"You said uniform thought it might be a burglary gone wrong or a domestic," Tom said.
Reaching the landing, Cassie looked around. There were three doors off it. One was to a bathroom and the other two must be bedrooms. Neither of which would be very large.
"I don't see the former," she said, easing one door open to reveal a double bed. It was unmade, with the duvet cast back to the foot of the bed as if someone had thrown it open as they got out of bed. "The place is too tidy. Burglars are hardly ones to carefully pick through possessions – in and out in less than five minutes, turning everything upside down as they go. That's not what I'm seeing."
"Interrupted?"
"Nah. Not likely. All too calm. The victim is clean," she said, referring to his lack of injuries consistent with a struggle. "Aside from bleeding to death obviously,"
"All right. I'll have CSI sent over to you. They'll be earning their money this week."
Cassie stepped back from the bedroom, pushing open the door to the second bedroom. This one was much smaller, sharing its floor area with the adjacent bathroom. There was a single bed pushed against one wall. This one was fully made up. The duvet was pink with a colourful unicorn on the front standing beneath a rainbow with a cast of other horses in the background. Several cuddly toys were placed alongside one another at the foot of the bed, with more on the floor in the far corner of the room. Cassie wondered if there was a missing child they should be concerned about but, as she searched the room, it didn't look like somewhere that was occupied all of the time. It was too neat, too tidy, much like the rest of the house. They would need to check with the neighbours though, just in case.
"There's something about this that doesn't add up, Tom," she said, shaking her head, having almost forgotten Tom was still on the phone.
"How so?"
"I think the victim had company yesterday," she said. "It could be a domestic argument gone bad, but…"
"But what?"
"I don't know," she said after a moment of reflection. "Just… something. Leave it with me," she said, retreating from the child's bedroom and entering the bathroom. A bath towel was on the floor and another was hanging on a hook alongside the shower. There was a floor mat beside the shower and it still looked damp. She could tell because it was a pastel colour and the damp patches showed. If the victim, or guest, showered yesterday prior to the murder then it leaned towards late afternoon. Maybe they both showered or the killer cleaned up before they left. She looked for telltale spots of blood on the floor, towels or basin, but there were none to be seen.
"Do you have a name for the victim?" Tom asked.
"Unconfirmed as yet, but we think it's the resident, Adrian Gage. He's not known to us, though."
Cassie heard a sharp intake of breath. It was so stark that it grabbed her attention. She waited but Tom didn't speak, all she could hear was his breathing.
"Tom?"
"Yes… yes, I'm here."
Something in his tone piqued her curiosity.
"Do you know him?"
"No. Not personally, but… well, I sort of know him."
"Who is he then?"
"He's Alice's ex-husband."
Chapter Seven
The lane leading down to the old quay opened out at a small car park positioned almost in the shadow of the windmill. Tom Janssen got out of the car, feeling the gentle breeze against his face coming at him across the wetlands of Blakeney Reserve. The breeze passing through the reeds sounded like a thousand voices asking you to be quiet in harmony. Tamara's hair swept across her face and she tried to tuck it behind her ears, but her efforts were largely a waste of time. Her eyes were drawn across to the harbour and the point beyond. She pointed in the direction of the harbour mouth.
"Is that where you found Mary Beckett?"
"Yes, just the other side of the dunes there," he said, narrowing his eyes due to the glare of the sun.
"One heck of a coincidence. Two bodies in the space of twenty-four hours."
Tom chewed on his lower lip. It certainly was. However, for the life of him he couldn't figure out how these cases might be linked. The two victims seemed the polar opposite of one another in every conceivable measure, from age demographic to professional and social circles. Although he wouldn't rule anything out. When it came to murder, sometimes the most implausible became probable once the investigation shaped up.
"Beautiful place," Tamara said.
"A hidden gem of the north coast."
They walked the short distance to where uniform had set up a cordon, at the entrance to the windmill complex. For a number of years, the windmill, along with the ancillary buildings, had been run as holiday accommodation on a not-for-profit basis to aid the upkeep of the windmill itself, which was maintained in superb condition and a famous local landmark. Adrian Gage's house was not one of these but could be accessed via a narrow pathway, passing through the complex, leading to a managed route through the salt marshes beyond and on to the coast, popular both with locals and walkers alike.
Word of their arrival spread and Cassie appeared from one of the buildings to meet them. The owners of the site had allowed the police to bring their CSI vehicles and equipment as close as possible, hence the cordon being established where it was. Some of the village residents were standing nearby, probably just as surprised as the investigation
