“That’s disappointing,” Tamara said, reaching for a snack pack of dried fruit on the desk behind her. She began grazing on it, looking back expectantly. Eric felt nervous at having her undivided attention, so desperate was he to make a good impression.
“However, the serial number has flagged up. It was reported stolen in a burglary a couple of months ago, in Fakenham.” Both senior officers were surprised, exchanging glances. “A routine break-in. The house was turned over while the parents were on the school run. In and out in less than ten minutes. Text book.”
“Any leads on who did it?” Janssen asked. The case led nowhere. In the brief time where he was waiting for them to return, all he’d managed to locate was the file attached to the crime reference number. The case was considered open but not being actively investigated.
“No. Looks cold,” Eric replied. That was normal. Unless there were strong witnesses or someone being caught in the act, solving a break-in like this was unlikely. Burglars could well commit dozens, if not hundreds, of offences before being caught provided they were careful and didn’t overreach. “I’ll check the date with the school – see if Holly was absent – but somehow I don’t see her as the type.” He knew she wouldn’t have carried out the break-in but it was best practice to seek clarity.
“No, you’re right to check,” Tamara said, narrowing her eyes. “Although, she most likely knows the person who did. Anyone we know fit the frame?”
Eric looked between them, reluctant to sound like one of the narrow-minded bigots who lived in the area but it needed saying. It was obvious. “There is one particular family who are well known for this type of thing.”
“The McCalls.” The response from Janssen was a statement, not a suggestion. “From what we know of Mark, he isn’t the type either.”
“But… he is a McCall,” Eric replied. Janssen shot him a dark look and he realised he’d fallen into exactly the trap he sought to avoid. Seeking to reduce the damage, he thought fast. “We know Mark isn’t but what of his siblings?”
Janssen slowly nodded, appearing thoughtful. “The one brother, Bradley, is inside and the other is away with the army but you’re right. We can’t ignore her associations. Without linking her with anyone else we should look into it. Contact the local regiment. Find out where he’s stationed, if it’s close by or whether a period of leave corresponds with the burglary. Likewise, check what date Bradley was put away. He could have done it pre-sentencing when out on bail.”
“There’s also the other one, Clinton,” Eric reminded them. “He’s something of a tearaway too.”
“Let’s not be sexist either,” Tamara chipped in. “There’s a daughter as well, isn’t there?” She looked to Janssen and he in turn to Eric. He felt a little surge of pride.
“Sadie. She’s been picked up for shoplifting previously. Quite a recreational drug user as well but burglary would be a step up for her.” Tamara nodded her approval and he felt himself threatening to smile. Quelling the sense of satisfaction, he turned back to his desk.
“Any joy with tracking down the woman who made the allegations against Ken Francis?” Janssen asked.
“Not yet, no. She’s vanished but I’m working on it. Damned inconvenient!”
“Not for Ken,” Janssen replied, his tone belying his cynicism. “The one person who could shed some light on his character who isn’t married to him… or dead, and we can’t find her.”
“Hey, you don’t think…” Eric started but the words tailed off. He was often guilty of speaking out before forming the thought clearly in his mind. “She’s not the one… come up here to ruin Ken after the collapse of the case?” It didn’t sound as daft to him after he said it as it had whilst he was forming the idea. “Maybe I should check the local B&Bs and stuff, see if she’s registered. She would have a motive.” Both senior officers were looking at him and he suddenly felt self-conscious, as if he’d dropped a clanger. “Well, wouldn’t she?”
Tamara flicked a glance at Janssen who inclined his head. “Worth a shout. Good thinking. You crack on here, Eric. I think Tom and I will revisit Callum McCall’s place.”
“How do you want to play it?” Janssen asked. Eric was surprised. Tom was usually so decisive, always one to lead rather than following. There was something about the dynamic between these two. It would be interesting to watch it play out in the coming days.
“I’m open to suggestions,” she replied.
“I think we should execute a search warrant on their place.” She seemed surprised by Janssen’s idea. Eric wondered why that would be. “Callum isn’t going to allow us to look around without one. If we turn up anything suspect it will give us the ammunition to put the squeeze on them. If Callum feels he has something to lose, he may well open up. The same goes for his children. It’s about time someone in this case started talking.”
“Agreed,” she replied, smiling. Eric found himself perplexed by their exchange. There was something else beneath the surface, an unspoken communication perhaps. Watching the two of them interact was fascinating.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
By mid-afternoon the cloud had rolled back from the coast to reveal bright sunshine but hovered ominously over the North Sea, threatening to return at any moment. The wind was picking up from the south sucking warm continental air across the channel but with it came the potential approach of a storm front. Spring was tantalisingly close. The bluebells were out amongst the woods as Tom Janssen picked his way along the unmade track up to the McCall’s home, a sea of fleeting colour that would be gone in a fortnight. Tamara Greave was quiet alongside him and he felt comfortable not forcing conversation.
The warrant came through around three o’clock and a short discussion ensued regarding postponing the search until the morning,
