Roadkill by Marcia Woolf

Author:Marcia Woolf
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: roadkill, marcia woolf
Publisher: Crooked Cat publishing

Chapter Eighteen

Round-up

It was late. Rush had sent his team home for the night. He should have gone home himself, but Isobel had taken the kids to visit her mother in Stranraer and he couldn't face another of her pre-frozen dinners. He stuck his head round the door of the ops room, where Sullivan was still reading through a statement.

“Give it a rest. You fancy a beer and a pizza?”

Ollie looked up over his reading glasses. “Yes, okay. Why not?”

It was pitch dark when they left. And raining, again. It's climate change, everybody says so.

“How's the timeline going?”

Rush shrugged. “I wish we'd known about the bloody doors.”

“Another thing. I was looking at that photo of the back of the Hall. There's a first-floor window to the left of the camera.”

“So?”

“Well, anyone who had access to that room would be able to lean out and change the direction the camera was facing.”

Rush looked at Sullivan and realised why he'd made DCI already. “Any idea what the room is?”

“No. I tried to call Claire Heathfield to ask her, but she'd gone home. I'll get hold of her tomorrow. I doubt it's a guest room though, right above the kitchens and facing the back.”

“What, you think it's staff accommodation?”

“Could be. Let's hope so: that narrows the access down a bit. If it's a store room anyone might have gone in there.”

Rush took a swig of his beer. The waitress came over and sidled their pizzas onto the table. She was tall, blonde, all smooth and glossy and salon-tanned the way girls are in the more salubrious parts of the South East; about seventeen, probably a student on a gap year. Rush watched her retreat towards the kitchen.

“Nice arse.”

Sullivan followed his gaze. “A bit young for me.” Then he realised it sounded like an accusation. “What's happening with Romero?”

“That pillock? We picked him up about eight this evening. Finally tracked him down to some fashion shoot in Brighton. He's in a cell down the nick. Woodman couldn't get much sense out of him and reckoned he'd benefit from a night in our little B&B to jog his memory.”

Sullivan smiled to himself at the way Rush said fashion shoot, like it was something indecent.

“D'you reckon it was him on the bike with the pillion passenger?”

Rush took a mouthful of his Meat Feast. “Don't see who else it could have been.”

“That's good police work.”

Rush's mouth dropped, giving Sullivan a nice view of his spicy pork topping.

“You can't assume it was him,” said Sullivan. “We ought to hear what he's go to say for himself. There's absolutely nothing to connect him to Freeman.”

Rush scowled. “He's a lying git. Got previous as well: two counts of ABH, one handling stolen goods, and a couple for possession. Nothing big-time: just the old 'personal use'. He's sticking to what he said originally: that it's him and his bike on the CCTV and it was definitely him going into the store with his bike. Then he said he packed up his stuff at just gone eleven, and left at about 11.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.