Free Bleed Like Me by Cath Staincliffe Page B

mostly cheap, the soft furnishings too. The kitchen/living area looked as though it had been fitted twenty years ago or more, the sandy brown worktop fraying along the edge with water damage. The room had smelled of dog and a faint whiff of gas. Tiling behind the counter top in cream and flecks of burnt orange, every so often a feature tile, a picture of a tree. The rustic feel circa 1980s.
    Other things were newer, the flat-screen televisions and the computer. And the clothing that Gill had seen all looked in good condition.
    ‘The pub wasn’t doing much of a turnover,’ Pete said.
    Smoking ban, people drinking at home.
    ‘Should have tried a sports bar,’ Kevin said. ‘Massive screen. Course, you’ve got the outlay—’
    ‘Kevin.’ Gill yanked his lead, stopped him wittering on. Kevin was Gill’s crown of thorns. Struggling to make the grade and Gill had sworn she’d knock him into shape. It was just taking way longer than she’d anticipated.
    ‘There were rumours on house-to-house it was losing money,’ Rachel pointed out. ‘There’s no work on the Larks; his clientele’s mainly benefit drinkers.’
    Pete said, ‘I spoke to the brewery. They were talking about pulling the plug after New Year. Tenancy is up for renewal then. Informed Cottam by registered letter, which he received on the thirtieth of September.’
    ‘Something like that could be a trigger?’ Gill said.
    Leonard nodded. ‘Definitely.’
    ‘He’d debts too,’ Pete said. ‘Credit cards – only paying off the interest. Payday loans.’
    ‘Owen was owing.’ Kevin grinned, looked round the room for a response. Got a scoff and rolling eyes from Rachel, a slow blink from Janet and a shake of the head from Lee. ‘Rhymes, doesn’t it?’ Kevin, crap at reading the signs, dug his hole even deeper.
    ‘Kevin,’ Andy said wearily.
    ‘What was he spending it on?’ Gill asked Pete.
    ‘Clothes, food, essentials, nothing flash. Utility bills. His car’s six years old, pick one up for six grand.’
    ‘Still – it’s a Mondeo,’ Mitch said. ‘Lot of car for the price.’
    ‘Tells us what?’ Gill said, not wanting them to get into a Top Gear riff. Mitch was mad about cars.
    ‘Not flash,’ Andy said, ‘but he’s looking at reasonable quality.’
    ‘Anything flash round the Larks and it’d soon disappear,’ Rachel said.
    ‘The family had a holiday to Minorca in May, not paid that off yet,’ Pete added.
    ‘He was already in debt by then?’ Janet asked.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ Pete said.
    ‘Keeping up appearances,’ said Lee. ‘He had to be seen to be providing for his family. He’ll keep the illusion going as long as possible.’
    That would tally with the clothes, Gill thought. People would see the kids well dressed and assume the household were managing well.
    Janet raised her pen and addressed Leonard Petty. ‘What’s he feeling then, about things going down the drain?’
    ‘Shame and anger. This is his responsibility. Any failure in that regard would be excruciating for him. He won’t admit to anyone it’s happening. He feels outraged, betrayed that his livelihood is on the line. It’s common enough: the recession, businesses folding, layoffs, but as far as this man is concerned it’s his problem and his alone. He’s been singled out, his status about to be destroyed, his self-esteem undermined.’
    ‘Even for us,’ Gill said. Numbers in the police force were going to be cut in an effort to make savings. At what cost, she thought? As people became poorer, more desperate, as unemployment increased, crime would rise, with fewer officers to deal with it all. Crime stats had been falling. It was something she was proud to be associated with, but the future was far more uncertain.
    ‘Did we find a will?’
    ‘Yes,’ Andy said. ‘They both had one. Standard stuff – spouse inherits and then the children.’
    ‘Okay. Moving on to our crime scenes,’ Gill said, ‘we’re awaiting further forensics but already we can