Never To Return by Jack Cartwright

Author:Jack Cartwright [Cartwright, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Bo turned out to be forty kilograms of German Shepherd, who watched Anna from the van’s passenger seat. He didn’t bark or growl. He just watched her curiously. That way dogs do, when they’re deciding if you’re the alpha, or if they are.

Michael Doughty waited by the corner of the barn while Anna fetched her bag, and then she presented her warrant card, thankful she could refrain from letting her hands shake.

He nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “You’ll have to forgive me. I was just defending my property.”

“From what?”

“I told you. Thieves,” he said. “Vermin, they are. Come here when I’m not about. Take my property. Hard enough to scratch a living these days without having little bastards break my locks and take my kit.”

“You said you had lost some paddle boards?”

“Aye. That’s right,” he said. Anna guessed he was from Northern Lincolnshire, on the border of Yorkshire perhaps, because of his slightly thicker accent. “Have they taken anything else?”

“Not that I’ve seen. I know it’s kids. Anyone with half a brain would have taken the tools. I know what they do. They take them, fool around on the river, and then throw them away. It doesn’t matter to them, does it? They didn’t pay for them. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’re not lying punctured at the bottom of the river.”

“And when did you last notice one missing?”

“It’s not the boards I noticed. It was the lock. Prised off the door with a jimmy bar or something. If I get my hands on them before you, I can assure you…” he said, pointing his finger at Anna.

“You can assure me what, exactly, Mr Doughty?” Anna said. “You’ll do well to remember this is a murder investigation.”

“Aye, well. I’ll not be putting up with this much longer. My patience is wearing thin enough.”

“Well, your patience is going to have to hold up a little while longer. We’ve got a young lad lying dead in a mortuary.”

He tore his eyes from hers and stared at his van, averting his gaze for as long as he could.

“If I’m honest, Mr Doughty, I’m surprised you get enough business to keep going. I could barely find you, and the river isn’t exactly busy.”

“I’ve got a kiosk up at Skeggy. Keep all my kit here,” he said, nodding at the little cottage. “Where I can keep an eye on it.”

“Oh, right,” Anna replied. “That seems to work well.”

“You what?”

“Have you reported the thefts to the police?”

He pulled a face at the mention of the word police, like he’d just eaten a rotten piece of fruit.

“What’s the point in that? You’re hardly likely to help me out, are you?”

“You said you had tools in the workshop.”

“Aye, that’s right.”

“What are they for?”

“Mending stuff. Engines, and the like. I run a small trade for the local boats. You know? Services and the like. Keeps me busy during winter when the beach trade dies down. Nobody rents kayaks or paddle boards in winter, do they?”

“I guess not,” Anna replied.

“Aye, well. The

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