The Drowning Child

63

Ren stood up, flipped the newspaper on to the crossword again, and compared the handwriting in the two.

Not his writing on the note.

There was a faint smell of citrus from the paper.

Perfumey. Female.

Ren took a paper evidence bag from her purse, put the page inside, and put it back in her purse. She opened the drawers, all of them half-filled with neat piles of clothes. She looked through them, found nothing. There was a stack of crime novels beside his bed. There was a suitcase underneath the bed. She slid it out and opened it. It was empty.

Nadine came back in as Ren was standing up, and handed her a cup of water.

‘Thank you,’ said Ren. She drank it and put the empty cup on the table.

‘Do the residents get out much?’ said Ren.

‘There are various outings organized every week,’ said Nadine, ‘residents can decide whether they want to go. If you mean Roger specifically – he hadn’t been on any of them.’

‘Has he had any visitors recently?’ said Ren.

‘Not since the Sunday before last – his son Jimmy came in that morning – he was heading off on vacation.’

‘Is your visitor log computerized?’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ said Nadine.

‘Can you forward me details of visitors from last week?’

‘Sure, no problem.’

Ren handed her her card. ‘Thank you.’ She paused. ‘Where did Roger Lyle live?’

‘Well, the house is for sale now,’ said Nadine. ‘But it’s on Richmond Road, just by the middle school.’

Holy. Fuck.

Ren drove to Richmond Road, and parked opposite the one house that had a FOR SALE sign in the front garden. She opened up her laptop and called up the CCTV photo of Seth Fuller on the same street. He was pretty much parked in the same spot.

What is going on?

Ren arrived back in Tate PD and filled everyone in on Roger Lyle, and Seth Fuller. Ren turned to Ruddock. ‘What do you know about him?’

Please do not tell me he’s your best friend.

‘He’s very well-known in the community,’ said Ruddock. ‘He always kept very much to himself. He was strict with all the kids, strict with his son. He was a private man.’

‘Could you see him doing anything like this?’ said Ren. ‘He wasn’t in Harvest Road when Aaron and Luke were killed. Going in there could have been some very convenient timing. Have there ever been any rumors about him?’

‘No,’ said Ruddock.

‘CVIP’s estimate is that the man in the photos would be minimum mid-sixties now,’ said Ren. ‘He fits the bill in that sense.’ She put on gloves and pulled the piece of paper from the evidence bag. ‘This was the note from his wastebasket.’ She held it in front of Ruddock. He stared at it.

Ooh... what do you know? ‘Do you recognize the writing?’ said Ren.

Ruddock looked up at her. ‘No.’

There is a battle behind those eyes.

‘It smelled a little citrusy earlier,’ said Ren. ‘It’s worn off now. It might be a woman.’

Ruddock nodded. ‘Could be. Let’s see what the lab comes back with, in terms of prints.’

‘What did the Veirs say about the sleeping bag?’ said Ren.

‘Both thought that the other brought it from before they were married,’ said Ruddock. ‘After that, their best guess was that the previous owners left it behind. But we contacted them, and it wasn’t theirs. The Veirs were horrified the sleeping bag had appeared in images of abuse.’

Ren turned to Paul Louderback. ‘Can we send some guys to Richmond Road to check out Roger Lyle’s house?’

‘Sure,’ said Paul, ‘but that was already done as part of the neighborhood canvas last week.’

‘Can we get into the house?’ said Ren. ‘Get the keys from the real estate agent? Unless Lyle’s son lets us in when he arrives. Pretty shitty, though, when he’s coming back for his father’s memorial.’

‘If the house is up for sale, it’s likely we’re not going to find much in it,’ said Gary.

‘Let’s find out if they’ve got anything in storage,’ said Ren. ‘We need to know.’

By the time Ren checked her inbox, there was one from Bob Freeborn in CVIP, forwarded by Ruddock. It had the first of the indecent images and videos. Ren started to look through them.

Grim. Grim. Grim. Grim. Grim.