Where the Silence Calls by MJ Lee

Author:MJ Lee [Lee, MJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781788633185
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Ltd
Published: 2019-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The Sykes home was on a quiet, tree-lined street in Bowden, not far from Altrincham town centre.

‘Worth a bob or two, these people.’

‘We don’t know that, Ridpath. Perhaps they bought the property long before the surge in house prices in the late Nineties.’

‘True, but not a bad place to live. And certainly not a place I could afford.’

They pressed the bell on the outside gate. Instantly a dog started yapping from inside the detached house.

‘Best alarm system known to man – a little dog who thinks he’s a Rottweiler.’

The door opened and an old woman appeared, shoving a little Lhasa apso back with her foot. ‘Stay there, Stewart, be a good boy, stay inside.’

The dog, of course, ignored her commands and tried his best to get out into the garden.

Eventually she closed the door and limped down to the gate. ‘Hello, how can I help you?’

‘Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday. I’m Margaret Challinor, from the coroner’s office. I believe my office manager, Jenny Oldfield, rang you yesterday to tell you we were coming.’

‘But she didn’t say why. I did ask, but she wouldn’t tell me.’

‘We prefer to tell people in person, Mrs Sykes.’

There was a pause as the information registered. ‘It’s about Samuel, isn’t it?’ For a moment her chest sagged and her legs began to give way. She grabbed the stone gate post for support. ‘I always dreaded this day…’

‘It is about Samuel. Can we come in?’

She opened the gate and they walked together to the front door. ‘Father will be upset. We haven’t seen Samuel for three years now. He used to come back but not any more. He never comes back any more…’

Her voice trailed off as she opened the front door and the dog began yapping again. ‘Don’t worry about Stewart, he makes a noise but he hasn’t bitten anybody for ages. You wait here while I put him in the kitchen.’

They were left in the hall as Mrs Sykes herded the reluctant dog backwards.

Ridpath looked around. The wallpaper was faded and the carpet looked like it was a relic from the Fifties. An old dresser stood in the hallway with a sad bunch of plastic flowers sitting in a Coalport vase.

‘Looks like we stepped back in time,’ said Ridpath.

‘Some people don’t want to be modern, they can’t abide change…’

‘Or they can’t afford it. Asset rich and cash poor.’

‘That’s a withering assessment, Ridpath.’

‘Sorry, Mrs Challinor, the policeman inside me is always there. You can tell a lot about people from their houses.’

Just as Ridpath finished speaking, Mrs Sykes returned. ‘There, that’s him sorted. He won’t be happy and he’ll sulk for the rest of the day, but at least we can talk in peace. Please come this way.’

She showed them into a large lounge. An old man was sitting in an armchair at the far side, close to a gas fire. Near him a television was on with the sound turned down. The rest of the room had photographs and pictures on the walls, along with a row of flying ducks and wallpaper beginning to yellow with age.

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