Condemned

by R. C. Bridgestock

  Felix Alderman eventually confessed to the murder of Mary Shire, and was subsequently charged to a public execution.

  Although this local history was gruesome, more shocking to Charley was finding out that Felix had, unbeknown to him, fathered a child to his maid Mary, a boy called Adam. After Mary’s mother, who had continued to look after Adam after her daughter’s death, lost her husband to tuberculosis, it was reported that she went to see Catherine Alderman, Felix’s unmarried sister, who agreed to take Adam into the Alderman home and raise him. Adam was reported to be a sickly child, yet he went on to live until he was at least 92 years old, according to the census that Charley checked against. That made Adam Alderman the last known family member, and resident, of Crownest. There were no known living relatives on his death.

  ‘You really couldn’t make this up!’ gasped Charley, as she leaned forward to click into another thread on Google which told Charley that, after Felix’s death, Seth and Catherine remained at Crownest, with the little boy. The family, although still wealthy, had become somewhat reclusive. According to local midwife Agnes Pritchard, incest was reported amongst brother and sister. She, it was noted, had been paid handsomely for her silence about helping to deliver a stillborn to Catherine who later went on to emigrate to Australia. However, before Agnes Pritchard went to meet her maker, she fully confessed her sins in order to cleanse her soul, and admitted to the burning of the body.

  Charley was riveted by the knowledge she had gleaned, some of it confirmation of what she had already heard from her granny and local rumour. She paused from her research to stand and she went to look out at the window on to the darkened night sky, with numerous questions swimming around in her head. ‘Why would Catherine not take Adam with her to Australia, rather than leave him, a little boy she had sworn to look after, with her brother Seth?

  Down on the ground, from her office window, Charley saw the thickness of the snowfall. How long she had been reading she did not know, but her stomach was rumbling, and it was apparent to her that she would be better off staying where she was for the rest of the night rather than attempting to cross the seven miles of open country roads, and moorland to get home. Compelled to read on, but alone in the office, she made herself a coffee, and after searching her handbag, she retrieved a packet of peanuts in a crumpled packet.

  On researching further, she discovered that Seth had married a Lucinda, the daughter of the sexton at the nearby church of St Anne’s. However, as much as she tried, Charley could not find any more information about the life and times of Lucinda Alderman. She knew from local tales that Seth had blamed Catherine for coming between him and Lucinda, but reading between the lines, Charley surmised that Seth’s growing dependency on opiates and alcohol were the problem, not his sister.

  After Catherine’s exile shortly after, Seth was reported to develop depression, or the ‘black dog’. A report from his doctor brought home to Charley his depths of despair: ‘He didn’t sleep, he rarely ate, and became a veritable recluse, drinking himself into a stupor most days. Huge mounds of dirt were found in piles in the back yard, and on the odd occasion he was seen, he would have a shovel in his hand. There was talk at that time that Seth Alderman had lost his mind.’

  Not twelve months from Catherine’s departure, he was found dead.

  * * *

  The Alderman’s family history consumed her thoughts, night and day. Three days later, as Charley sat at her desk waiting for her team’s morning briefing, she came across the document that had been placed on her desk. Full report into the most recent fire at Crownest. For the attention of Detective Inspector Charley Mann. Charley, eager to read more, picked up the papers.

  The information provided suggested that the recent fire at Crownest had been started deliberately and had been reported to the police by Joe Greenwood, the owner of Nevermore Demolition. The only evidence to support this claim was extremely limited and based on the fact that a piece of timber used for boarding up a lower floor window had been forced off, giving access to the lower floor of the unoccupied house. Further to that, the fire officers in attendance had suggested that there was the possibility of accelerants being involved, due to the fire’s ferocity, and two seats of fire had been found. The building itself was said to be structurally unsound, the danger of which Charley had witnessed herself, hence the decision to demolish it now as soon as possible.

  Following the disappearance of the Dixons, JT Developments, the original local developer who had shown interest in the property, until the council had refused its original plans, was now back on the scene with approval gained for five detached dwellings on the land. They were eager to move things forward swiftly due to their financial investment, but could shed no further light as to who might want to damage the property or why. After all, the only people to gain from its speedy demolition would be them, wouldn’t it, and the fire had in fact caused a delay. It made no sense for them to be involved.

  The report reinforced that an investigation was a non-starter, reasons being:

  Isolated location.

  No CCTV.

  No witnesses.

  No positive lines of enquiry to pursue.

  This was nothing more than a paper exercise, requiring Charley’s signature as head of CID, plus any additional observations to be noted before it was filed.

  In her bold, neat handwriting she wrote:

  NO FURTHER ACTION REQUIRED.

  NO POSITIVE LINES OF ENQUIRY.

  PLEASE FILE.

  All she needed to do now was sign and date the report, and staple the paper to the file. Thereafter, it would be filed away to gather dust. Charley’s pen hovered over the paper. As she screwed off the lid to her fountain pen and was completing the first swirl of her signature which hadn’t changed over the years, her phone rang, and distracted her.

  ‘Force Control, boss, sorry to disturb you, but your attendance is being requested at Crownest. Mr Greenwood, the owner has informed us that work has ceased owing to two bodies, one more skeletal than the other apparently, being found entombed in the building.’

  Charley’s eyebrows rose. ‘That sounds interesting, show me as attending,’ she said screwing the half-signed report into a ball and deftly binning it in the waste basket by the door. ‘GOAL!’ she declared, with feeling.

  Thoughts flashed through her mind, as she picked up her coat. ‘Are the bodies the reason that Crownest was set alight? Are they the remains of the allusive Dixons?’

  Chapter 3

  ‘Detective Constable Glover get y’coat, you’re coming with me,’ Charley shouted from behind her desk, loud enough to be overheard in the outer office where her team worked, despite the chit-chatter.

  She scooped up her keys on the way out.

  Annie was waiting for the computer programme that she had been working on to close, when she heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming her way. She turned to see Charley’s attention focused solely on her. ‘Today would be good, Glover!’

  Sliding her feet into her plimsolls, Annie stumbled to her feet and grabbed her bag, whilst watching her boss’s coat billow out behind her with every step she took towards the exit; the way it snapped in the blast of air when she opened the door appeared to accentuate her urgency, as did her swift disappearance.

  DC Wilkie Connor stopped typing. The bandage around his head was the first thing Annie saw as he peered from behind his screen on the desk opposite hers. Just a few months on from the Chronicle journalist Danny Ray’s attempt on his life in a hit and run traffic accident, which rendered the detective on a life support machine, no relapse had occurred. His fingers reached over and whipped a piece of toast from Annie’s plate on her desk. Annie raised an eyebrow, Wilkie grinned waiting for her retort. When she failed to react, he pushed her patience further. ‘Waste not want not! Choppity chop!’

  ‘Shut it Chrome Dome!’ she snapped as she grabbed the remaining piece of toast off the plate.

  Wilkie’s tittering followed her as she darted from
the room. As second in command to Charley, Detective Sergeant Mike Blake shook his head at Wilkie. ‘Why do you have to wind her up?’

  ‘She loves it really,’ Wilkie chuckled, licking the butter off his fingers one at a time.

  Mike’s eyes were suddenly glued to his computer screen. ‘Whatever, looks like we might have a job on.’

  The remainder of Annie’s breakfast dangled from her teeth, which enabled her to throw on her coat. She dashed along the corridor, rushing down the steps two at a time and at the bottom she slammed her hand on the door pad to release it, before breaking into a run across the backyard in Charley’s wake.

  Nearing her car, Charley clicked the keys, and the lock disengaged. She looked up at the dark clouds overhead, then over the car roof towards the noise of the police station’s rear door closing behind Annie, who was hurrying towards her.

  ‘Where’re we off, ma’am?’ Annie asked breathlessly, tumbling into the passenger seat beside Charley.

  ‘Crownest.’

  Annie, hand still on her seat belt, looked up at Charley somewhat puzzled. ‘You mean they haven’t dropped that yet?’

  Charley shook her head, reversed out of her parking spot – a bespoke slot came with the privilege of rank – and tore out through the large metal gates. ‘Nope, and neither is it likely to be abandoned any time soon.’

  Annie’s eyes were like saucers. ‘Why, what’s happened?’

  ‘They’ve found two bodies, human remains.’ Charley glanced across at Annie. ‘You don’t happen to have any experience with bones, do you?’ she asked.

  Annie considered the question. ‘I’m partial to a barbecued spare rib, dipped in a chive sauce. Does that count?’

  Charley cocked her eyebrow. ‘Not unless you’ve taken up cannibalism it doesn’t. Looks like this is going to be a learning curve for us both.’

  ‘Plastic skeletons scare the shit out of me. Are you sure these are real?’ Annie said, lunging forward at Charley’s sharp braking, at the temporary roadworks.

  With her foot hard on the accelerator, Charley’s car left the others standing behind them at the traffic lights. ‘Better be, or somebody will get a rocket up their arse for calling me out.’

  ‘The last time I saw a skeleton was on the ghost train at Clacton Pier.’ Annie shuddered, and held tightly onto her seat. ‘Those spiders’ webs! Mind you, I was only fourteen, but I’ve never been on a ghost train since.’

  ‘It’s only bits of string and wool hanging down from the roof, you idiot!’ said Charley. Her eyes checked her mirrors, the last thing she needed was the traffic cops on her tail.

  Sensing Charley’s need to process her thoughts, Annie stayed silent whilst Charley navigated the route through the busy town centre.

  * * *

  Out on the open road, Charley relaxed a little. She caught Annie smiling to herself. ‘Penny for them?’ she said.

  ‘I was thinking how good it is to have Wilkie back in the office. He’s come a long way in such a short time.’

  ‘I think maybe the job’s given him something to focus on since the accident. He tells me that he is hopeful the dressing will be off for good later this week. I’m in no doubt he’ll be on full duties before long. He’s a tough old codger to be able to take the full impact of a car being driven at him at speed, and survive it. He’s getting there.’

  ‘Wherever there is,’ said Annie.

  Charley nodded. ‘Yes, wherever there is,’ she muttered, slowing down as they approached Crownest. At the sight of the owner, Joe Greenwood, standing by the gate, she pulled over, and stopped the car in front of him.

  The appearance of the demolition site immediately told the Detective Inspector that the contractors had been very busy since her last visit. However, she was pleased to see everyone standing away from the building, presumably at the request of the police operator after the three nines call.

  Young Finn was standing with his hands in his pockets. He kicked the ground with the metal toecap on his work boots, but as occupied and solemn as he looked, he managed to raise a tight smile and a hand in greeting to her from where he stood, with the rest of the bemused-looking workers, behind the perimeter fence.

  Joe Greenwood’s face was the pale colour of the Yorkshire stone as he shook Charley’s hand. Was it the cold that made him shake, she wondered. Perhaps shock, or was it something else that had unnerved him?

  ‘I’m ever so glad you’re here. Mr Thomas is on his way, and he’s mad. In fact…’ Joe Greenwood looked up and down the road. He turned his back on the workers so he could continue unheard. ‘If he carries out his threat, we’ll be off site today, and the rest…’

  Charley frowned. ‘Who?’

  ‘Mr Thomas, the owner of JT Developments. The owner of this place… James.’

  ‘Why would he sack you, Mr Greenwood?’

  ‘Ah well, he suggested I get rid of the bones. According to him nobody would be any the wiser, but I told him I couldn’t do that, and now all hell’s been let loose because I ignored him and called you lot out.’

  At that moment Charley heard the roar of an approaching vehicle. The thrum told her it had a powerful engine. When a white Lamborghini pulled alongside the outer dry-stone wall, she wasn’t especially surprised to see an angry-looking man in the driving seat. However, what did startle her was the marked police car that pulled up directly behind him – she hadn’t requested back-up.

  If the traffic police had wanted to speak to the driver of the Lamborghini when the red-faced driver jumped out of the car, they took their time to follow. There was no doubt in Charley’s mind that they were admiring the sports car. That was until threats began to be made from an irate Mr Thomas towards Joe Greenwood, which resulted in their quick attendance.

  Despite his gesticulating, Charley’s focus was immediately taken with Mr Thomas’s clothes. He was dressed in a three-piece, well-cut suit.

  ‘Are you in charge of this circus?’ Mr Thomas spat at Charley, who was desperately trying hard not to bring his attention to the muddy puddle that he was standing in, and that was about to ruin his expensive-looking leather shoes.

  When Mr Thomas got no immediate reaction from the Detective Inspector, he ran his fingers through his hair, lowered his voice, and flapped his hands at her patronizingly, ‘I’m sure it would be of benefit to us all if he just gets rid. Do you get my drift, darling? You probably don’t realise this, but for every hour these clowns are standing still, it costs me and my business thousands. Thousands.’ He brushed aside his floppy blonde fringe again. Charley was just about to introduce herself and Annie, when he started again. ‘What with the snow, and now this, it’ll be spring before we know it.’ James lowered his voice for a second time, and turned away from the crowd. ‘I’ve been there, I come from working stock, I grew up hand to mouth, and I know some of these guys desperately need the money.’ James turned to Joe. ‘You know me, I’m a generous man, you got a good deal for the contract, enabling you to give your men a good day’s pay for a good day’s work; tell her, Joe?’

  As one of the uniformed traffic officers reached to lay his hand on Mr Thomas’s elbow, Charley stepped forward. ‘I understand you’ve been informed that human remains have been discovered, Mr Thomas. Mr Greenwood made the right decision to call us, and now, in my capacity as head of CID, I have a duty to investigate. That’s what will be of benefit to us all, which is I’m sure what you meant to say.’

  The owner of JT Developments looked as if he was about to burst. ‘Tell me. How long is this, this nonsense going to take?’

  Charley found herself bristling. ‘How long is a piece of string?’

  Thomas clenched his fists. His face twisted, ugly in anger. ‘Oh, come on, give me a break.’

  ‘Once I know what I’m dealing with, I promise that you’ll be the first to know. Now, if you’ll allow me to get on with my job, the quicker I get started, the quicker I’ll be able to make a decision as to the way forward.’

  Charley took a step towards
the house. Thomas huffed and puffed. ‘Then I’m coming with you. As the owner, I have my rights!’

  ‘You may own the place, but it’s a potential crime scene, and, as I’m sure you will understand, the best chance of solving this mystery is to keep the place as sterile as humanly possible. For now, everyone is required to stay off site,’ she said, indicating to the workers looking on, ‘and that, of course, includes you.’

  With that, Charley dismissed Mr Thomas by turning her head towards Joe Greenwood. Together they walked with Annie towards the big house’s imposing front door. ‘I assume it’s structurally safe to go in?’ Charley asked.

  Hands on his hips, Joe stopped and craned his head to look up to the tallest of the burnt rafters above. ‘For now,’ as he offered Charley and Annie a hard hat each. ‘Health and safety requires you to wear these.’

  ‘How on earth did we ever manage to do anything before Health and Safety regulations, I wonder?’

  Joe allowed himself a chuckle. ‘Used common sense, and got on with the job.’

  * * *

  Charley was taken aback when she stepped through the grand doorway. Something about the atmosphere changed. She chided herself silently for being silly, but the sense of freedom and space that the outside afforded was now overshadowed by a feeling of dread and foreboding.

  The large entrance hall was dark and smelled badly of mould and cat pee. There was an underlying odour of rotting cabbage. Charley put her hand to her mouth and Annie held her nose, but the smell didn’t seem to bother Joe Greenwood. He forged ahead, sweeping his work boots from side to side, to clear any fallen debris from the detectives’ path. ‘Be careful where you tread,’ he warned.

  On hearing an altercation outside, Charley frowned, looked over her shoulder and saw James Thomas running towards her. A uniformed police officer was directly behind him, calling out his name.