Let the Dead Speak (Maeve Kerrigan #7)

‘How?’

‘She rents one of the units here.’ He scratched his head, long nails raking through his lank grey hair. ‘Katie, that’s her name. Nice girl.’

‘When did she rent it?’

‘I’d have to check.’ He frowned. ‘No, I do remember. Three months ago. She said she only wanted it for three months.’

Three months. I glanced across at Derwent to check whether he’d heard and he nodded slightly.

Yawl was still talking. ‘She wanted to pay me in cash, but I wasn’t having that. She tried to argue with me but she needed the unit and she could tell I wasn’t going to back down. People think they can fuck you off because you’re running a small business but I know what I’m doing. Bank details, direct debit, all in my account in advance, and then I know who you are and I know how to find you. I’ve got to be able to protect myself, don’t I? I’ve got to know you are who you say you are. I had a little incident once with the tax man – a mistake on my part, nothing illegal – so now I’ve got to keep proper records. Once Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs have you on their list you never get off it again. It’s harassment of small business people, really, when they’re letting those crooks in the City get away with murder.’

‘She cancelled the direct debit last week,’ I said.

‘Three months, see? She meant it.’ He spat on the ground but well away from me: habit, not an insult. ‘End of the month, everything goes, then. If she doesn’t come back for anything, it’s mine. They don’t get one day for free off me. Clear it out and clear off, that’s what I say. I’m not running a charity.’

‘When was she here last?’ I asked.

‘Wednesday last week.’ The answer came too quickly for my liking.

‘You’re sure about that.’

‘I know my business.’ He looked defensive. ‘Always been good at knowing when things happened. Dates and times, type of thing. Ask me what day Christmas is this year. Go on, ask.’

Derwent snorted. ‘I couldn’t give a monkey’s about Christmas, Martin. Which unit is hers?’

He pointed to one on the end of the row of garages. The door was closed with a chain that ran through the hasp. It was padlocked.

‘Do you have a key for the padlock?’

‘No. It’s hers.’

‘What did she use it for?’ Georgia asked.

‘Storing things.’

‘What sort of things?’

‘I dunno. I never asked.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘And you never noticed her carrying things in and out? Come off it, Mr Yawl.’

‘She didn’t use it for much,’ he said reluctantly. ‘She was here most weeks but whatever she was keeping in there, it wasn’t bulky. It was small enough to go in a bag. I had a look in when she was coming and going, you know, when the door was open, to make sure it wasn’t anything illegal that was going on in there, because you never know these days, do you, and these are my premises and at the end of the day it all comes back to me, doesn’t it?’

‘And what did you see when you looked in?’ I asked patiently.

‘Nothing. The freezer, that’s all.’

‘The freezer?’

He nodded. ‘That unit’s got a freezer inside. A big one. A chest freezer. That’s why she wanted it. Urgently.’

Derwent rattled the door. ‘If you don’t have a key, how are you going to get in here to clear it out?’

‘I’ve got bolt cutters. I warned her. I warn everyone. If you don’t take your padlock away with you when you’re finished using it, I cut it off. But she’s got until the end of the month.’

‘I don’t think she’s going to be back, mate.’ Derwent hit the door with the heel of his hand and it echoed, as if the space behind it was empty. ‘You couldn’t get us the bolt cutters, could you? You can blame us if she comes back and gets angry about it. I’ll give you a receipt.’

‘All right.’ He turned round to shuffle into the trailer and I nudged Georgia.

‘Go with him. Get him to show you the paperwork for the unit. Make sure it matches up with his story.’ I could tell she didn’t want to go but she nodded and hopped up the steps into the trailer.

‘A chest freezer,’ Derwent said behind me. ‘Call me paranoid but I don’t like them.’

‘It explains why she came here rather than using a bigger storage company. They don’t tend to have things like chest freezers hanging around.’

‘It doesn’t explain why she needed it. Unless her stock needed to be kept frozen.’

‘She’s been running the business for years, though. She’d have had to have it somewhere else if it did need to be frozen. And why would she have known she only needed it for three months? Why was she coming and going with a small bag?’

Derwent was working his hands into blue gloves. ‘I don’t like any of this, to be honest with you. I can’t smell anything bad through the door but we’re still a body down on this murder inquiry. I’m not opening the freezer. You can do it.’

‘My hero.’ I got out my own gloves as Derwent collected the bolt cutters from Martin Yawl.

‘I can take it from here. No need for you to watch,’ he said briskly, patting the old man on the shoulder.

‘I’d like to see, though.’

‘I’m sure DC Shaw would appreciate your help with the paperwork.’ Derwent shook his head. ‘Pretty girl, but she does get confused now and then.’

Yawl hesitated, clearly torn.

‘Go on, mate.’ There was no warmth in Derwent’s voice despite the ‘mate’ he tacked on to the end. It was an order, and Yawl took heed.

‘I’ll go and check on how the lady’s getting on.’

‘Good plan.’

Derwent waited until Yawl had gone inside before he turned his attention to the chain. It was a heavy one and he struggled to cut it.

‘Do you want me to call the fire brigade?’

‘No, I do not.’ He glowered at me as he shrugged off his coat and jacket, thrusting them at me. ‘Hold those.’

‘Maybe a saw would be better.’

‘These will do the job.’ He hefted the bolt cutters and bent down to inspect the chain.

‘Maybe it’s your technique. Martin could give you a few tips.’

He straightened up. ‘Kerrigan, you’re not helping.’

‘I’m only saying, if he can cut through a chain like that, you’d think it would be possible for you to do it. Unless he’s a lot fitter than he looks. Or, I suppose, if you’re not as strong as you thought.’

He frowned at me. ‘Still angry I came along?’

‘Livid,’ I said crisply. ‘Not that I want to talk about it in front of DC Shaw.’

‘Oh.’

‘Come on, get on with it. That chain’s not going to cut itself.’

It took him a minute and some swearing through gritted teeth but eventually the chain gave way. I had used the time to get a few evidence bags from the boot of the car, spreading one on the ground.

‘Finally.’ I waited while Derwent pulled the chain through the hasp and set the padlock on top of the evidence bag.

‘Good thinking.’

‘In case we find something.’

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