Departures (part 5 of 7)

Part 5 - Thursday

Thursday afternoon found DS Sawyer, DC Bryan and the rest of the team in the station reviewing their current cases. It had been agreed that DC Phillips and DC Simmons would continue the inquiry into the supply of cannabis and ecstasy at the local college, combining it with Operation Sword and the drug squad. DS Sawyer was reviewing a case of child abandonment, assigning the identification of a vagrant to DC Bryan and then he turned towards the officers dotted around the room.

"Right then, unexplained death." Dave and Nidge, sitting at the back of the room with thier sergeant sat up and listened. "Post mortem confirms no injuries except head wound due to a forceful blow to the side of the head. Some bruising to top of left arm and hairline fracture to right hip close to death. Probably happened when she hit the floor." The blonde WPC who had accompanied him to see Gloria Mason frowned and asked "what about the bruise to her arm?" DS Sawyer felt a little impatient, his quick intelligence often made him feel that way with those not as gifted, but he faced her and answered her courteously. "We aren't sure, but it could have happened when she fell. There were no fingermarks," he added, anticipating her next question. She nodded, satisfied. The discussion continued and eventually they all left with their assignments.

The early promise of spring in the beginning of the week had proved as fickle as a spoilt child's generosity and the Lane was being lashed with wind driven rain. Water ran in the gutters and puddled in every dip and pothole it found in the road, pavement and garden as Kelly dished up the kid's tea. Thomas and Kaylee tucked into fish fingers, broccoli, peas and mashed potato. Kelly squeezed copious amounts of tomato ketchup over Tom's potato, which was the only way he would eat it, and then put a teaspoon of mayonnaise next to Kaylee's fish finger "but not touching it, mummy." she ordered. Having deposited the blob of white gloop to her demanding daughter's satisfaction, Kelly picked up her mug of coffee and sat with them as they ate.

Kelly was still unsettled within the flat. She and Kieran had discussed moving the night before but the effort to save up a deposit and rent in advance for another place was daunting. They would need at least £1,500, probably more, and they had spent an hour talking about how they could do it. Kelly was desperate to leave, she didn't feel safe and the thought that a dead body had been in the house was hugely unsettling to someone who'd only ever seen dead flies and wasps.

Outside the clouds had caused a premature darkening, rushing the evening in early. The shrubs in the tiny front garden shone wetly in the gloom and a leftover strip of police tape dangled limply from the gatepost. Ness exited the front door, banging it sharply behins her as she left for the theatre. Curtains were drawn and blinds were down to deter gawkers and sensation seekers as the live residents tried to go about their business as usual. The truth was that Mrs Bradley had been a name, an old lady who lived unseen in the top of the house. The agency was more real to the tenants. They collected the rent and dealt with queries and complaints. Mrs Bradley wasn't missed or mourned.

Stephen Rowland returned from work at 6.30pm and immediately dumped his breifcase and jacket on the sofa and, sipping the coffee he'd purchased at the traqin station, he sat at his large desk to persue his research into Japanese porcelain and it's value on the internet.

The house settled down for the night, floorboards creaking, pipes popping, doors opening and closing; and the rain drumming, trickling and dripping.