Two Evils: A DI Charlotte Savage Novel. Mark Sennen

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       Chapter Six

       Crownhill Police Station, Plymouth. Wednesday 21st October. 9.22 a.m.

      Wednesday morning and there was still no sign of Jason Hobb. The door-to-door officers had come back empty-handed and the various search and rescue teams were winding down their operations. There was as yet no evidence a crime had been committed but everyone involved was becoming increasingly worried.

      The first piece of good news came at ten o’clock. Ned Stone, the mother’s boyfriend, had been located. Apparently he was back at his digs in Devonport. A ground-floor bedsit on Clarence Place. Savage grabbed DC Calter and they headed over there and rendezvoused with a local PC.

      ‘Spotted his car, ma’am,’ the woman said. She beamed at Savage, pleased with herself. ‘Wasn’t there when we went round late last night nor first thing this morning.’

      ‘Well done,’ Savage said as they strolled up the narrow pavement. ‘And you think he’s in?’

      ‘I stood to one side of the window. There’s a telly on full blast.’

      Savage nodded and slowed as they reached a dark blue door. ‘This it?’

      ‘Yes.’ The PC pointed across the street to a battered red Corsa. ‘And that’s his car. As I said, it wasn’t here earlier and there was no answer when we knocked.’

      ‘So he’s been away.’ It was a statement, not a question. Savage didn’t need to bring up the obvious implication.

      ‘Told you, ma’am,’ Calter said, moving forward. ‘Let’s get in there and find out what he knows.’

      ‘Yes.’ Savage put a hand out. ‘But we play it straight, OK?’

      They approached the door and Savage enquired about other exits. Not from the bedsit, the PC said. Savage looked at the three bell pushes to the right of the door. Flats one, two and three. She pushed the button for number three and then, after there was no reply, number two. Almost immediately there was a sound, somebody descending the stairs and then a figure behind the glass panel. The door opened a fraction, coming up against a security chain. A woman’s face appeared in the gap. Elderly, looking concerned.

      ‘Police.’ Savage kept her voice low and proffered her warrant card. ‘We’ve business with Mr Stone. If you could let us in that would be great.’

      The woman looked back over her shoulder and then nodded. She released the security chain and was already scuttling down the corridor and up the stairs as Savage and Calter entered the hallway. Halfway down on the right a bicycle leant against the wall. Beyond the bicycle a door with a Yale lock. Savage walked down and knocked on the door.

      ‘Police, Mr Stone,’ she said. ‘Open up, we’d like a chat.’

      There was movement from within the bedsit and the noise from the TV ceased. Somebody stumbled behind the door and then the lock clicked open. The man who answered the door had a chiselled face and a short haircut. A tattoo ran up one side of his neck and on the hand which pulled open the door was more ink: F. U. C. K. She wondered how that worked. Did the other hand have only three fingers?

      ‘Ned Stone?’ Savage held up her warrant card so there could be no confusion. ‘Police. We’d like a word please. You can invite us in or you can come down to the station.’

      ‘Hey?’ Stone blinked and then rubbed his eyes. He was wearing a pair of loose-fitting grey tracksuit bottoms and a white T-shirt, the latter inside out. He shook his head. ‘I’ve just woken up and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.’

      Stone turned from the door and walked back into the room. On the far side a mattress lay on the floor against one wall. A duvet had been rucked up on the bed and now Stone went over and slumped down on top of it.

      ‘Late night, Ned?’ Calter said as she moved past Savage and entered the room. ‘Burning the candle at both ends? Well, we’ve got plenty of beds down at the custody suite and the rooms are a darn sight cleaner than this one.’

      ‘What’s СКАЧАТЬ