Free Bricks and Mortality: Campbell & Carter 3 by Granger Ann Page B

hasn’t topped himself somewhere. He wouldn’t do that to me. Anyway, he wasn’t depressed. Work has been slow recently, from his point of view, perhaps. But he’s confident another job will come along. If you’re self-employed it’s like that. I work for Briskett’s bank and so there is regular money coming in. Matt’s work is well paid. It’s just not a monthly salary like mine.’
    Jess changed tack. ‘So tell me if there is anything at all that Matt’s been doing recently that’s a change to the usual pattern?’
    Sarah hesitated. ‘He’s had a bit of time on his hands, as I said. He didn’t want to hang round the flat. We’re hoping to buy a place of our own. We’d like an old traditional house in the country somewhere round here, near enough for me to drive in to work and with pleasant quiet surroundings for Matt to do his work. The trouble with our flat is that it’s noisy. The road outside is busy; it’s on a bus route. The other people in the house, other residents, are always coming and going. The flat’s not very big and rather dark and we don’t have a garden. You can see why we’d like to move somewhere more secluded and roomy.’
    ‘The sort of country house you were describing would be expensive,’ Jess commented.
    ‘We realise that. We would like to find a place that needed renovating. It could be really run down. Then we could buy cheaper and take our time fixing the place up. Matt’s been driving round the countryside, looking out to see if he can spot anything within a reasonable journey time from Cheltenham.’
    A prickle ran along Jess’s spine. ‘So Matthew has been exploring the back roads recently, looking out for rundown properties?’
    ‘Yes! I just told you so.’ Sarah sounded impatient again.
    ‘Had he found any possible property for your purposes?’ Jess tried to keep her voice casual.
    Sarah’s gaze sharpened and she measured Jess with a look. ‘He did say there was one place, but he wasn’t sure about it. I don’t know where it was exactly. I think he was worried there might be a problem with ownership … or with the owner. He wanted to clear that up before he took me to see it.’
    ‘The problem wouldn’t be that the owner lived abroad, would it?’ asked Jess.
    Sarah blinked. ‘How do you know?’
    ‘Did he tell you the name and address or the house in question?’ Jess avoided a direct answer.
    ‘No, he didn’t. It was out of the way, he said. He asked about it in a local pub and the landlord told him about the absentee owner and directed him to a solicitor who represents the guy. So Matt talked to the solicitor, who was the one who said he didn’t think the owner had any intention of selling.’
    ‘Name of this solicitor?’ asked Jess, picking up her pen.
    ‘Began with an F … Fawcott? No, something like that.’
    ‘Foscott?’
    ‘Yes, that’s it!’ Sarah’s green gaze held suspicion. ‘You sound as if you know the property I’m talking about. What’s happened?’
    Jess again ignored the question. ‘It would help if you could let us have a photo of Mr Pietrangelo.’
    Sarah dived into her capacious shoulder bag. ‘Here, I’ve brought you three.’
    ‘Thank you. We’ll be in touch,’ Jess said.
    ‘That’s it?’ Sarah blinked and looked taken aback.
    ‘We’ll be on to it straight away, don’t worry about that. There’s a procedure in these cases.’
    Sarah got reluctantly to her feet. ‘I’ve tried the local hospitals,’ she said, ‘in case he’d had an accident. But he’s not in any of them. They’ve no record of him turning up at A and E. If he had smashed himself up, somewhere in the countryside, you’d know about it by now, wouldn’t you? Where’s his car, anyway?’
    Where, indeed? ‘Do you have the make and registration of the vehicle?’
    ‘It’s a Renault Clio. I’ll write the registration down for you.’ Sarah rummaged in her bag and produced a notebook and pen. She scribbled in the notebook, tore out