by Emily Selby
Yes, when? And, more importantly, where?
'It would have to be after Christmas,' she replied, lowering her voice, not wanting to be heard by Chris, who, although still on the phone with Mrs Weatherspoon, was now looking in Katie's and Jack's direction.
'Great, because I'll have some time off over the holiday period,' he said, his face suddenly tensing. 'Let's catch up soon. Chris is finishing, I think.' He jerked his chin in Chris' direction.
Indeed, Chris, having thanked Mrs Weatherspoon, hung up and handed the mobile back to Katie, relief written all over his freckled face.
'It looks like you may be right, Katie,' Chris said, looking at her. 'Mr Blackburn is a retired building inspector. He definitely owns a pair of old work boots. The landlady is not sure about green overalls. He had mentioned a "little job" he had been asked to do by a friend. She doesn't know the name of the friend, but she told me about a card she received from Mr Blackburn shortly after his disappearance. She'll find the card and bring to the station.'
'She'll bring it to the interview, I understand?' Jack cut in, his voice sounding all official again.
'Yes, sir.' Chris nodded sharply.
'What time is she coming in?' Jack asked, setting his briefcase back on the desk and adding a heavy sigh.
'About twenty minutes,' Chris answered. 'She’s planning to leave this afternoon to go back to her sister's. We need to take her statement today.'
Katie's phone pinged with a reminder message.
'Oh,' she moaned. 'I've got a teleconference to setup. I haven't even looked at the agenda. Where’s the boss?'
'He said he'll be back in plenty of time,' Chris answered.
'A retired building inspector on an unofficial job, killed by accident in an old house belonging to a family with criminal connections, and nobody knew about it,' Jack said, drumming his fingers on his briefcase. 'I think, I'd rather have a look at the scene for myself,' he added.
'A hunch?' Katie asked, feeling a warm tingling in her chest.
'He doesn't get hunches,' Chris said, waving his hand and shaking his head at the same time.
Jack pulled his jacket from the chair and threw it over his shoulder. He flashed a smile. 'I do now,' he said. 'Well, I'm learning,' he added and walked out of the room.
'Told you,' Chris said in a dramatic whisper. 'It's all your fault.'
Katie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. It did look like Jack was learning. Her heart fluttered.
'I'd better get on with the teleconference,' she said and retreated into her office to mull over the morning’s events.
4
It was a busy day, even crazy. With Christmas and the end of the year around the corner, Katie's desk was covered in documents to be posted and filed, and her to-do list burst with reminders. Her job was also to make sure everyone else, particularly the boss, had the necessary documents signed off and ready to go. She’d barely managed to prepare the gear for the teleconference when her phone rang.
It was the solicitor, Mrs Bloom's secretary, calling to ask Katie to come in earlier than planned with her ID to complete the inheritance formalities.
Fortunately, Mrs Bloom had a slot after 2 pm, so Katie could pop in after work. Katie put her phone on silent and carried on with her work, determined to plough through as much as possible before her finish time.
She only checked her mobile when she was ready to go home.
Six missed calls from Mrs Weatherspoon! She must be in the right state after her conversation with the police.
Katie was keen to call Mrs Weatherspoon back, but the solicitor wouldn't wait. She'd phone her client after the meeting.
Having completed a few simple formalities, Katie walked out of the office and Roy sneaked after her. It looked as if he was leaving at the same time, but Katie couldn't shake the feeling Roy had something on his mind and didn't want to discuss it in front of Mrs Bloom.
Or maybe, it was about their morning discovery? She'd rather discuss this than anything to do with the inheritance process! A massive headache had already begun to form at the back of her head. Why did Roy want to know what she was going to do with the workshop so much? Was there more to it than wanting to make sure his beloved auntie’s heritage was well looked after, and neighbourly concerns?
Roy opened his mouth.
Please, Lord, not another cross-examination regarding her plans for the workshop!
'Are the police still there?' Katie asked, ignoring the pressure to be polite.
'They were when I was leaving. They've cordoned off the whole property with their yellow tape. I'm glad I mowed the lawns this morning. By the way, I think you can fit in another fence between the workshop and the eyesore. There’s just about enough space.'
'On another note, did you see anyone coming or going to the property lately?'
Roy crossed his arms. 'I've already told the police.'
'Now you tell me,' Katie grinned back at him. 'If we are to be neighbours, we need to take care of our properties and look out for one another.'
Ha, that was a good point. Well done, Katie!
'I told you about those tire marks I found the other day. They looked fresh.'
'When was "the other day"?' Katie pressed.
Roy rubbed his salt-and-pepper beard.
'I normally come on Tuesday morning, so it would be maybe three weeks ago.'
Katie ran a quick calculation in her head.
'The 28th of November?'
Roy shrugged. 'If you say so.'
It would make sense. Archie's mysterious appointment at Number 1, Stream Drive had been on Monday, 27th.
'Did you see any cars during the time you were working around the house, back on the 28th?'
'I think there was something coming and going, but I was busy mowing the lawns and checking on the house, so I wasn't looking. A car might have driven by just before 8 am.'
'Did you see the car?'
'No. I heard it. It came from the other end of Meadowbank Road and turned into Stream Drive. I don't think it stopped.'
So, were the car tracks that appeared shortly before 28th of November linked with Archie Blackburn's "appointment" at the old house? Was the other car a coincidence? Or maybe it was Archie himself who drove there? Katie made a mental note to check with Mrs Weatherspoon if Archie had a car when she made the time to call her back.
'Any other unusual things, or people?' Katie asked automatically.
Roy gave her a squinted look. 'You're behaving like a policewoman, Katie.'
Katie's shoulders tensed. Was she? She'd better be careful. Her superpower was the ability to get people to talk to her because she was not a police officer. She'd better not lose it!
'Good to have a police-connected neighbour,' Katie said, adding a laugh she hoped sounded light-hearted.
But Roy still watched her intently with suspicion in his brown eyes. 'Anyhow, Katie, I've got to go back and sign some more documents. If you wondered what to do with the workshop, let me know. I may have something for you.' He nodded and disappeared behind the heavy, oak door.
Something for me? For the workshop? Was it an offer of help? Or, given how many times he reminded her the area was too quiet for a shop, was he trying to talk Katie into giving up on the idea of using it?
She'd have to check it with him. But now, she had a much more pressing task to do. She pulled her phone out of her handbag and pressed 'redial' button.
What did Mrs Weatherspoon want to share with her?
Mrs Weatherspoon sounded as distressed as she had on the day her sister's husband died. Or maybe more.
'They will be coming here, Katie. They want to go over all of his stuff. I can't stay. I've already promised my sister I'd come back as soon as I can, meaning this evening. I've left my dog with her. Poor Dolly, she's missing me already.'
Katie bit her lip. How nosey would it be to offer her assistance in relation to the search? After all, she was trying to help a distressed woman.
'Mrs Weatherspoon,
if you want, I could be there-'
'Oh, yes, Katie, you're a treasure!' Mrs Weatherspoon jumped in before Katie finished her sentence. 'You need to make sure it's all locked up and double check if they haven't left anything open, and you know... left anything lying around. I'll leave the key to his room on the kitchen counter.'
'I understand. No more potatoes left on the carpet.'
'No,' the elderly lady gasped. 'Poor man. Do you know they suspect they found his body somewhere on the new estate?'
Katie suppressed the urge to correct the location. 'Did they ask you to identify the body?'
'Oh, thank goodness, no. I'm too frail for that and they really need a family member, I think. But the police showed me a photo of his feet and legs. They did look like his work boots. But I suppose, lots of people may have similar footwear. They're calling his daughter, I believe. She's been on the phone with me too. Very upset. She still insists Archie was talking about going away with a friend. She also received a postcard from him. She kept asking me if they found anything in her dad's room that pointed out when he went missing.'
'The police haven't arrived yet, have they?' Katie asked, confused.
'They've sent a policeman who put the yellow tape on his door, locked it and took the key. But their forensics people won't be free until after 5 pm, they say. So, could you come and let them in?'
'No problem. What if they want to ask you more questions?'
'I've already told them all I knew. I showed them the card. It was posted from Newcastle on the 28th. Erin says the one she received was also sent from Newcastle.'
'Was it a postcard from Newcastle?'
'No. Mine was one of those old-fashioned greeting cards, with flowers on. Vintage they call them, my granddaughter tells me. He was a bit like that, vintage.'
'Was it his handwriting?'
'As far as I can tell. Why are you asking all these questions, Katie?'
Katie pressed her lips together. She was prepared for this question!
'I'm trying to make sure you've told them everything, so I can just deal with the keys and lock the house up after they’ve gone. And I'm being a bit nosey, as I often am,' she added, going for a lighter tone.
'Oh, Katie, you shouldn't really be making light of someone's death,' Mrs Weatherspoon clearly didn't appreciate Katie's effort. 'He was a good man, our Archie. Solid and thorough. He tried very hard to keep his word. It wasn't his fault that sometimes things didn't work out for him. I think his daughter is still angry with him for that.'
The elderly lady’s propensity to be polite was making Katie even more confused.
'Sorry, Mrs Weatherspoon, but what are you referring to?'
'As I told you, he had all these rituals he followed, obsessively. And if he couldn't, he would become anxious. So, he would try double hard.' A short silence on the other end of the line was followed by a loud sigh. 'That's why he and his wife split up, I think. That why he had to give up his building inspection work.'
'When was this?'
'Many years ago. He stopped working shortly after he split with his wife. She couldn't tolerate his bizarre behaviour and told him to get treatment. He wanted to do that, but instead, he started to drink, and he wasn't coping at all. Richard, my late husband, tried to help, offered to take him to the doctor. But Archie never liked doctors. They were pill pushers, he kept saying. It's strange, I'm already using the past tense when speaking of him, but they haven't yet confirmed it was Archie, have they?'
Mrs Weatherspoon, when stressed, had a habit of talking incessantly, which Katie actually welcomed this time. It gave her the opportunity to learn more about the unfortunate Archie than simple snooping would allow.
'Not that I know of, Mrs Weatherspoon. But why would his daughter be angry with him?'
Indeed, why. Was there a trail to follow?
'I think it started after the fire.'
'A fire?'
'Yes. Didn't you hear about it? A fire broke out in the shed and his wife was caught in it, as was the boy who rescued her - Erin's boyfriend. She died later in hospital, and the boy received ugly burns.'
Mrs Weatherspoon's anxiety was messing up her pronouns, but Katie guessed the person who died was Erin's mother.
'When did this happen?'
'Over ten years ago.'
'How long has he been boarding with you?'
'Since the split up with his wife. He left her everything they had and didn't have anywhere to go, so Richard and I offered him a roof. The room had been empty for years, since our daughter had moved to London. He was a little eccentric, but never a major problem.'
'So, you think Erin started being angry with him after the fire.'
'That's when she stopped visiting, yes.'
'But her mother had just died and her boyfriend, presumably, was in hospital with bad burns.'
'Oh, yes, of course,' Mrs Weatherspoon said and paused.
'Any other family? Parents? Siblings? Cousins?'
'No. He was a lonely man.'
'Friends? He must have had friends,' Katie insisted.
'Not since he gave up work. For the first few years, some former workmates visited the house, to talk him into going out for a pint. Sometimes he would go, but only if he was already a bit drunk. Otherwise, he could never get ready - too many rituals.'
'So, you have no idea who this old friend who had a job for him might be?'
'No idea. But if a friend or a family member asked him for a favour, Archie would have tried his best to do it. He might have not always succeeded, but he did try. He was like that.'
Katie nodded to herself before asking, 'You said earlier Archie had only had two visitors on the day of his birthday party. How do you know?'
Mrs Weatherspoon made a short snorting noise. 'He only owns one plate, one cup, and one set of cutlery. If he needs anything else, he borrows it from me. And he washes it afterwards, although I told him multiple times, to put it in the dishwasher. But worse - he rinses it in some sort of disinfecting solution. So, I've asked him to put things he washed aside. And then I wash them in the dishwasher later. When I returned from my sister's there was a neat pile of dishes suggesting two visitors.'
Katie began to see a pattern in the late Mr Blackburn's behaviour...
That was more information than Katie could process. But was it of any use?
'What time is your train, Mrs Weatherspoon?'
'If I'm lucky, I can catch the one in half an hour. Thank you, dear.'
A sudden question popped in Katie's mind.
'Did Mr Blackburn have a car?'
'No. He couldn't drive, poor thing. He would walk everywhere except when he needed to travel further, when he would take his bike. Ah, one more thing, his bike is missing. It wasn't there in the room this morning, was it?'
'I didn't see it.'
'He kept it behind the sofa and always cleaned the handlebars with the hand sanitiser before using it. His room often smelled of the stuff. Sometimes, I would catch the odour from the hallway.'
It made sense.
'Mrs Weatherspoon, you'd better get going so you don't miss your train. I'll talk to the police.'
When Katie hung up, her head was buzzing. Archie Blackburn was an eccentric man, and something about his disappearance and probable death was making Katie think it was sinister.
Accident, my left foot!
5
She texted Jack and left a message on Chris' phone that she had the key to Mrs Weatherspoon's house and was available until 5 pm, when she had to pick Julia up from the school holiday programme. No matter how much she would like to be involved in snooping in Mr Blackburn's room, Katie's priority for tonight was to decorate her house for Christmas and spend quality time with her daughter.
After Katie reached her flat, she pulled Christmas decorations and a small, plastic tree from the big box under her bed. She dragged it into the hallway when her phone rang.
'Can you be at Mrs Weatherspoon's house in half an hour?' Jack asked simpl
y.
She could.
When she pulled up, Jack's silver Vauxhall was already there, parked behind a white, unmarked van.
The forensic team.
Jack climbed out of his car as soon as she locked hers.
'Have you identified the body?' Katie asked, fishing Mrs Weatherspoon’s house key from her handbag.
'Mr Archibald Blackburn,' Jack replied. Was there a hint of reluctance in his voice?
'So, I was right?'
'You were, indeed. I went with your hunch. His daughter identified the body, and the phone we found on him was registered under his name.'
'He had a phone on him and couldn't call for help?'
'No. It looks as though he died quite quickly.'
'What exactly happened?'
'We need-'
'I know,' she interrupted him. She shouldn't have asked the question; she could have supplied this answer herself. 'You need an autopsy.'
'Why did you even ask?'
'Just checking if you're still in the role,' she retorted and unlocked Mrs Weatherspoon's door. 'Here you are.' She moved aside to let him in.
'Ladies first. I'll cover your back,' he replied, adding a thin smile.
She led him into the kitchen, keen to receive an update. 'Can you at least tell me what you suspect was the mur-, pardon me, the way he died?'
Jack winced, no doubt on hearing the 'm-' word.
'Fatal head injury. He was killed by a badly fitted attic hatch, which fell on him, together with the ladder, parts of a heavy wooden frame and a couple of loose bricks.'
'How did it happen?'
'We're treating it as an accident at the moment, but we can't rule out the possibility someone might have tampered with the hatch.'
'Tampered? How?'
'Missing screws and nails, the constructions holding together on half-broken plastic ties.'
'Are you sure it was tampered with?'
'I’ll await the forensics report before giving the final verdict.'
Okay, DI Evidence...
'Did Mrs Weatherspoon bring you the postcard?'
'Yes, she did.'