Condemned by R.C. Bridgestock (love books to read TXT) 📕

as did her voice. ‘This is what we’ll do. I’ll refer you for professional support. You’ll accept. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ said Ricky-Lee. His sigh was one of relief and gratitude.

‘If you need help, my door is always open. I’ve already fired warning shots across Ben and Terry’s bows. After today it’s in the past, but if you feel you’re slipping again, then you speak to me, do you hear; my door is always open. You’re safe for now. Don’t let me down again, otherwise you know the consequences.’

‘Thank you, boss, thank you. It means everything to me to get a second chance, everything.’

‘Good, now get back to work, and that’s all I want you to be doing in work’s time, okay?’

Ricky-Lee got up to leave.

‘And don’t let me have to have this conversation with you again,’ she said.

The detective turned with his hand on the door handle. ‘You won’t regret it boss, I promise.’

‘Make sure I don’t. Now get out of my office before I change my mind.’

Chapter 26

‘Oh no, detective,’ said Raglan’s assistant, as she jumped up from behind her desk. ‘You’ve literally just missed him.’ Through the large front window young Miss Finch scanned the high street, as if she might still be able to locate and stop Mr Raglan in his tracks. ‘Mr Thomas called in to take him somewhere.’

‘Will he be long?’ asked Mike.

Miss Finch paused, as if something had just occurred to her, and turned towards Mike with her mouth half open. She frowned, looking a little puzzled. ‘Actually, he didn’t say where he was going.’ She raised her finger as if to remember. ‘Just not to contact him, “Unless it is something very important”,’ she repeated, parrot-fashion. Colour rose in her cheeks, and she looked questioningly from one detective to the other. ‘Is it urgent? Should I call him?’ she said hurriedly. She took two quick steps to her desk, and picked up the phone.

Reaching out, Mike indicated for her to stop. ‘No, that’s okay. It’s our fault. We should have rung ahead and made an appointment.’

Wilkie sat down on one of the ladder-back chairs in front of her desk. ‘Perhaps you could help us instead?’

Mike wrinkled his nose. ‘It would save us time, if you could?’

Miss Finch looked unsure.

Wilkie winked at the dark-haired girl. ‘I think we all know that nothing much goes on around here that you don’t know about. In fact, I daresay you run this place.’

Miss Finch giggled. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I will try and help you with your enquiries though, if I can,’ she said, coyly.

Mike followed her lead and took a seat. ‘As you are aware, for obvious reasons we have an interest in Crownest, but the previous tenants, the Dixons, are also of interest to us.’

The secretary nodded. ‘Yes, so I understand.’

‘We understand that a young Asian man came here asking about them. Do you remember him?’

Miss Finch’s eyes flew open. ‘Yes, I most certainly do, for a number of reasons. Firstly, he parked on the double yellow lines outside the shop in a royal blue cabriolet sports car, which just has to be one of my favourite cars in the whole wide world,’ she said excitedly. ‘I knew he wasn’t from around here, otherwise he would have known the traffic wardens are dead keen.’ She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Secondly, his gear was super cool. He had a suit made from black velvet, jacket belted-in with a thick, studded silver belt. When he spoke to me, his voice soft, and it was hard not to stare at the chunky gold rings on his fingers. He asked me if he could speak to Mr Raglan.’

Miss Finch turned towards Mr Raglan’s office door. ‘Surprisingly, the boss told me to tell him he was too busy to see him.’ She scowled. ‘That’s so unusual; Mr Raglan never turns anyone away. He likes the company. However, the man wouldn’t take no for an answer, marched towards the boss’s office, and although I protested, barged in and shut the door in my face.’

‘What did you do then?’ asked Mike.

‘Put it this way… when I heard him shouting, I was frightened enough to get your card out of my bag, DS Blake.’ She squinted her eyes and pinched her fingers close together. ‘I was this close to making the call.’

‘What was the man shouting about, do you know?’

‘Like you, he wanted to know where the Dixons had gone, and Mr Raglan kept telling him he didn’t know. The man obviously didn’t believe him. Although the boss swore he didn’t.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘Mr Raglan’s office door flew open and I saw the man pointing a finger directly at him, in a threatening way.’

‘Did he say anything else?’ said Mike.

‘He told Mr Raglan that if he found out he was lying he would be back. But most upsettingly, I saw his face when he said, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with”. That man was angry, really angry. He stormed through this office and slammed the door behind him, so hard that he cracked that window. The glazier’s supposed to be coming by to fix it. Mr Raglan is having the whole shop front triple-glazed. I’ve seen the quote, it’s costing him a fortune.’

‘Has the man been back since?’ said Wilkie.

‘No, not to my knowledge. Not whilst I’ve been here, and I’m here every day from nine to five, except Sundays.’

‘Do you think that Mr Raglan does know where the Dixons have gone?’ said Mike.

Miss Finch shook her head. ‘No, well at least, I don’t think so. I never met them, but Mr Raglan told me when ‘the squatters’, that’s how he referred to them, had cleared off, and he’s been a lot easier to work with since.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ said Mike.

‘He’s happier, calmer, less jumpy, y’know. He had seemed on edge before.’

‘It looks like the Dixons have literally vanished into thin air. No one appears to know where they are,’ said Mike.

Miss Finch