Indefensible (DI Sara Ramsey Book 12) by M Comley (brene brown rising strong TXT) 📕

“I hear you. We should get into a routine of doing it on our days off, but there’s always something else to do, isn’t there? Anyway, that can keep for another day. Let’s see if we have any TCP lying around to clean you up.” She kissed him again and then searched the cupboard under the sink. “Bingo. This is likely to sting a little.”

He laughed. “It’ll be less harmful than the thump I received earlier, so I’m prepared to take a risk.”

Sara carefully tended to his wounds. Mark was a brave soldier, only wincing and sucking in a sharp breath a few times during the treatment. Afterwards, she heated up the frittata for him and he demolished it within seconds.

“Someone was hungry. Do you want some ice cream to fill you up?”

“No, that was enough for me. Come on, let’s go to bed.” He had a twinkle in his eye.

“I’ll pour us both a glass of wine, how’s that?”

“Sounds good to me.”

2

Sara was the last of the team to arrive the following day. “Sorry, I’m late. Where are we at?”

“Morning,” Carla replied, staring at her quizzically.

Sara was keen to get on with the investigation rather than answer her partner’s unasked questions. “I need you guys to do some digging, see if there have been any other burglaries in the area in the last six months. I can’t recall any ending up in a murder scene, but as we’re all aware, criminals escalate over time. Whether out of boredom or something else, I’m not too sure. Let’s get armed with the facts and go from there.”

Roger Purcell walked into the incident room. “Hello, ma’am. Sorry to interrupt. Would it be okay if we had a chat?”

“Of course, Roger. Come into my office.”

The team muttered as they left the room. Sara motioned for him to go into the office ahead of her. “Can I get you a coffee?”

“Please, white with one sugar.”

“Carla, sorry, do you mind bringing us two white coffees with one, please?”

Carla nodded and shot out of her chair. Sara entered the office and left the door ajar. She removed her coat, hung it on the rack and then sat behind her desk opposite Roger. “Let’s get the daft question out of the way first. How are you today?”

“Confused would be my answer, I suppose.”

Sara noted the suit he was wearing and said, “I can understand that. You’re not back at work yet, are you?”

“Yes, I’d be hopeless at home.” He held up a hand. “I swear I’m not here to hound you about the investigation.”

Sara smiled. “Glad to hear it, you know these things take time to get going.”

“I know. I wanted to touch base with you. Tell you what my daughter said about her visit yesterday.”

Sara sat back and steepled her fingers. Carla pushed open the door, placed two cups on the table and left the room again, closing the door behind her. “Go on.”

“Sonia called in to see Mum after college. She told me Mum was in good spirits when she left. Was about to put her feet up and watch some TV. Sonia’s distraught by what has happened to her grandmother. I sense she’s going to be blaming herself for years to come.”

“Why should she blame herself?” Sara sat forward and took a sip from her cup.

“My lass is a sensitive soul. She believes if she’d stayed a little while longer, then her grandmother would still be alive today.”

Sara sighed. “No one can know that for sure. For all we know, the killer might have been watching the house, waiting to seize the opportunity to strike.”

“That’s what I told her, sort of. Any news from the neighbours? Sorry, forgive me, I shouldn’t be asking you that, this is your investigation, not mine.”

“I get where you’re coming from. It’s going to be hard for you to let go and allow us to proceed, but you’re going to have to do it; otherwise, it’ll eat away at you. I promise you we’re going to go the extra mile on this one. Not just because the victim was your mother, but because I detest any kind of assault or crime against the frailer members of our community.”

“I appreciate your point of view. Most officers would put a case like this on the back burner from the outset.”

Sara inclined her head. “Not me, I can assure you. I have a few questions for you if you’re up to answering them?”

He reached for his cup, took a swig and then nodded. “Fire away.”

Sara studied his ageing face. She took him to be in his mid-to-late forties. His hair showing signs of age at the sides. His face gaining a few wrinkles here and there. “Did your mother have any money at the house?”

“Yes, don’t tell me the bastard got to it?” He fidgeted in his seat and then lifted his cup again.

“It would appear that way. There was a box lying on the bed with all her personal paperwork left in it.”

“Yes, she used to keep some money there. Although, saying that, I think she had it dotted around in several places. And before you say it, I warned her about the dangers of keeping cash in the house, but she wouldn’t listen. Hard to argue with her views about not trusting banks when they’re currently screwing us over with pathetic interest rates.”

“I wholeheartedly agree with you. Did your mother still use a bank, to pay any direct debits, for instance?”

“Yes, she’s with Lloyds. Why?”

After taking a drink of coffee, Sara said, “We found her handbag, but her purse was missing.”

He shook his head slowly and his expression darkened. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I still can’t get my head around why anyone would kill a pensioner in their own home.”

“I know. It doesn’t sit well with me either. I’ll put a stop to her card at the bank.”

“Why? There isn’t much in there. I’m giving you permission to leave the account open.