Caution Death At Work: A Black Beacons Murder Mystery (DCI Evan Warlow Crime Thriller Book 2) by Rhys Dylan

Author:Rhys Dylan [Dylan, Rhys]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781915185020
Publisher: Wyrmwood Books
Published: 2022-02-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was late afternoon by the time everyone reconvened in the Incident Room. Warlow and Jess hit early afternoon traffic and it had taken them longer than expected to get back.

The good news was that Gil had a tea and biscuit array already set up. By the time the two senior officers had their coats off, there was a mug of steaming brown liquid in front of each of them.

Gil held court. ‘I’m still finding my way around peoples’ preferences, but I noted that you, sir, went straight for the Hobnobs yesterday. Catrin’s a chocolate finger girl, and—’

The conversation ceased as Rhys choked on his mouthful of tea.

‘Sorry…’ he croaked in the middle of a coughing fit. ‘Couldn’t help it. Must have gone down the wrong way.’ He’d gone a dusky red. Partly from the constriction of his bronchial tree and partly from being the only one who’d seen any innuendo at all in Gil’s remarks.

Catrin was giving him an impassive dagger stare, knowing full well that the innocent ‘chocolate finger’ quip had floated his schoolboy-humour boat. ‘How old are you.’ she chided him with a prissy shake of the head while trying not to laugh herself.

‘—and DI Allanby,’ Gil continued, ‘Eats half a custard cream and discards the rest.’

‘I’m conventional when it comes to biccies,’ Jess said. ‘But disciplined with it.’

‘What about the boy with the filthy mind here?’ Catrin nodded at Rhys.

Gil shook his head. ‘Eclectic tastes aka. a bloody hoover. Finishes whatever’s left behind as soon as my back is turned. Anifail.’

Rhys held out both hands palm up, pretending to be insulted at being called an animal in Welsh.

Warlow took a slurp of tea and said, ‘For that affront on good taste you’re up first, Detective Constable Harries.’

Rhys brushed tea droplets from his trousers, stood up and, while his face faded to a healthy pink, recounted his and Catrin’s fruitless visit to the Daniels’ property, emphasising the fire and the magazine from 2018.

‘It literally is in the middle of nowhere. First thing to say is that someone has blocked the access road to Ffrwd Y Dderwen—’

‘What does it mean, the name?’ Jess asked.

‘The brook near the oak,’ Rhys answered.

‘Very poetic.’

‘Doesn’t look like it belongs in a poem at the moment though.’ Catrin slid a laptop around so that the others could see the images of the building and its surroundings.

‘No evidence at all of recent occupation?’ Jess asked.

‘No.’ Rhys answered. ‘As DS Richards said, it’s abandoned. And it’s registered as an empty property with the council, too. Looks like Tristan Daniels got an exemption from paying tax after the fire.’

‘So abandoned, but not quite, is that it?’ Warlow asked.

Rhys nodded.

Catrin spoke up. ‘The DVLA still have Tristan Daniels registered at that address but there was no sign of habitation.’

‘No need for a forensic unit to go out there and give it the once over?’ Warlow asked.

Catrin shook her head. ‘Waste of time.’

‘But at least we know from the magazines that Tristan Daniels was interested in motorbikes,’ Gil said, munching on a bourbon.

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