Annie shrugged her shoulders, and stuffed a chocolate bar in her mouth.
Charley took off her suit jacket and reached behind her to hang it on the end of the radiator. She paused. ‘Maybe something was holding up the sale, and the sellers, presumably the benefactors of Adam Alderman’s estate, didn’t want to lose their buyers?’
Annie chewed the chocolate-covered toffee bar, her eyes rolling back into her head, her expression indicating she was chewing as fast as she possibly could so she could carry on the conversation.
Charley leaned forward, put her elbows on her desk and her chin in her hands and looked at Annie, expectantly, ‘In your own time.’
Annie swallowed hard. ‘Apparently, according to Miss Finch at the estate agents, the buyers claimed to be chasing references, and it was taking forever! When the estate agent pushed the buyers for a completion date, at the seller’s insistence, it was suggested by the buyers that they rent the property in the meantime to show their commitment.’
Annie slid the estate agent’s brochure for Crownest across the desk. Charley picked it up. It was obvious to her that the cover photograph had purposely been taken from an angle that would not capture the masses of colourful graffiti on the boarded-up windows, or the crumbling ruins which had proved to be such an irresistible attraction to the unidentified youths, whom it was believed had caused the fires and the subsequent damage.
Charley’s whistle was long and low. ‘It’s no wonder the sellers were willing to do whatever it took to avoid the sale falling through if the buyers offered them anything near that asking price!’
‘My thoughts exactly! Sadly, it also appears that the sellers were extremely eager to raise as much money as possible from the sale, as a deal with a local property mogul had collapsed due to a planning application being refused, which would have seen the demolition of the building to build several houses on the plot. It was against the advice of the estate agent to allow the Dixons to move in, they say. I guess the sellers thought the deal with the Dixons would go through, eventually.’ Annie paused for a moment and took a sip of her coffee. ‘Of course, they’d have the added bonus of the rent money.’
‘But you’d have thought that alarm bells would have rung for all concerned when no references were forthcoming from the Dixons, wouldn’t you? The sellers must be very trusting.’
Annie nodded. ‘Or stupid! Especially as the agent told me that when she met with the Dixons at the property, when she returned to the office she discovered that her purse and mobile phone had mysteriously disappeared from her jacket pocket.’
Charley cocked her head. ‘Really? Did she report it?’
Annie shook her head. ‘She claims she didn’t put two and two together until it became obvious that the Dixons had fled.’
Charley ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Good Lord…’ she drawled. ‘What do we know about the Dixons?’
‘Intel tells us that Brittany and baby-faced Brad, as he is known, are actively being sought by the police for a string of undetected armed robberies across the country, where firearms have been discharged. They are a would-be modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.’
‘They sound delightful! Do we know this for sure?’
‘Yes, absolutely, thanks to Forensics who have provided indisputable evidence to prove that these two are indeed the culprits of these crimes.’
‘Is there anything else our intelligence can enlighten us with?’
Annie thumbed through her paperwork ready to discuss the pair’s modus operandi. ‘Brittany is the elder of the two by seven years,’ she read. ‘Her criminal record is relatively unremarkable compared to her husband’s.’ Annie held up a piece of paper between her forefinger and thumb and passed it to Charley. ‘According to this précis, we know they have carried out a string of robberies together, whilst both being in possession of firearms and discharging them during the raids, apparently to scare people.’ Annie lifted her head up from the next document she was reading. ‘Whilst they haven’t actually shot anyone, one shop owner in our area is known to have died of a heart attack six weeks after being confronted by the pair.’
‘Can we attribute the shop owner’s death to the robbery?’
Annie’s lips formed a straight line, and she shook her head. ‘Sadly, no. Not according to the report anyway.’
Briefly Charley closed her eyes. ‘Go on.’
‘They’ve both served a prison sentence since, but it doesn’t look like that has changed their outlook, or broken the strong bond between them either.’
‘How d’ya know?’
Annie took a sip of her coffee and coughed out a laugh. ‘Well, last time they appeared in court, the prosecution is said to have described them as ‘takers’ who preyed on others, simply to finance their own lifestyle.’
‘Disputed by the pair, I imagine?’
‘No, quite the contrary!’
‘Then why would they slum it renting at Crownest? It hardly looks like a comfortable residence without some serious renovation work.’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps because it’s out of the way?’
‘Maybe. What troubles me is that they have discharged their firearms. If they had no intention of using them, then why not brandish an imitation gun? Just as effective in scaring people, I would imagine.’
‘Dunno. Maybe they wanted to make sure that people knew they were serious?’
‘Well I’m sure they achieved that.’
Charley sat for a moment in silence, alone with her thoughts. It felt warm and cosy in her office, and as day turned to night, the snow started to fall steadily again. Researching Crownest on the net had stirred a passion to discover more about the house which had intrigued her since she was a child. It was all-consuming, and extremely interesting. According to the writer and local historian, an elderly lady by the name of Josie Cartwright, the house, she read, had never managed to become the loving family home it was originally intended to be by its creator, the wealthy mill owner and landowner,
