Ethan’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he glanced at the screen. ‘Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll catch up with you soon.’ He turned on his heel and left.
Will locked the screen on his computer and rose to leave.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked, looking at her watch.
‘The toilet. Now why don’t you put the kettle on while I shake hands with the old chap?’
Jennifer grimaced. ‘Too much information, Will, too much information.’
‘Is that the kettle going on?’ Zoe said. ‘You couldn’t make me a herbal tea, could you? I haven’t stopped this morning … talk about hitting the ground running.’ Easing her feet out of her kitten heels, she walked barefoot to Jennifer’s desk.
Jennifer found the box of teabags and plonked them beside the kettle. ‘Sure, although I think you’ll get more mileage out of coffee than nettle and mint.’
‘You’d be surprised what herbs can do,’ Zoe winked, tugging open the top button of her shirt. ‘The DI is looking very smart today, does he always dress like he’s going to the Academy Awards?’
Jennifer spooned out the coffee, warming to Zoe’s sense of humour. ‘He’s got a meeting with the command team, very secret squirrel.’
‘Well he’s outside, deep in conversation with Will, maybe he’s letting him in on the secret.’
‘Maybe,’ Jennifer said. She was going to say that Will was in the toilet, but stopped herself, not wanting to look a fool in front of the new starter. She squeezed out the teabag and walked over to the bin near the door, opening it enough so she could peep through the glass double doors in the hall, which led to the rear yard. She poked her head out to see Ethan and Will crossing the yard out of sight. There was something about it that made her uneasy. The last thing she wanted was to fall into the throes of paranoia, but Will was hiding something from her, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask what it was. She handed the cup over to Zoe, who had taken off her ill-fitting jacket and rested it on a chair.
‘Zoe,’ Jennifer said, sidling up to her. ‘Do you remember when we were introduced, you said that you could see I’d been possessed before? What did you mean by that?’
Zoe clicked her mouse, suddenly becoming very interested in her emails. ‘Really? I don’t remember.’
‘Well it’s kinda bothered me. I had some encounters before Christmas with an entity, but it didn’t go that far. The thing is, I can’t remember very much about what happened. Can you take a look, see if you pick up anything?’
Zoe’s eyes flickered to Jennifer before returning her gaze to the computer screen. ‘Sorry, babe, I can’t. I’m not allowed to use my skills on colleagues, only suspects.’
‘Really? Oh sorry, I must have misunderstood,’ Jennifer said, not believing a word.
Chapter Eight
Will straightened his jacket as he walked out into the sunshine, relieved to see Ethan still talking on his phone. He caught a glimpse of him and ended the call.
‘Sorry … er, guv, but have you got a minute?’ Will said, squinting against the sudden glare of the sun.
Ethan cracked a smile. ‘You don’t want to call me guv any more than I want to hear it. I’ve told you before. First name terms are fine. Now what can I do for you?’
‘It’s about Jennifer. I didn’t want to say anything in the office in case she might hear.’
Ethan nodded. ‘Sure. Walk with me.’
They crossed the rear yard as Will measured his words. ‘I’m a bit worried about this investigation Jennifer’s following. There’s a suspicion this guy could be dangerous, and after what happened the last time …’
Ethan clamped a hand on Will’s shoulder; making him wish he had more of the tall gene. ‘I understand your concerns but, as I said before, Jennifer’s a capable woman, we can’t mollycoddle her.’
Will balled his hands in his pockets. ‘I know that, but aren’t you worried it’s a bit soon?’
‘Frankly no, and you should give her more credit. I’ve been working with people like Jennifer for years. She’s a strong woman and I want to explore every inch of her potential.’
I bet you do, you cheesy bastard, Will thought, as he politely bade his inspector goodbye. Will had played down the importance of the letter to Jennifer, not wanting to worry her. The raven feather was enough for him to link the sender to the recent deaths of Alan Price and Felicity Baron. The fact it was addressed directly to Jennifer brought his protectiveness galloping in. He decided to make his own enquiries. It was not difficult to view the CCTV and see young Charlie Sutton, Haven’s most petty criminal, dropping in the envelope to front counter. Will knew exactly where he lived. The once splendorous Victorian homes in Florence Road had now been sold off to the housing authorities for the welfare families too large to accommodate elsewhere. Now decorated with outdoor sofas and rubbish bins, the overgrown gardens did little to showcase the dilapidated houses, neglected by the listless tenants within.
From an early age, Charlie Sutton’s parents were hoisting him into buildings and through cat flaps to assist with their burglaries. But his career as a cat burglar was short-lived as he hit his teens and grew into a sturdy block of a boy. Luckily for Charlie, there were several younger brothers willing to step into the role. Will rapped on the frosted glass door of the two-storey home, and the family’s Stafford Bull Terriers clawed against the inside of the glass, smudging it with an array of brown paw prints.
‘Shat uuuuuuppp! Rocky! Spike! Shaaat upppp!’ Ma Sutton’s voice thundered from inside, her considerable bulk shadowing the glass as she opened the door. ‘What do you want?’ she said, struggling to keep hold of the dogs’ thick black studded collars as their paws padded the air.
Will flashed his warrant card, his eyes on the dogs’ bared teeth as they fought for release. ‘I want a word with Charlie. He’s not in any trouble.’
A formidable woman, Ma Sutton flicked her beady eyes upstairs and back to Will. ‘It’s the filth,’ she shouted in the direction of the stairs. Footsteps scurried across the landing, like a nest of rats being poked with a stick.
Ma Sutton reluctantly allowed him inside, shoving the barking animals into a side room. ‘He’s in the kitchen,’ she sniffed. ‘And don’t go snooping around or I’ll have the dogs on ya.’
Will put his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat, and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He squeezed past the bikes in the hall, their handlebars ripping into what was left of the wallpaper. A mixture of aromas greeted him and the windows steamed from the meat boiling on a gas cooker. It intermingled with the stench of oil from the remnants of a motorbike engine on the newspaper-clad kitchen table.
Charlie fingered the metal parts with thick greasy hands. ‘See here, dad?’ he said, poking at a cog. ‘It’s loose, that’s what’s wrong.’
Charlie’s father rarely spoke. He just sat there with a dour expression, pinching tobacco into the thin cigarette papers with a well-practised hand.
‘Will-I-am. What are you doing here?’ Charlie said, staining his sweat-glistened forehead as he wiped it with the back of his hand. He swivelled in his chair, elbowing the small boy at the side of him. ‘Alfie, open the back door, it’s fucking boiling in here.’
Alfie scuttled from behind Charlie, and giving Will a cautious glance, opened the back door wide. A welcome gust of air blew in, scooping up the overpowering smells of bacon and oil and carrying them outside.
It was a short-lived respite as Charlie’s father stood up and, his eyes never leaving Will, slammed the door shut and locked it.
Will’s throat suddenly felt very dry and he swallowed hard. Mr Sutton was very protective of his family, and had assaulted officers previously with little warning.