A Genuine Mistake by Ted Tayler (miss read books txt) 📗

and standing water on several of the roads across the Common. After a phone call and a flea in the head of the Environmental Protection Department's ear, a road sweeper visited Trowle Common and cleared the drains and gullies. It was common for the sweeper operator to find shoes, coins, mobile phones, and watches. When he spotted the small gun drop out, at first, he thought it was a novelty cigarette lighter. It wasn’t much bigger than the palm of his hand.”

“How far away from the house was the gun found?” asked Alex.

“Over a mile,” said Gus. “Yes, questions were asked why they hadn’t found it in May. John Kirkpatrick had limited resources, and as each day passed, the trail grew colder. They confined the search area to several hundred yards around the property. The Beretta went for forensic examination and proved to be the murder weapon. There were no fingerprints. The pistol had sat in a drain for five months, and every criminal worth his salt removes every trace of DNA before discarding a weapon.”

“So, the detectives had a body and the murder weapon,” said Lydia, “but no motive.”

“That about sums it up,” said Gus. “I reckon we should call it a day for today. We start looking for that motive in the morning.”

  CHAPTER 3

Gus glanced at the clock on the office wall as he headed for the lift. It was half-past four. He hoped the others made full use of the extra free time. Gus had a feeling they were in for a tough week.

The drive home to Urchfont wasn’t as painful today. Gus tried to forget that he could be in the sweet spot between the end of the school run and the commuter crush by leaving thirty minutes earlier each day. Fat chance of that happening.

When he drew up in front of Tess’s climbing roses, he remembered his first task once he got indoors. A hunt for their Last Will and Testament. Suzie wasn’t home yet. He had thirty minutes at least before she made it here from London Road.

Gus collected the mail from the doormat and laid it on the hallway table. A glance told him it was mostly junk mail and letters re-directed from Worton Farm. He laid his jacket on the back of a chair in the kitchen and wondered where to start.

The logical place was the main bedroom for most people, but Tess had had a system. If it wasn’t going to get looked at again, like the free local newspaper, then it went straight into the recycling bin. If she or Gus received a letter that referenced a date for an appointment or an event they wanted to attend, the details went on the kitchen's His and Hers calendar. The letter and its envelope could then get shredded. In due course, the contents of the shredder transferred to the recycling bin.

Gus went along with this draconian system because it dramatically affected the amount of rubbish the couple gathered. He knew only too well from visits to witnesses' and suspects’ homes that people hoarded all sorts of items. They barely had room to move, and because there was so much trash, they couldn’t find a blessed thing.

Gus had let the system slip since Tess died. He had ditched the His and Hers calendar and made sure that whichever type he bought as the New Year dawned; it had enough space each day to keep a record of appointments and notable events in his social calendar.

His hand hovered over the door handle, and he tried to visualise the contents of the various drawers and cupboards in the main bedroom—a large brown envelope with antique lettering, something that looked official. Gus was sure that he would have seen it in the past few months, especially since Suzie burst into his life. Suzie wasn’t always hoovering and polishing every spare minute, but she did help to keep the bungalow neat and tidy.

As Suzie searched for places to stow her bits and pieces, she would mention seeing a drawer or a shelf that she might put to better use. Gus soon reasoned that there was one place that Suzie would have left undisturbed. The dressing-table drawer in the spare bedroom. The room he would soon have to start calling the nursery.

He and Suzie had stood in the spare room at the weekend and discussed how to redecorate it. Something more practical and modern would replace the old dressing table. The full-sized bed had to disappear. Gus opened the drawer and a hint of Tess’s favourite scent, Chloe, escaped into the atmosphere.

Gus had never got around to throwing away the personal items that retained so much of his memories of Tess. When Suzie had told him she was moving in, he’d transferred them to the spare bedroom. He hadn’t wanted Suzie to feel that he was clinging to the past and not committing himself one hundred percent to their relationship.

Suzie was the only person to have slept in that back room since he’d moved here from Downton. He thought the items would remain undisturbed for decades when he switched the drawer's contents from the main bedroom. Little did he know it would get used in a few months for a new arrival.

Gus opened the drawer and removed the chiffon scarf Tess had treasured that he’d used to cover her things. He picked up the brush that still held strands of her greying hair. He ran his fingers over the necklace he’d given Tess on her thirtieth birthday. Was it time to let them go?

Gus remembered the occasion when he’d returned home, and someone had trashed the place. The gangsters who murdered poor Frank North had left Gus a message. The police found an Order of Service printed with his computer and printer lying on top of this chiffon scarf. That death threat letter