Dead Level by Damien Boyd

Author:Damien Boyd
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Traditional Detectives, Thrillers & Suspense, British Detectives, Crime, Thrillers, Police Procedurals, Thriller & Suspense
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2016-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

It was just before 3 p.m. when Dixon parked in Henbury Close, a modern development of terraced town houses set back off the main road, just along from Torquay Football Club at Plainmoor. The floodlights were visible over the rooftops, but they were off and all was quiet.

‘Bet it’s chaos here on a match day,’ said Dixon. ‘Number 16’s in the far corner over there.’

The garages and parking spaces were some distance from the houses themselves, which fronted onto a communal garden area. Louise followed him across the grass and waited behind him while he rang the doorbell.

‘Mr Treadwell?’

‘Yes.’ He was in his late sixties and was wearing a dressing gown and pyjamas.

‘My name is Detective Inspector Dixon and this is PC Willmott. We understand you’re the registered owner of a Norton motorcycle.’

‘I did a SORN thing, the off road notification. You can’t do me for not renewing the road tax.’

‘It’s not about that, Mr Treadwell. May we see the bike, please?’

‘Why?’

‘A Norton motorcycle was involved in an incident a week or so ago and we’re just eliminating bikes from our enquiries at this stage.’

Treadwell nodded. ‘Hang on,’ he said, closing the door. Dixon could see him through the pane of glass rummaging in the pockets of a coat hanging on the wall behind the door. ‘Here you go,’ he said. He handed a set of keys to Dixon, holding it by the smallest key.

‘That’s the garage key. It’s that block over there. Third one along. Just push the keys through the letter box when you’ve finished.’

Dixon watched the door slam, looked at Louise, and raised his eyebrows.

‘Takes all sorts, I suppose.’

‘What’s his problem, I wonder?’ asked Louise.

‘Did you see the cannula in the back of his left hand?’ asked Dixon. ‘C’mon. Let’s go and have a look at this Norton.’

The number 16 painted in large black letters on the white garage door confirmed that they had the right garage and Dixon inserted the key in the lock. Then he lifted the up and over door, holding it up in one hand while he peered underneath it.

‘Is there a light?’

Louise ducked under the door and felt along the wall for a light switch.

‘Here it is.’

The garage was full of old furniture and boxes but they could just about make out a motorcycle leaning against the wall at the back. The fuel tank was missing and the seat cover had rotted away, revealing the cushioning underneath.

‘Come and hold this a sec,’ said Dixon. ‘If I let go it’ll drop.’

Louise took hold of the door from Dixon and he stepped into the garage. The door lowered a little, which added to the gloom, and it didn’t help that the light bulb was covered in dust and cobwebs. There was no way through to the back to get a close look at the bike, but, more importantly, no way to get the bike out either. Dixon looked at the floor in front of the pile of furniture. None had been moved in ages, judging by the dust.

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