Chapter 32
‘Tom will be here soon. I’ve got a rush job. Come in two hours, and you can borrow him for an hour,’ Sean O’Reilly said.
Larry arrived at O’Reilly’s on time. Tom Wellings was just finishing the rush order, although his speed was anything but a rush. The man moved calmly and with purpose. Larry noted that once he had completed one task, he would tidy before moving on to the next.
‘Five minutes,’ Wellings said.
‘That’s fine.’
Sue Baxter had been forewarned that they would be coming. She worked only five minutes from the house, and their visit would coincide with her lunch break. It had been some time since she had seen a policeman at her house, and she had hoped no more would be coming. The uniformed police outside on the street maintaining vigilance over the crime scene had long gone, as had the tape across the door into the murder room.
The Baxters had been given access to the room and had set to work to bring it up to the standard of the rest of the house.
Larry had been impressed when he walked through the front door. ‘You’ve done a great job,’ he said.
‘Thank you, DI Hill,’ Sue Baxter said proudly. Ted Hunter, the handyman who had made the grim discovery, had shown himself to be a competent man, although, as Sue Baxter’s husband would have said, ‘He still overcharged us.’
Not that the complaint would have been too forceful, as Sue Baxter, ever anxious, had phoned a local estate agent for a valuation. With booming prices in the area and the agent’s determination to put it on the market, he had given them a good price, one hundred thousand pounds over what they had paid for the house and its renovation.
Sue enthusiastically had wanted to list the house immediately. It had been her husband who had said no. A renovation of a small house in Manchester, and a larger one in London, was enough for him, and besides, the house was still a crime scene.
‘I doubt if we are allowed to sell it yet,’ he had said. He knew it was probably not correct, but it sufficed.
‘Okay,’ his wife had said, and besides, she loved the house and the neighbourhood.
Larry preceded Tom into the house. ‘This is Tom Wellings,’ Larry said, introducing him to Sue Baxter.
‘You’ve done a great job here, Mrs Baxter,’ Wellings said.
‘Thank you.’
Larry noticed the photos lining the hallway that showed the transformation from neglected and unwanted to loved and homely.
All three entered the murder room. The walls had been painted, the floorboards had been sanded and varnished. The centrepiece of the room, the fireplace, was resplendent in its glory.
‘It gives the room character,’ Sue Baxter said.
It gave Larry a chill down his back thinking about what had lain there for thirty years. Sue Baxter, despite her initial aversion when the body had been found, made no reference to the death and the mummified corpse. Larry assumed that if she could, she would have a photo of the body up on the wall in the hallway.
‘Tom has worked for the company that installed the grille over the door for over thirty years,’ Larry said.
‘Closer to fifty,’ Tom Wellings replied. He was a man with an uncluttered mind. He did not fill his mind with considering the world situation, politics, and the state of the economy. He had gone through life ensuring he had enough money in his pocket to keep a roof over his head, clothe, and feed himself, nothing more. It had given him the ability to remember trivial details that others had forgotten.
‘We fitted the bars on the window,’ he said.
‘We took them down,’ Sue Baxter said. ‘Aesthetically they were not right.’
‘Oversize. We used what we had in stock.’
‘You remember, Tom?’ Larry asked.
‘Business was quiet. Old man Dennison had laid off a couple of people, so I helped out here.’
Larry had to take a seat. Here, encompassed within this man, was the first positive lead into the murder of Garry Solomon for some time.
‘What do you remember?’ Larry asked.
‘It was a long time ago. It may need a cup of tea for me to remember.’
‘I’ll get you one,’ Sue said. ‘No more speaking until I come back.’
Larry wanted to continue with Tom, but the man was adamant. ‘When she comes back,’ he said.
Larry only hoped he could prevent her from talking to the media again.
‘I’m all ears,’ Sue Baxter said on her return. She should have been back at the school where she taught, but there was no way she was going to be prised out of the chair she was sitting in.
Tom sat, content with his cup of tea.
‘Would you like to continue?’ Larry asked. ‘I’ll record this if it’s okay.’
‘Fine by me,’ Tom said. He appeared to appreciate the attention.
Larry placed his iPhone on the coffee table and hit record.
‘We fitted the bars first. We had made a miscalculation, and I had to cut a little off one side.’
‘Who let you into the house?’ Larry asked.
‘I’m coming to that,’ Tom said.
‘Please, carry on,’ Sue Baxter said. She was excited, almost wetting herself from what Larry could see.
‘It took us a couple of hours to install the bars. I used Ramset bolts to hold them in place.’
‘We had trouble taking some out, so we just plastered over them.’ Sue Baxter said.
‘The grille?’ Larry asked.
‘It was awkward to carry, and we had trouble manhandling it into place.’
‘Why were you installing the grille?’ Larry asked.
‘We received an order and the man paid up front.’
‘It was a man?’
‘I remember him. A tall man. He spoke well.’
‘His name?’
‘I don’t remember him ever giving it to us, although he gave us all a tip
