Page 37 of One Left Alive
‘Morning, Kenny, is Morgan up there?’
‘If you mean that young lass, then yep. Who did she upset to get that job? Have you been up there lately? It’s a shithole with boxes strewn everywhere not to mention pigeon crap. Rather her than me.’
Ben wondered if he should get someone to help her try and locate the files, but he didn’t have anyone to spare. She was on her own for now, though he doubted she’d care.
He sat down at the oval table and waited for everyone else to join him so he could give them the latest updates.
Twenty-Five
Morgan stared at the haphazard stacks of cardboard boxes strewn around the attic space and groaned. She could hear the gentle cooing in the eaves from the pigeons and there were feathers and droppings everywhere. Not exactly the most hygienic place she could spend her morning. A shiver wracked her entire body; there were large holes in the roof where the wind was blowing through and it was freezing. She closed her eyes.You can do this. Isn’t it what you want? How many rookies get this kind of chance, Morgan? Woman up, all you have to do is find a stack of boxes with the right year on.
Her eyes opened. Dan hadn’t spoken to her properly since she’d been given the chance to work alongside Ben. Considering he’d been her tutor, he was such a child at times; he had the mentality of a seventeen-year-old. She wasn’t going to give up this opportunity for anyone, let alone him. Ben had said they needed extra bodies, and she knew if she said she couldn’t cope he’d replace her in a heartbeat, and there was no way she was giving him a chance to make her look as if she couldn’t do the job. She’d show them all he had made the right decision by giving her this opportunity.
An hour later, she found a box labelled ‘O’Brien Murders Unsolved’. A whoop of delight escaped her lips. It didn’t matter that it was right at the bottom of the biggest stack of boxes in there. She began to lift each box off and restack them into a pile, wondering how many cold cases there were up here. Maybe if she did a good job on the O’Briens, Ben would let her work them. It would be fascinating and a good way to learn. When the last box was there for her to inspect, she felt a small tingle of excitement: this box was much bigger than the others. But of course, there was an entire investigation of a murdered family in here. It was heavy as well.
She dragged it to the stairs where there was more light than in the shadowy attic space. Sitting on the top step she lifted the lid off, and inside were stacks of files, some brown paper evidence bags and a folder. She pulled the smaller folder out and opened it and a stack of photos fluttered to the floor. Staring down at them, she realised she was looking at some of the worst crime scene photographs she’d ever seen. All the books, documentaries, films and television shows she’d watched over the years were nothing compared to these small photos of complete violence and devastation.
Footsteps coming up the stairs startled her from the daze she was in and her heart skipped a beat.
Ben appeared around the bend, almost running into her.
‘Christ, you scared me sitting there like some little ghost; you look as white as one.’
She held up a stack of photos. ‘I found the box.’
He looked over her shoulder at the stacks of boxes. ‘You deserve a medal, well done. I’ll help you carry it down, although I don’t want that box in the office; it might have some kind of pigeon disease. You can take it in the empty room that used to belong to CCTV operators. In fact, it might be a good idea to turn that into an office for you. You’re going to need lots of room to go through this without getting it mixed up with the current investigation. I’ll ask Kenny to set you a computer up and a couple of whiteboards.’
‘Thanks, that will be great.’ She stood up, wiping her hands on her trousers. She felt grimy and wanted to shower, change into fresh clothes. These were minging now. She placed the photos back inside the box and he stooped down to pick it up.
‘I can manage, you know.’
‘I know you can, but it’s the least I can do after you’ve spent all this time up here looking for it.’
She followed him down to the first floor; he walked past the CID office and carried on towards the far end. Pushing open a door with a ‘Knock Before Entering’ sign, she followed him inside a large, empty room. There was a bank of old television monitors along one wall with a set of controls to operate the cameras.
‘Wow, those are practically antiques.’
Ben laughed. ‘Careful, I remember when they installed them. They were top of the range back then.’
‘Oh. I didn’t mean…’
‘It’s okay, Morgan, I’m older than you and I’m joking.’
He placed the box on a large table. ‘What do you think, are you okay to work from here? I’m only down the corridor. I’ll be popping in to check where you’re at with everything and you can come see me whenever you want.’
‘Yeah, I mean it’s a bit outdated but it’s good. Who’d have thought I’d end up with my own office so soon after joining your team? I don’t know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult.’
He reached out and took hold of her arm. ‘It’s definitely not an insult. I’m not trying to get rid of you. I want you on my side, but things have got a little complicated and I can’t jeopardise any ongoing investigations. You understand that, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. Have you picked him up yet?’
‘Not yet. Officers are on their way to a couple of locations where there might have been sightings of him.’
She nodded, finding it difficult to find the right words to say. Her entire life had been turned upside down in three days. How she wished she had someone to go home to and talk about it with. She didn’t even have a cat. Her last boyfriend had dumped her when she’d told him she’d been offered a place in the police, which told her all she needed to know about his character. What she’d give, though, to have someone to share a bottle of wine with and tell them what a rubbish day she’d had. Although she was fiercely independent she still liked company.
Ben left her to go and find Kenny, and she went in search of the cleaners’ cupboard. There was no way she was going to spend ten hours or more a day cooped up in an office which hadn’t been dusted or cleaned in at least three maybe four years.
By the time Ben came back in an hour later with two mugs of coffee, the whole place smelt of lemon and beeswax. She had dragged everything out, polished, hoovered and put everything she needed into a more suitable workspace. She’d even cleaned the grime from the windows so daylight could filter through. Kenny had set her a computer up and was in the process of drilling two huge whiteboards onto the wall.
