Page 23 of First Blood
The downstairs area consisted of two rooms. A kitchen that looked out to the front and a lounge that looked out onto a fenced area approximately twenty-five feet long.
She headed into the kitchen first. Three basic wooden chairs and a round table sat immediately to her left. A car magazine with the pages open caught her attention. Two of the cars listed were circled.
‘Must be getting a bit chilly on that bike,’ Bryant said, also glancing at the magazine and seeing the markings.
She took photos of the contact details of both cars to see if their victim had ever made a call.
She stood in the middle of the room and looked around. The units and appliances were cheap and functional. A few tea stains marked the work surface on their journey from cup to the spoon rest which was half full of used tea bags.
Immediately she suspected that no woman lived here. But it didn’t hurt to check.
‘Bryant, ring Stacey and see if anyone else is listed on the electoral roll.’
He nodded and stepped back into the hallway.
She wasn’t exactly house-proud herself but those tea stains would have driven her mad.
Also, she detected a thin film of dust on pretty much everything other than the kettle and the percolator.
Dried spill marks littered the floor and followed a trail from the work surface to the nearest chair.
‘No, guv,’ Bryant said, putting away his phone. ‘Stacey says he’s the only one listed on the electoral roll for the last three years. The whole time he’s lived here.’
She nodded her acknowledgment and moved into the lounge. Another small space darkened further by an oversized three-piece suite and heavy velour curtains that dropped and then spread out on the floor. A small television and a games system occupied the far corner. A football mug and snack plate had been left on a small glass coffee table to the right of the single chair.
Lying on the far cushion of the three-seater sofa was a closed laptop.
Kim wondered if they’d find out more about the man from that than they would from his home.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
‘Hey, Roy,’ she said to the heavily bearded man.
‘Got a call from your constable to meet you here.’ He took a look around the empty room. ‘Left the crime scene at Clent for this?’
Kim had worked with Roy a few times before. His analytical and enquiring mind made him the perfect forensic technician, and she had learned to ignore his moans. She’d swear that a Euro millions lottery win wouldn’t put a smile on that face.
‘Can we get that bagged?’ she asked, pointing at the computer.
‘Is that it?’ he asked, clearly miffed that he’d been called away.
‘Who knows? We haven’t checked upstairs yet,’ she said, hoping that there wasn’t actually another body.
He took a suit from his bag and started to climb into it.
‘No forced entry,’ she elaborated. ‘Well, until we got here so I’m not thinking anything took place here, but we are looking for clues.’
He offered a grunt of acknowledgment, and she headed upstairs.
Bryant followed. ‘Happy chappie.’
‘He’s okay. Just likes to be where the action is. I’ll take him over the pathologist any day.’
‘Hmm… not so much,’ he replied.
The hallway was small with three closed doors.
The first she opened led into a bathroom with a shower above the tub. A quick look around confirmed he didn’t bother to clean the area often. Toothpaste specks mottled the glass of the bathroom cabinet. Black tidemarks circled the bath like the age rings in a tree trunk.
