Condemned R.C. Bridgestock (good fiction books to read TXT) 📖

to contact them – she had been dealing with them. Unsuccessful, I personally visited the house. I was quite determined to get the matter sorted as soon as possible.’ Raglan’s head bobbed up and down, and quickly he placed his hand on his neck to stop the uncontrollable tic, ‘but they didn’t answer the door.’

‘Didn’t you contact the police?’

Raglan’s head swung from side to side. ‘No, no, it wasn’t a matter for your officers. However, a bad business decision on our part, and I promise you we didn’t give up easily.’ With a clenched fist he weakly banged on the desk. ‘I wasn’t going to be beaten by those two scoundrels.’

‘What happened?’ said Charley, clearly unimpressed.

‘I eventually caught up with them one evening. I saw a light in the house one night as I was driving home. I stopped. Knocked on the door, and when no one answered, I looked through the one of the windows at the back and I could see them sitting together, watching the TV. I banged on the door again and when they didn’t answer, I rapped on the window. Mr Dixon came to the door eventually. He didn’t invite me in, instead he kept me on the doorstep. He told me that they intended to leave the next morning, and to be perfectly honest, I was glad to hear it. The last thing the owners wanted was squatters. They want the house sold, gone.’

‘What of all the money they owed? The owners of the property must have been expectant?’ said Charley.

‘Mr Dixon told me that if I wanted money, we would have to sue him because he didn’t have it. He became aggressive, and well—’ Raglan rubbed his neck, the tic was obviously disturbing him, too, ‘—he didn’t come across as the sort of man you’d want to argue with, if you know what I mean. Especially late at night. I told him that I would be back the next morning with a locksmith to change the locks, and they’d better be gone, and that’s how I left it.’

‘Where are the cheques now?’ asked Charley, holding his gaze.

Raglan screwed up his face. ‘I wouldn’t know.’ His eyes dropped to the file, and with what appeared to be shaking hands, he rummaged through the paperwork, but the cheques were nowhere to be seen.

Mike’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can’t believe that without further hassle they left, just like that,’ he said, ‘and you just let them?’

‘Well, they did.’ Mr Raglan mopped his forehead with the neatly-folded handkerchief which he had extracted from his shirt pocket.

‘Without any further arguments the Dixons left, just like that?’ repeated Mike. ‘Doesn’t that seem odd to you? Given Mr Dixon’s previous aggression and their evasiveness.’

‘Well it did, but then they’d had free accommodation for the time they were here, and lucky for us we had a new interest in Crownest from James Thomas, at JT Developments, who had heard that the planning permission that they had sought, and had previously been declined, had now been passed in principle. And, although the Dixons had done some damage inside the property, this didn’t matter to him because JT Developments had only one thing on their mind, and that was its demolition.’

‘How coincidental,’ said Charley.

‘You didn’t think to report the crime then?’ asked Mike.

Raglan looked Mike straight in the eye. ‘What was the point? It would hardly be top priority for the police, would it? I didn’t want adverse publicity, and this time the purchase went through very quickly because it was a cash sale. I’ve learnt that sometimes it’s better to put certain things down to experience, move on, and learn from it. I’m sure you’ll learn that too, given time.’

Charley ignored the remark, although she conceded it to be true. ‘The evening before the Dixons left, was this the last time you visited the house?’

‘Yes. I’ve had no reason to go to the house since. I have people who do the day-to-day stuff.’ Jonathan Raglan closed the file, sat back in his chair, took a deep breath, and sighed deeply again. ‘Now, is that all?’

Mike shuffled to the edge of his chair, scratching his head. ‘There’s just one thing that is bugging me,’ he said.

Raglan frowned.

‘I’ve heard you’re a shrewd businessman. You’ve been here for what, two decades?’

Raglan nodded as he held himself stiffly.

‘When I’ve looked at Brad Dixon’s convictions, I can see that he was charged with burglary at these very business premises some years back, and yet you didn’t feel the need to mention this to us either?’

Chapter 16

Raglan straightened up and frowned. ‘I might be old, but I’m not senile yet. I can’t recall that incident. Are you certain?’

Charley nodded her head, something akin to suspicion in her eyes. ‘Yes, we are. It’s strange that you can’t remember. You haven’t had a burglary since, have you? Or, if you have, it hasn’t been reported to the police.’

The old man’s jaw clenched, emotion flared behind his eyes, he let out a long puff of air, and opened his eyes, blinking hard purposely it seemed, to clear his mind. Now, falling back heavily in his chair he appeared to be somewhat breathless. ‘No, no we haven’t. Well I must say, you’ve taken the wind right out of my sails. I didn’t make the connection. Who’d have thought it? There you go!’ He paused.

At Mike’s look, he continued. ‘As you can appreciate, I have the reputation of the business to think of,’ he said, more quietly.

‘Yes, and you will appreciate, Mr Raglan, we have two murders to investigate at a property for which you are the sole agents. It goes without saying that we too have a reputation, but ours is for ascertaining the truth.’ Charley’s tone shifted. ‘If people deliberately lie to us, then that may be classed as an obstruction, and that’s extremely unhelpful in any enquiry, let alone something as serious as murder.’

Raglan had the grace to look suitably ashamed. ‘I understand.’ The tic on his neck pulsed frantically.