‘Ingratiating yourself with the locals, I see,’ Christian said.
‘Dolly, here, alerted us to Sebastian’s flat,’ Walker said.
‘Dolly, is it? You really are getting to know the neighbours. Lead the way.’
Walker handed his empty mug to Kendal and set off with Christian in tow. Scott followed behind.
‘Bloody hell, they’re getting younger,’ Dolly said as she saw Scott. ‘What is this, bring-your-child-to-work day?’
Christian took more offense at that remark than Scott did.
When they reached the flat, they all looked at the window next to the front door and saw the number of flies buzzing around on the inside. Christian took out a pair of gloves from his back pocket and began to put them on. Scott did the same.
‘I think we can safely say that there could possibly be a life in danger in that flat, so I’m legally allowed to break down this door to investigate,’ Christian said. He took a step back, lifted his right leg up and slammed it hard into the door. It buckled but didn’t open.
The door was a cheap, dirty white uPVC one with a small round double-glazed frosted window near the top. It took two more kicks before the door flew open and slammed against the wall behind. All three were hit by the smell of decomposition. Walker quickly turned away while Christian searched in his pocket for something to cover his mouth with. He found a creased handkerchief he kept on him for such an eventuality. Scott wasn’t quite as prepared and pulled down the sleeve on his sweater to cover his hand and use as a mask.
Walker stayed outside while the DI and DC entered the dark property. The first door on the left, next to the front door, was closed. Looking down, Christian could see flies buzzing in and out of the gap where the threadbare carpet was. He looked at Scott whose face was screwed up against the smell.
He placed a hand on the handle and braced himself. Slowly, he pushed it down and opened the door.
It was dark in the bathroom, but there was no mistaking that a naked man in the tub full of bloody water was dead and had been for some time.
***
Less than an hour later, Adele Kean and Lucy Dauman were carefully lifting Sebastian Page out of the bloody bath and onto the opened up body bag on the floor. He was a tall man, and despite being slim, he was heavy – a dead weight – and the small room left very little space for manoeuvre.
Christian watched from the doorway. He looked around to make sure nobody was in earshot.
‘Adele, have you heard from Matilda lately?’
‘No. Why?’
‘I’ve called her a couple of times and her phone is going straight to voicemail.’
‘Maybe she’s out with her new man,’ Lucy said with a grin.
‘Hmm,’ Christian said, not convinced.
‘Christian, come and have a look at this,’ Scott called from the somewhere else in the flat.
The living room was dark and cluttered. The three-piece suite was old, the furniture second-hand and dated. A large mass-produced bookcase at the back of the room was bursting with DVDs and Blu-rays. The only new thing in the whole room was the widescreen television which was too big for the room.
‘Any chance of opening the curtains or putting a light on?’ Christian asked.
Scott flicked a switch on the wall. An energy saving light bulb slowly came to life. It was of such low wattage that it didn’t make much difference.
Christian rolled his eyes. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘I’ve found this. It’s not sealed down.’ Scott handed him an envelope with the word ‘Mum’ handwritten on the front.
‘Where?’
‘On top of the fireplace.’
Both detectives were wearing gloves, so the risk of disturbing evidence was at a minimum. Christian turned over the cheap envelope and removed a single sheet of A5 paper folded in half. He opened it, skimmed it, and sighed.
‘A suicide note,’ he said.
Mum,
I’m sorry. I’m not as strong as you think I am. I know you’ve taken a huge risk in helping me cover everything up and I thank you and love you for it but, at the end of the day, I’ve killed someone, and that fact won’t ever go away.
Some people will say I’m taking the coward’s way out. Maybe I am, but I don’t care anymore.
Tell the police it was all me. Don’t let them drag you down with me. I’m dead now. They can’t do anything to me.
I’m sorry for what you’ll have to go through and if you’re the one who finds my body, I’m so sorry and I hope you’ll forgive me.
Thank you for everything you did and for trusting me by giving me the job at Mary Croft. You are a wonderful mum and I love you.
Seb.
‘Oh my God,’ Scott said, reading it after Christian. ‘The poor bloke.’
‘I know.’
‘It doesn’t say if Calvin killed Keeley Armitage or not.’
‘No,’ Christian mused. He went over to the window and pulled open the curtains. He looked out over the depressing view of a forgotten Sheffield: abandoned buildings, closed-down factories left to be targeted by vandals and graffiti artists. ‘Read that last bit again for me, Scott.’
‘Thank you for everything you did and for trusting me by giving me the job at Mary Croft. You are a wonderful mum and I love you.’ Scott read.
‘Doesn’t that sound odd to you?’
‘No. She helped him get a job. There’s nothing wrong with using a parent’s connections.’
‘That’s not what he says. He says thank you for giving me the job, not getting me the job.’
‘What’s the difference?’
‘His mother gave him the job because she was in a position to do so. And who does the employing at Mary Croft Primary School?’
‘I don’t know, the head teacher presumably.’
‘Exactly. Sheila Croft. Making her Sebastian’s mother.’
Chapter 46
Ellen Devonport slept in until almost lunchtime. After emailing her daily report to DCI Darke, she’d had a late night during which she’d watched Graham Norton then the late film and eventually nodded off in an armchair. She woke up with a crick in her neck and a hangover. She knew never to drink a full bottle of red wine, as the after effects were lethal, but she could never resist a Merlot, especially when it was on special offer at Tesco.
She showered, forced herself to eat a two-day-old croissant and headed for the gym. If half an hour on a treadmill didn’t sober her up, nothing would.
Unfortunately, Ellen only managed twenty minutes. Her legs felt heavy. She hadn’t exercised all week, apart from rushing up and down stairs to take Linda Armitage a cup of tea while she wallowed in her own bed. She felt sluggish. Maybe once this job was over with, she should have a word with her line sergeant about moving away from the whole FLO thing. It wasn’t for her.
A bottle of ice-cold water and a quinoa salad in the canteen of the gym and Ellen was feeling something close to human once again. She scrolled through her phone and replied to a few texts she’d received overnight, one of which was from DC Kesinka Rani who asked if she was still coming over this afternoon for a visit. She’d completely forgotten all about that. Ellen wasn’t overly fond of children, and never understood why people cooed over babies. They didn’t do anything except lie there eating, screaming, and crapping. Where was the joy in that? However, a couple of hours with Kesinka and the baby (whose name she’d forgotten) would take her mind off the Armitage family.