‘Can’t argue with that.’ Jane smiled, as everyone in the CID knew the Hillmans stuck out like a sore thumb.
‘Do you work locally?’
‘Yes. I’m a detective sergeant at Bromley.’
‘Not far to travel for work, then.’
‘Thankfully, no.’
He unscrewed the drop cap and asked Jane for the torch so he could examine the wires inside.
‘As I suspected, the bulb’s blowing because there’s a loose connection in the cap, which is causing an arc to jump across the contact rather than flowing through it.’
‘Is it a big job to repair it?’ Jane asked, wondering how much it might cost.
‘No. I just need to reconnect the live wire.’ He got a small screwdriver from the toolbox and secured the wire. ‘Do you have a spare bulb?’
She held up the blown bulb. ‘This was the last one I had.’
‘I came prepared.’ He smiled, removing a spare bulb from his toolbox and fitting it in the cap. He switched the main fuse on and tested the hallway light, which lit up instantly. ‘There you go... nice and bright now.’
‘Thank you so much. Are you an electrician?’
‘No. I’m a retired cab driver. But I’ve learned a lot about electrics and plumbing doing up my house over the years. Sorry to say this, but your fuse box and wiring is very old. I’d say it was fitted when the house was built in the mid-Thirties.’
‘Is it dangerous? The last thing I want is for the house to catch fire.’
‘You’d be best to get a qualified electrician to look at it. Edith, who lived here before you, was in her eighties and didn’t bother to update anything after her husband died twenty years ago.’
Jane nodded. ‘The estate agent did mention an elderly lady lived here for nearly forty years.’ Jane knew the house had been offered at a well-below-market price due to its antiquated state. It would have been sensible to get a full survey done, but she couldn’t afford it.
‘Poor Edith got dementia before she died.’
‘In a care home?’ Jane asked.
‘No, she had a heart attack in the living room. I had a key for the place and used to check on her a couple of times a day. Walked in to find her slumped in the armchair and cold as ice. Mind you, she made it to eighty-two, so it wasn’t a bad innings.’
‘Funnily enough, the estate agent never mentioned that,’ Jane said, unhappy at the thought that someone had died in the house.
‘I bet you see a lot of dead bodies as a detective,’ he said cheerily.
‘Quite a few. It’s all part of the job.’
‘Rather you than me, dear. Right, I’d best be off and let you get some shut-eye. You must pop round for a drink and meet Vi,’ he said, before picking up the ladder and toolbox.
Jane opened the front door. ‘That would be nice, thank you.’
‘Any time you like... our door is always open.’
‘Goodnight, Gerry.’ As she closed the door, she wondered if she should have offered him some money for fixing the light, but thought he’d probably have refused. She decided to buy Gerry a nice bottle of wine and drop it off the following day.
She looked at her watch and sighed. It was nearly nine and she still hadn’t started her report.
Having washed and changed into her pyjamas, Jane went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. ‘God, this kitchen is old and tatty,’ she said to herself, looking at the dripping sink tap and skew-whiff cabinet doors. She needed something to cheer herself up and got one of Father Chris’s kwarezimal biscuits from the tin. Taking a bite, it reminded her how delicious the meal he cooked had been. It had certainly changed her mind about soup being a boring starter. She’d love to be more adventurous in her own cooking and couldn’t remember the last time she’d entertained someone at home, other than her parents. She’d only cooked meals for herself in her new home and wondered if she should invite someone over for a meal.
Jane set down her glass of wine and got her typewriter out of the cupboard, then sat down at the living-room table, opened her notebook, and started typing her report. Although she was a fast typist, Jane took her time, making sure her report was well written and contained all the relevant facts to assist DCS Barnes in making his decision about the next step in the investigation.
It was nearly two in the morning before she finished, feeling exhausted. She put the report in a folder and went straight to bed. Setting the alarm for six, she regretted not letting Boon deal with the arrest of Barry the builder, as it would have allowed her a couple more hours in bed before the meeting with Barnes. It wasn’t long before she was in a deep sleep.
When the alarm sounded, Jane felt nauseous and struggled to get out of bed. After a tepid shower, she put on a smart two-piece grey suit, a dark blue blouse with a bow at the neck and grey court shoes. Pushed for time, Jane had a quick breakfast of tea and toast then grabbed her briefcase, hurried out of the door and drove to the old convent building site.
Boon was already waiting in an unmarked car with two plainclothes crime squad officers when Jane arrived. He got out of the Hillman Hunter and went to speak with her.
‘Morning, sarge. You are looking very smart this morning. Anyone would think you’ve got an important meeting,’ he grinned.
‘I didn’t finish my report until two, so I’m not in the mood for any jokes. How many radios have you got?’
‘One in the car and a portable as well.’
‘Tell the two lads with you to park up the road out of sight. Bring one of the radios and jump in with me.’
‘I thought you wanted backup?’
‘I do, but the Hillman sticks out as a police car. If Barry sees it, he might turn round and drive off. I can park my car round the back of the workmen’s hut, then if Barry tries to leg it we can radio the others to block him off.’
‘But he might not even turn up for work.’
‘I know, but we need to speak to the site manager first to find out whether he has or not.’
‘OK, I’ll be back in a second.’ He rushed back to the Hillman to speak to his colleagues and quickly returned. Once in Jane’s car, he made a call on the radio.
‘Papa Romeo from DC Boon... this is a test call... are you receiving... over.’
‘Yes, signal loud and clear... control over.’
‘Received.’ He turned to Jane: ‘The late-shift detective left a note for you in the office message book. Dr Pullen rang yesterday evening and asked you to call her this morning.’
‘Did she leave a number?’
‘Yes, I jotted it down for you.’ Boon started to rummage in his trouser and jacket pockets. ‘I could have sworn I...’
Jane shook her head, ‘You’ve lost it, haven’t you?’
‘I’m sure it’s here somewhere...’
‘Don’t bother. I’ll call the office later for it.’
Approaching the site, Jane noticed the lights were on in the Portakabin and the white Transit van was outside.
‘Looks like the foreman might be here already,’ Boon remarked, as Jane parked next to the Transit.
‘It could be Dermot,’ Jane suggested.
‘Nah, he drove off in an Astra yesterday,’ Boon told her. ‘Isn’t that the man who lives in the old chapel?’
Jane looked towards the garden wall that led to the site. ‘Where, I can’t see him?’
Boon pointed. ‘Over there... he just came out of the builders’ hut with his dog.’
Jane saw he looked angry about something. But his expression instantly turned to a smile when he saw them getting out of the car.
‘Good morning, officers. How are you both today?’
‘Good morning. Everything all right? Jane asked.
‘I was just asking the site foreman what was happening about the coffin, as some of the residents are a bit concerned. He wasn’t very helpful. Are you able to tell me what’s going on?’