‘When you came back to work on, what – Wednesday…’
‘Wednesday, yes.’
‘Did Carl mention anything to you that seemed out of place on that route? Perhaps something that jarred with him?’
‘In what way?’ Bonnie’s voice held a note of defensiveness as she looked from Laura to Gavin. ‘Has someone made a complaint?’
‘Nothing like that,’ said Gavin, his tone smooth. ‘We’re trying to work out if perhaps Carl’s death might be connected to his work, or something he might’ve seen or overheard while out on his route.’
‘When we heard that he’d covered your shift a few weeks ago, we wondered if he might’ve said something to you on your return to work,’ Laura added.
‘He didn’t, no.’ Bonnie’s shoulders relaxed a little, although a frown creased her brow. ‘Although, come to think of it, he was quieter than normal when I got back to work on the Wednesday morning. I thought at the time that perhaps he was coming down with something, like Emily had.’
‘Did you notice anything else?’ said Gavin.
Bonnie rested her chin in her hand, her gaze dropping to the floor. ‘Like I said, he was quiet around the depot that week. We’d have a laugh while we were working, cleaning out the trucks at the end of the shift and that sort of thing. There are a few of us in there at any one time, and there’s the usual banter. He seemed… preoccupied. A couple of times, Adele had to repeat herself because he wasn’t listening.’
‘She didn’t mention that to us,’ said Laura, her pen poised above her notebook.
Bonnie straightened and managed a smile. ‘She’s probably forgotten – she has a lot on in that role, and we’re understaffed as it is.’
‘You said that was the week you were off, three weeks ago,’ said Gavin. ‘What about the last couple of weeks? How did Carl seem then?’
‘If anything, he was even quieter last week. Nervous about something, too.’ Bonnie bit her lip.
‘Did you ask him what was wrong?’
‘I didn’t want to pry – I wondered if maybe there was trouble at home, something like that. I thought I’d leave it another week and if he still seemed under the weather then I’d ask him this week.’
Bonnie’s face fell. ‘And now, of course, I’ll never get the chance.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kay tied back her hair into a low ponytail and placed her glass of lager on a wooden table beside the sofa before sitting on the living room carpet, her legs curled up beneath her.
Two white and tabby kittens tumbled from a small cardboard box that Adam had upended on the rug in front of the television, their stubby tails high in the air as they chased after each other around the coffee table.
Kay laughed, then picked up a stick with a toy fish strung to the end and waved it above a tortoiseshell kitten hovering at the open gate to their wire enclosure beside her.
‘You know he’s waiting for you to get closer so he can take another swipe at you,’ said Adam, bending down from the sofa to scoop up its sibling before she got caught in the crossfire.
‘He won’t,’ said Kay. ‘He’s getting used to me now, look – ow!’
‘Told you.’ Adam laughed, shook his head and then took a sip of beer before turning his attention to the football game on the television.
Kay hung the fishing rod on top of the cage before joining him, then swung her legs over the arm of the sofa and leaned her head against his shoulder as the second half of the match kicked off.
Barnes had insisted she leave the incident room at the same time as him rather than work late as usual, reasoning that until they had a breakthrough in the investigation she might as well get as much rest as possible.
She couldn’t fault his logic – after all, it was a solid reason and one she’d used often enough herself when managing her team.
They only needed one piece of information to cross their desks to provide them with the breakthrough they so desperately needed, and there would be no rest for any of them until Carl Taylor’s killer was arrested.
She glanced at the new scratch on the back of her hand with a rueful grimace, then reached out as Adam passed a bowl of crisps her way.
Taking a handful, she peered at her mobile phone screen as it began to vibrate on the coffee table in front of them.
‘That’s Laura – I’m going to have to take it,’ she said, sweeping the phone off the table.
‘Do you want me to mute this?’
‘No, don’t worry. I’ll go in the kitchen. Do you want another drink when I come back?’
‘Please. I’m going to need it if this lot concede another goal like the last one.’
She smiled, picked up her beer and answered the phone while she padded along the hallway.
‘Sorry to phone you at home, guv,’ said Laura. ‘Thought you might like an update now rather than wait until the morning.’
‘No problem.’ Kay took a sip of lager, placed the glass on the kitchen worktop and slid onto one of the stools beside it. ‘How did you get on with Bonnie Hopkins?’
‘She gave the impression that she and Carl worked closely together,’ said the detective constable. ‘Nothing untoward, just that they got on really well, which is why I suppose she felt she could rely on him to cover her route when her daughter got sick the other week. We got her to provide us with a rough guide to the area her usual delivery round takes her, too, so I can get Hughes onto that first thing tomorrow.’
‘That’s good work.’
‘Thanks, guv.’
Laura paused at the other end of the line, and Kay could hear her turning pages.
‘One thing Bonnie did tell us was that when she came back to work on the Wednesday, Carl had changed – he was always the chatty type but after covering that shift of hers three weeks ago, she said he was quieter than usual, and nervous as well.’
‘Did he tell her why?’
‘No – she said she planned to ask him this week if things hadn’t improved. She said she wondered if he and Helen were having problems at home, which is why she didn’t want to ask him straight away.’
Kay put down her glass, the drink forgotten. ‘I wonder if he didn’t want to tell her?’
‘Do you think maybe she was up to something, and he found out about it?’ Laura’s voice held a note of wonder. ‘Bloody hell, guv – I hadn’t even considered that.’
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions yet. But something rattled Carl that week, didn’t it? I mean, you said Bonnie didn’t mention anything about him being out of kilter the week prior to him covering her route, only afterwards.’
Laura fell silent a moment, and Kay’s thoughts shifted a gear.
‘Tell you what – do what we agreed. Work with Hughes to research the types of businesses in that area of Bonnie’s, and when I come in tomorrow morning I’ll work with Barnes to dig into Steve Luxford’s past. I’ll also have Gavin go through the system and see who lives in the area Bonnie’s route covers to find out what prior convictions they might have.’
‘Do you still think his death is connected to his work, rather than his personal life?’ said Laura.
‘I’m not ruling anything out at the moment,’ said Kay. ‘Not until we work out what connects Carl covering for Bonnie’s shift, that parcel of cocaine hidden at his house – or why he wound up frozen to death and dumped at Mike O’Connor’s garage.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kay elbowed the side door into the police station the next morning, a takeaway coffee cup in one hand and a greasy paper bag in the other.
Hughes looked up from sifting through paperwork at the front desk as she turned the corner to go upstairs and raised his nose in the air.
‘Bacon butties?’
She grinned. ‘I need Barnes to do me a favour later on today. Figured I’d appeal to his better side.’
‘You mean his stomach?’ Hughes laughed. ‘It should work, no problem.’
‘That’s what I thought. See you later.’
Still smiling, s
he made her way up the flight of stairs leading to the first floor and headed towards the incident room allocated for the investigation.
Before she reached the doorway, Gavin hurried out with his jacket halfway up his arms and his keys in his hand.
‘Off out?’ said Kay, moving aside to let the young detective pass.
‘I’m heading over to that cold chain distribution place over at Laddingford, guv.’
‘Good work – see you later.’
Kay smiled as he hurried away, and turned her attention back to the incident room.
A hubbub of noise greeted her.
Several of her colleagues were already at their desks despite the early hour, eyes locked on their computer screens while the tap tap of fingers stabbing at keyboards filled the lulls in conversation.
Laura and Hughes had their heads bowed while they sat side by side at two desks in the far corner, and at the sight of a large map of the local area spread out on the table beside them she realised they were already working through the tasks she had set the young detective constable the previous night.
Kay sidled between a cluster of desks and a photocopier, then placed the bagged sandwich on Barnes’s desk while he finished a phone call.
He stuck his thumb in the air as she switched on her computer screen and logged in.
She let out a groan when she saw the list of new emails waiting for her, and bit back a curse at a meeting request from Sharp to join him that morning at headquarters.
A briefing with the Chief Superintendent was the last thing she wanted to do in the middle of a murder enquiry, but if she wanted to retain the staff that had joined the team in the past few days to help, then a request for a progress update was inevitable.
She emitted a huff when she read the last line of the email suggesting a way to progress the investigation.
Barnes ended his call and glanced across his desk at her. ‘Thanks for breakfast. What’s the long face for?’
She let him get away with the candid remark as none of the others were within earshot, knowing that his lack of formal address to her within the incident room was simply his way of trying to lift her spirits a little.
There weren’t many people who could get away with it, and there weren’t many who understood the underlying responsibilities that came with her rank.
Barnes did.
Kay sighed, conceded his point and forced herself to relax. ‘Sharp wants me to attend a reconstruction of Carl and Will’s last movements with him this morning. The Chief Super insisted on some reporters being invited along.’
‘Ooh, lucky you.’ Barnes polished off the warm sandwich, wiped his fingers on a paper tissue and tossed the rubbish into the bin under his desk. ‘Cheers for that. What’s the plan of attack for this morning, then? You probably saw Gavin on his way out just now.’
‘Yes, and with any luck that side of the investigation might turn up something we can use.’ Kay picked up a pile of manila folders that had been stacked on one side of her desk and dropped them into her in-tray. ‘What you and I need to do before I disappear over to headquarters is check Steve Luxford’s background. His old car wash place was an incorporated company so we should be able to confirm that. I want to know what his prior businesses were, and whether there are any money trails in and out of those. If we can find balance sheets on the Companies House website, we might spot something that gives us cause for concern – or at least a reason to dig deeper.’
Barnes pulled his chair closer to his desk, fingers already tapping at his keyboard. ‘What’ve we got here… okay, what he said about the car wash place is true, look. Sold it three months ago, and hasn’t registered a new business since then.’
Kay moved around to his side of the two desks and sank into a spare chair. ‘What about previous businesses? Was he incorporated, or a sole trader before that one?’
‘If he was a sole trader, we won’t find anything on here.’
Barnes entered Luxford’s name into the search bar once more, then sat back in his chair and emitted a grunt of surprise. ‘Two previous limited companies, both dissolved. The one before the car wash was a used car garage out near Thanet.’
‘Knows a thing or two about how to run a business, then,’ said Kay, chin in hand as she leaned closer. She skimmed the scant details listed. ‘Okay, so as far as we can see here he tends to trade legitimately––’
‘Even if he does come across as callous about O’Connor’s situation.’
‘Right.’ Kay sighed. ‘But that doesn’t make him a murderer, does it?’
Barnes frowned. ‘My gut feeling is that he’s up to something, even if it isn’t connected to Carl Taylor’s death. I mean, look at these micro accounts that were listed for the used car garage. He wasn’t making much from it.’
‘Do you think most of his trade was done cash-only?’
‘It’d be an easy way to launder money, wouldn’t it?’
Kay’s heart leapt as she turned to her colleague. ‘It would, although we’ve got nothing to suggest Luxford has anything to do with drugs, so how does that tie him to Carl’s murder?’
‘I don’t know, guv, but I think it’s worth spending some more time looking into it.’
Kay checked her watch, then pushed back the chair and moved back to her desk. ‘Okay, I’m going to have to make a move so I don’t get stuck in traffic. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that this reconstruction jogs people’s memories.’
‘It’s a good idea, even if you’re going to have reporters there,’ said Barnes. ‘The phones have gone silent, and we’ve got no real leads. I presume since you’ve fed me, there’s something you want me to do while you’re out?’
‘Yes – can you arrange to speak to Charlotte Luxford, and let me know if you find out anything from her that might help with the background checks on her husband’s businesses?’
‘Will do.’ Barnes raised his mug of coffee. ‘Do you want me to ask her anything in particular?’
‘Yeah – ask her if she thinks her husband killed Carl Taylor.’
Kay smiled at the sound of her colleague choking on his drink as she hurried away.
Chapter Thirty
Gavin tugged the sleeves of the calf-length protective jacket over his hands and huddled beside a set of open steel doors set into a wall twice the length of the incident room.
His breath frosted on the air in front of him, goosebumps prickling his arms while he peered through wide plastic strips that dangled from the door frame, the sound of truck engines rumbling from behind a corrugated iron door at his rear.
His usually spiky hair was covered with a blue plastic hat, his shoes encased in matching booties similar to those he wore at active crime scenes.
Peering from his booties to the tiled floor, he noticed the corridor was spotlessly clean.
Door handles sparkled, and a faint smell of disinfectant wafted his way as another steel door at the far end of the corridor opened.
A man in his forties hurried towards him, clipboard in hand and a perplexed expression on his face.
‘Detective Piper, sorry to keep you,’ he blurted before the door had swung shut behind him. He was out of breath by the time he reached Gavin and handed him a yellow high visibility vest. ‘I’m Rupert Penrose, Operations Manager. You’ll need to wear that once we’re through there.’
Gavin slipped the vest over the jacket and used the Velcro fastenings to secure it across his chest. ‘Thanks for letting me have a look around.’
‘I’m not sure what help I can be to your investigation. It would be highly irregular for any sort of impropriety to take place here. We run a tight ship, you know.’ His footsteps swished over the tiles as he switched the clipboard to his other hand and gestured for Gavin to follow him through the curtained-off area.
A fresh blast of cold air swirled around Gavin’s neck when he entered the cavernous space beyond, and he flicked up the collar of the protective jacket.
After Kay’s instructions to visit the site a
t yesterday’s briefing, Gavin had spent the time between conducting other witness interviews and filing paperwork developing his interview strategy.
The company’s website was deceptively opaque about what went on behind the high wire perimeter fence that separated its concrete forecourt from the B-road beyond, and Gavin was keen to see what was behind it.
Penrose paused beside a bright-green forklift truck and waved his hand over the lines of stacked pallets that filled the warehouse.
‘What do you know about cold chain distribution, detective?’
The operations manager had to raise his voice above the noise from a cacophony of machinery as refrigeration units battled for dominance over the clatter of pallets being moved and the whirr of forklifts as drivers zipped back and forth.
‘Only what I’ve gleaned from your website,’ Gavin replied, half expecting his breath to fog in front of his face in the chilly atmosphere. ‘You act as a third party between local food producers and major supermarkets. Apart from that, there wasn’t much to go on.’
‘We prefer to keep it that way.’ Penrose gestured to a demarcated path that zig-zagged across the concrete concourse. ‘Stay between the yellow lines, please.’
Gavin followed the operations manager along the path towards the far end of the warehouse and peered through doorways into three glass-fronted offices that hugged the perimeter of the path.
Inside each, men and women sat with heads bowed as they monitored computer screens or spoke into phones, their attention taken fully by their work rather than the detective and his escort.
‘We’re part of a national food distribution chain and most of what we have here is time-sensitive,’ said Penrose as they passed the last open doorway, a woman’s voice filtering out to where they stood. ‘A lot of our produce heads to large wholesale markets while the prices are still being negotiated.’
Surveying the throng of warehouse workers who scurried back and forth between the long lines of floor-to-ceiling shelves, Gavin watched as a forklift carried a pallet of lettuces through the doors at the end to a waiting articulated truck, a familiar supermarket logo emblazoned down the side of its trailer.
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