Departures (part 4 of 7)

Part 4 - Wednesday

Stephen Rowland was a bit of a mystery to his work collegues. A quiet, mild tempered man who didn't join in with the usual office gossip, he was considered dull and unimportant. Stephen wasn't at all bothered even though he was well aware of their opinions; work was just a means to an end after all. He used all his disposable income funding trips around the world, persuing his passion for archaeology and antiques. He had seen Mayan mummies released from their entombment, lost cities liberated from Egyptian sand; mummies raised from their resting places in cemeteries bordering the Nile; even an ancient Grecian vase found in pieces underneath a collapsed building outside Athens. He had frequented bazaars and shady shops in Morocco and India; secreted Chinese ivory in a suitcase, sucessfully. His passion was collecting and selling to the highest bidder and he immersed himself into the hunt. He was perfectly content to spend all of his spare time at home, studying and researching. He lived alone and had no particular desire for any company but his own. Even his 22 year old son was unimportant and as for his ex wife; well, she was already forgotten.

Stephen offered DC Bryan a seat in his office on Wednesday morning. She had asked to meet him at his flat but Stephen prefered to see her here and business was slow today. The usual polite offer of coffee having been declined, DC Bryan studied the man opposite. He appeared a very controlled person she thought, noting his neat apperance and movements. She wondered if he would ever allow anything to ruffle his calm. Stephen was explaining to her that he had never seen his landlady except from a distance when she still used to go out. "I don't think she left her flat much at all and certainly not in the last two years. She has a cleaner who goes in most days you know," he concluded. "Yes sir, we've already spoken to Mrs Mason." DC Bryan answered. "So you don't know anything about Mrs Bradley's habits, visitors..." she left the hook dangling, knowing that if a silence was left for long enough most people would fill it with something. Stephen was supremely uninterested in the subject matter and was well aware of what she was doing; he'd used it to good effect on clients who thought they could outwit him in business deals. He held her gaze amiably but silently. "Were you aware that the attic wasn't secured with a lock?" The question came out of the blue and for a moment the pupils of his grey eyes widened but he was soon controlled again. "I don't have a reason to go upstairs, I live on the ground floor." he replied. "Not even for the purpose of discussing a problem with the flat or rent?" DC Bryan raised an eyebrow as she asked the question. Stephen settled back comfortably in his chair. "No, not even then," he answered "there's an agent, Robin Neeson, at City Lettings. I go through him." DC Bryan noted the name and thanked him for his time. She stated she'd be in touch if she needed to and then left. Stephen's partner, Russell, watched her leave. He pursed his lips in a silent whistle of appreciation for her chestnut hair and slim legs and then turned to wink at Stephen who stood in the doorway of his office. "Send her to interview me next time if you want," he quipped. Stephen gave a tight lipped smile. "Career woman. Not my type at all." He vanished back into his office.

In her tidy, cosy flat, Gloria was making tea for DS Sawyer and the small, blonde, plump WPC he had brought with him. DS Sawyer took a mug celebrating the marriage of Charles and Di while the police woman got poppies. Gloria sipped from one depicting a Labrador with his pink tongue lolling to one side of a silly smile. She offered a plate of chocolate digestives and sugary shortbread. The WPC took one and bit into it, scattering crumbs over her trousers.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better now, thank you." Gloria was saying in reply to DS Sawyer's question. "I'm still shocked, such a lovely lady and for her life to end like that..." her nose pinked and her eyes filled as her voice broke. She put her mug down, fumbled for a tissue and dabbed her eyes with it as DS Sawyer watched her. The WPC patted her free hand comfortingly. "We have the preliminary results back from the post mortem. They're inconclusive I'm afraid. Mrs Bradley definitely died from a blow to the head but the how is still undetermined. Do you know if Mrs Bradley had any problems at all; an argument with anyone, family rift..?" he asked. Gloria looked confused. "Oh surely you don't think someone did this, killed her? Oh no, I can't believe it, not Mrs Bradley. She was a real lady you know, not like some of the old 'uns round here." Gloria jerked her head towards the front door, indicating her opinion of some of the neighbours she had to tolerate in the small tower block that encompassed her home. "Orchard Way is a nice place and her house was so nice and quiet...oh no, it couldn't..." her voice trailed away as she tried to take in what he was telling her. This whole thing was quite horrid and it was making her feel quite ill and that awful little pain was back again. Something near her heart lurched and she realised with a sick feeling in her stomach that she had had more contact with the dead woman than anyone and maybe they thought that she'd... DS Sawyer read her face like a book and felt a twinge of pity for this elderly lady who reminded him of his own mother before dementia took hold of her and engulfed her personality so completely. He reached forward and patted her shoulder, knowing that with such an open countenance he would have read her guilt within seconds of first seeing her if she had been responsible. "Now don't worry, I'm only asking you because you've known Mrs Bradley for so long. I thought if there was something, you would be the one to ask. Make another cup of tea with sugar." he directed the last sentence to the WPC who hastened to obey. Gloria summoned up a small, polite smile. "I'm all right, thank you. But surely it was an accident?" DS Sawyer looked at her dressed in her sensible skirt and jumper with her curly hair neatly brushed. She looked a little pale still but the colour had returned to her lips. "It could be an accident but we have to consider the worst first. We'll be in touch as soon as we have some results from our investigation." DS Sawyer and the WPC left Gloria sipping her tea which was hot, strong and sweet, just as she liked it.