Free Dead of Winter Tr by Lee Weeks

that?’
    ‘She didn’t. She said she’d give me the full report plus her notes later on today.’
    ‘How did you get on with her?’
    ‘Okay. She’s a bit frosty, defensive even. Sticking up for Davidson. She said she thought at the time they could be dealing with a cannibal killer. No wonder they wanted it kept
quiet. It sounds like the SIO panicked.’
    ‘Yeah. He cared more about brushing it under the carpet than solving it.’
    ‘Nothing’s been really messed with in all these years. Harding agrees it would be worth bringing a SOCO team down and looking at it again.’
    ‘Okay, we’ll get Sandford onto it. I’ve been in touch with the owner of Blackdown Barn. The neighbours were right – he lives on Jersey. He hasn’t been there in
years. He leaves it to an estate agent called Simpsons. It’s just on the high street in Barnet, two minutes from High Barnet tube. Go straight there for me, Ebb. The owner – manager
– Mr Simpson is expecting you. I’ll see you back here afterwards.’
    ‘Okay, Sarge.’
    Ebony came out of High Barnet tube station, walked into Simpsons and showed her badge to the first woman on a row of desks. She was shown through to the manager’s office. He had the file
already waiting for her. He handed it to her as he looked at his watch.
    She took it from him and pulled up a chair.
    ‘Thank you, Mr Simpson but I would appreciate it if we run through this together? It’s just in case I need to query anything in it; it will save time.’
    ‘Uh . . . now?’ He scratched his forehead. His hair had taken on a Friar Tuck look – two long thin brown islands either side of his head, parted by a sea of baldness. Ebony
nodded. ‘I have an important meeting in ten minutes.’ He looked at his watch to emphasize the point.
    ‘I suggest you postpone it for an hour.’
    He nodded his reluctant agreement.
    He went back behind his desk. ‘What can you tell me about the tenant at Blackdown Barn?’
    ‘His name was Chichester.’
    ‘Did Chichester say he was going to live there with anyone?’
    ‘Occasional guests.’
    ‘What did he look like?’
    ‘I never actually got to meet him – we conducted all our business over the internet. Chichester saw photos and I videoed the house so he could have a virtual tour.’
    ‘Have you still got that video, please?’
    ‘No . . . we can’t keep every bit of correspondence, but I have the photos.’ He handed her a packet of prints. Ebony took them out to look at. They were photos of each room
with dimensions written on the back.
    ‘Then what – after you emailed him these photos and he saw the video?’
    ‘He took the tenancy on for a year, paid upfront. He’d been there since January.’
    ‘So he left early.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Did he inform you of that?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Did you think that was odd?’
    ‘Well I do now.’
    ‘But you weren’t unduly concerned?’ he shook his head. Irritation was creeping into his demeanour as he fiddled with his cuffs and looked everywhere in the room except at
Ebony. ‘What about the utilities?’ asked Ebony. ‘There must be money owing?’
    ‘He insisted on having meters installed in Blackdown Barn. I had to see to that before he moved in.’
    They studied the photos. Ebony looked at the one of the master bedroom. ‘The carpet was replaced with lino in this room. Why was that?’
    ‘Chichester had very exact requirements. Replacing the carpet with linoleum was one of them.’
    ‘Did he tell you why he wanted the works done?’ Simpson shook his head. ‘And you didn’t think it was odd to want to put lino in a bedroom?’ He shrugged. His face
was turning red. ‘You must have had to agree the work with the owners?’
    ‘Well, it wasn’t always necessary to bother the owners. I have handled their properties for many years. Chichester covered the whole of the costs. I didn’t feel I needed to . .
.’
    ‘Can I please have a full list with all the receipts from that