IMPURITY Ray Clark (types of ebook readers .txt) 📖

“About what?”

“The flat next door to her. She was complaining about us moving boxes in and out, as usual.” Olive quickly turned to Mabel. “But she’s not bothered about the noise when she’s entertaining, is she, Mabel? No. She’s quick to complain when it suits her, that one. I’ll be glad to see the back of her, and no mistake.”

“What happened after you heard the banging?”

“I went up the stairs, and shouted to Herbert,” replied Olive Bradshaw. “Asked him if he was all right. He didn’t reply.”

For the first time, Gardener noticed an expression of guilt on the landlady’s face. He had never come across anyone who changed their moods so quickly. She was impossible to read.

“You heard a crash but no raised voices. He gave no reply to your inquiry. Did you shout again? Or try his door?”

“I tried the door, but it was locked.”

Gardener struggled to believe she would let such an incident go by uninvestigated. Especially with someone she was sleeping with. “That’s it? You weren’t concerned? A sixty-year-old man on his own? He could have had an accident, may have needed your assistance. We’re talking about a man you had a relationship with. You must have felt the impulse to do something, surely?”

She grew defensive. “As I’ve already said, Inspector, I wasn’t his keeper. He liked a drink. I thought he might have been drinking, knocked something over. We were late for bingo.”

“I see.” Gardener paused. “So, you just left? You were late for bingo, so you didn’t hang around to see if he eventually opened his door?”

“No.”

Gardener locked eyes with Olive. “Or, in fact, if someone else opened his door?”

Chapter Forty-four

Nicki Carter was hesitant with her answer. “I’ve seen him. Don’t know him, but I’ve seen him.”

“Where?” Gardener studied the girl. The bruise under her left eye had disappeared. Her clothes were cleaner than the last time they’d met. She was wearing a white T-shirt with blue denim jeans. The flat was cleaner. The fresh smell of lavender polish hung in the air. The baby was once again with Nicki’s mother. Gardener wondered what the reason was. “Come on, Nicki, I have to know.”

“Outside school.”

“Which one?” Gardener’s patience was wearing thin. Everywhere he went, people had half-stories to tell him. They only seemed to tell him what they wanted. No one took anything seriously. As if they were all playing games. “Was he with anyone?”

“Middle school, near Old Lane.” She didn’t answer his second question. It was obvious she was holding something back. Nicki Carter nervously lit a cigarette.

“Who was he with?”

After a pause, she replied. “The pervert, Plum.”

Frustrated, Gardener sighed. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that before?”

The girl was anxious, rubbing her hands together in circles. “You never asked.”

Gardener fumed. “The last time we spoke, you said Plum was a pervert. The man in the photo-fit is wanted for questioning in connection with the missing schoolchildren. We know these two had an allegiance. You knew about it, but never mentioned it. Why?”

“He were dead, for God’s sake. I didn’t think it mattered. The bastard got what were coming to him anyway.”

“That’s not the point! You withheld important information from me. If you’d told me two weeks ago, we might have got to the bottom of this and had people charged. You’re damned lucky I don’t charge you with obstructing the course of justice.” Gardener was so pissed off, he felt like arresting all of them. Nicki Carter, Olive Bradshaw and her sister, and Summers. The whole fucking lot.

“I’m sorry.” Nicki Carter took a drag on her cigarette.

He didn’t really think she was.

“Why were you at the school?”

“Collecting me sister. Me mother were busy.”

“So,” said Gardener, trying to calm down. “You saw Plum and Felix together. Doing what?”

“Nothing. Just hanging round the gates. When Plum saw me, he said summat to the other bloke, and they both left.”

Gardener changed the subject. “We’ve been speaking to Olive Bradshaw.”

“What’s wrong with that old bag, now?”

“She said you’d had a disagreement the night Herbert Plum was killed. You never told us that either. What was it about?”

“Same as always. Odd noises coming from next door. All sodding hours. She’s another one who doesn’t care how much bloody noise she makes.”

Gardener hunched his shoulders as he felt a cold draft skate across the back of his neck. He turned, noticed an open window. “Did you hear anything on the landing above? Voices? Crashing furniture?”

“No. Can’t say I did.”

“So, you heard nothing. Olive Bradshaw indicated it happened around 6:30pm. Did you hear anything afterwards? Like his door closing? Someone running down the stairs?”

“No. I’ve said, the bairn were upset most of the night. So, I were seeing to him.”

Gardener was ready to scream. Couldn’t someone give him something to go on?

Chapter Forty-five

Back down the stairs, Gardener knocked on Olive Bradshaw’s door. No answer came. He glanced at his watch. “I don’t believe it. Where the hell are they now?” The whole scenario was really starting to infuriate him. “Come on,” he said to Reilly. “Let’s go.”

Gardener strode down the path, determined to find answers to his questions. He unlocked the car and was about to open the door when a familiar throbbing sound to his left diverted his attention. A man riding a motorbike pulled up opposite them, killed the engine, and rested the Bonneville on its side stand.

“Look at that!” said Gardener to his partner.

“Is that the same as yours?”

“Give or take a few years.”

Gardener strolled over. The rider removed his helmet and nodded. Gardener envied the bike, wondering if his would ever match the one in front of him. The Triumph was in pristine condition, shined like a pin,