Free Doors Without Numbers by C.D. Neill

enthusiasts were pupils at the local school. William Barnes had implied as much. Hammond nodded at Dunn.
    “Yes, take Edwards with you in the morning, start with the corner shop opposite New Road, apparently the kids congregate there often, then go to the school; address the kids in assembly, just indicate that we are there for help gathering local information. There is no point in making them panic. They probably already know that a body has been found in the woods since the area has been sealed off, and a small village like Saltwood is bound to have its share of gossip, especially now the media has been informed.”
    He delegated Galvin to taking another look at the bike tracks in the morning, using the opportunity to interview other dog walkers and runners who frequented the woodland paths. Hammond announced that he would chase up on Forensics. The team arranged to regroup the following afternoon before spilling out the room in undisguised eagerness to get home.
    Wallace Hammond sank into a chair allowing himself to digest the day. He stayed there quietly for several minutes hypnotised by the sound of the wall clock ticking until he saw Dunn through the glass door walking down the corridor with a mug in her hand. He called to her, surprised that she hadn’t yet left the building like her peers. She responded to his call by walking back to the briefing room, poking her head around the door until she saw him in his crumbled state.
    “You are not going home?”
    Hammond gave her a lop-sided smile. “I am waiting for my body to get up and move.”
    Dunn laughed and walked further into the room, still swinging her mug by its handle at her side. “I am going to stay here a few minutes longer, catch up on some e-mails.” She saw Hammond’s raised eyebrow and blushed slightly.
    “Well...truth is, I don’t want to go home yet. My boyfriend is there, waiting for an answer that I cannot give him.”
    “Oh.” Hammond felt this comment was heading towards unchartered territory. He had only known Dunn professionally for two years; their private lives had never been discussed, until now. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
    “Don’t worry Sir. I am not going to spill my inner soul over the carpet, I just...” She stopped herself from saying anything more with sigh and sat down heavily on a chair next to Hammond, studying her cup as if looking for coffee grounds that could guide her.
    “My life is great. I love my job; I’ve got a great apartment. Everything I ever wanted. I’ve met this amazing guy and we have fun, but now he wants commitment and everything is ruined.”
    Hammond looked at her sympathetically. Lois Dunn was still so young; he guessed she was about thirty years of age. It was unusual to know a woman so driven in life without the desperation to be married or have children. He admired her tenacity.
    “Do you like being with him?”
    Dunn shrugged her shoulders hopelessly.
    “Yes, but not enough to want to give up my independence.” She looked at Hammond and blushed again, apologising with a wave of her hand as if to wipe away her candour. The two colleagues sat there in silence, lost in their own thoughts before Hammond spoke.
    “There is something I have been asked to investigate, something that is not really my responsibility but I feel the need to do it anyway.”
    He was surprised by his own admittance although now he had spoken aloud of the thoughts that had tormented him throughout the day; it felt as if he were unburdening a heavy load. Dunn looked at him, surprised. She turned her chair so she could face him and listened as Hammond told her about Lloyd Harris’s request. She didn’t say a word until Hammond relayed the details of Mark Callum’s death.
    “Well, there are no rules to suicide.” She said simply in response to Hammond’s questioning the method of suicide. Hammond agreed but then explained his puzzlement over the missing paper and pen, Callum’s lack of a social life, the