it?’

‘Hagrid meets the Incredible Hulk.’ Ivan swallowed. ‘I’m going to have nightmares thinking about that face, and did you see the calluses on his hands?’

‘I did, and I certainly wouldn’t want to meet him in an alley on a dark night.’

Ivan stared down at the tatty dog-eared card that he still held in his hand. ‘Shall I give this Broome bloke a bell?’

Andy slowed down at the gate-house then pulled out onto the deserted lane. ‘Not much point. I get the feeling that the big guy will probably have already contacted him about our visit.’ As he accelerated away from the desolate old property, he frowned. ‘But I will make sure the Guv’nor knows about this place. I can’t say that I’m really happy about it, are you?’

Ivan let out a whistle, ‘Want me to be honest? I’ve never felt so spooked by a place since I was a cub-scout and someone shut me in the churchyard at dusk.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Shit scared, mate. That’s how I felt. Shit scared.’