Free The Cold Hand of Malice by Frank Smith Page A

couple of drawers, possibly in a fit of temper when they failed to find anything of value in them. Cost of repairs or replacement, if they had had them done, would amount to something like two, possibly three hundred pounds. I’ve left out the cost of repairs to the door because that was common to every burglary.
    ‘Now, look at the one in Abbey Road. Better neighbourhood and they came away with approximately forty pounds – the owner couldn’t be sure of the exact amount, but there was more damage. A TV set, fortunately an older one; a mirror, a clock and several telephones were all destroyed. Estimated cost of replacement approximately eight hundred and forty pounds. The owners are still arguing with their insurance company about the TV, but that figure isn’t far off.’
    Grace opened the third folder. ‘Westfield Lane. Similar neighbourhood. A few pounds taken – the owner couldn’t be sure how much, but said it wouldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen at the most – but nothing else was taken, even though there were a number of valuable items worth taking in full view. But the damage there came to well over twelve hundred pounds, and then they stopped to have a meal of sorts. It’s almost as if they are trying to tell us that they know they can take their time, and they have no fear of being caught.
    ‘Number four,’ Grace continued. ‘View Street. No money taken at all, but the damage was even more severe. They lashed out at everything as they went through the place, and I think Tregalles is right: the damage had become their prime objective. They’ve developed a taste for it. And once again they not only stopped to have a meal, they had a fry-up, a sit-down meal that would take time to prepare and eat. Once again, it looks to me as if they are thumbing their noses at us.
    ‘Then there was Holywell Street. According to the owners, they never leave money in the house, which may or may not account for the amount of damage they did there. You’ve seen it, Neil; they simply went mad. This time all they ate was half an apple pie, but just to make sure we got the message, they stopped long enough to make custard to go with it.
    ‘You see the pattern, Neil? The amount of damage has been escalating with each burglary. It goes up every time, except –’ Grace paused for effect – ‘except in this latest case.’
    She handed the last sheet to Paget. ‘Take a look. Very little in the way of cash. Mr Holbrook says his wife didn’t carry much in her handbag, but two very valuable rings are missing, her wedding and engagement rings, worth – and I verified this with the insurance company – just over twenty thousand pounds! There was other jewellery there to be taken, not much, but collectively it would have brought in a couple of thousand pounds, but it wasn’t touched. More significantly, it is the only place where jewellery of any value was taken.’
    ‘Which might suggest that there wasn’t anything of value in the other houses, and the thieves knew what was worth pinching and what wasn’t,’ Paget said.
    ‘That’s one explanation,’ Grace agreed, ‘but let me go on. I went round with the insurance adjuster this morning, and I asked him to give me his assessment of the damage, and his estimate of the cost of repair or replacement. Just the damage, not property loss such as the money taken from Mrs Holbrook’s handbag, or the rings. Take a guess at what he said.’
    Paget shook his head. ‘I haven’t the foggiest,’ he told her. ‘How much?’
    ‘Six hundred and twenty pounds! Even the picture they slashed was only a print worth about thirty pounds. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?’
    ‘Possibly,’ Paget said thoughtfully, ‘but on the other hand it might be because they decided to get out of the house as fast as they could after discovering and killing Mrs Holbrook.’
    Grace shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, ‘because the damage they did was in almost every