I’ve seen all the police officers I can stand this week. Snooping into this and that.’
‘I was concerned. Concerned someone was stealing from you.’
‘No one is stealing from me, Eric. You’re concerned that I’m too old and too senile to handle my own money. Just say it. You pretend to be concerned, pretend to have my interests at heart, but you’re only interested in yourself.’
Her words hurt and he swallowed hard before replying. She put him in the same category as her husband, her father, her sister and all the others who’d let her down. ‘It’s not like that at all. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of you and nor does DS Dales or that lovely young DC. But I won’t mention it again. I’m sorry.’ He wanted to avoid confrontation. The outburst earlier today had been both embarrassing and a clear indicator of how volatile she’d become.
‘Thank you, Eric.’ She took the ceramic teacup by the curved handle, just big enough for her finger, and drank. Eric picked up his, as he’d been waiting to do since setting the tray down. ‘I don’t want to see that policeman again.’
‘Sergeant Dales?’
‘Or that policewoman.’
‘They may want to ask you some questions about Sheila.’
‘They won’t want to do that, I’m sure. I wasn’t even at the hotel that morning.’
‘Valerie, she was your niece. And you own the hotel she died in. Once they find that out, they’ll want to speak to you, I’m sure of it.’ Semples knew how these things went. He’d been subject to investigations in his military career. The redcaps didn’t leave a stone unturned and he doubted the domestic police would either. ‘It won’t be long, just basic questions about the family relationship, I expect. They know you weren’t there, so they won’t be putting you in the back of a van and carting you off to the station.’ The joke fell flat. His smile wasn’t returned.
‘No, they won’t, Eric. They won’t find anything untoward at all, will they?’
‘No. No, they won’t.’ He knew when it was time to retreat.
‘Do you plan on telling them, Eric?’
‘Certainly not me, Valerie.’
‘Good.’ She looked at the grandfather clock, put down her teacup and stood up. ‘Now, I must go to the study.’
‘I do wish you’d spend less time up there. It’s not good for you. Let’s go for a walk out in the real world, it’s an unusually pleasant day and there’s still an hour or so of light.’
‘I’ve got things to do, Eric. And so have you. I suggest you use that hour of light as best you can.’
Semples sighed. He put on his coat and driver's cap and headed for the door.
Eleven
Sarah came in early, filled out the section 8 warrant paperwork and went into DI Manford’s office to ask him to sign it. Search warrants had to be signed by an inspector before approaching a magistrate. Even though inspectors were generally supportive of their officers’ efforts to plan and execute warrants, it still felt like a sales pitch.
Manford looked through the paperwork. The first few pages were duplicate copies: one for the file, one for the magistrate and one for the occupant of the searched premises. ‘Not a drugs warrant?’
‘We’re not strictly looking for drugs. Just for the phone. The phone’s linked to the indictable offence of supply. Finding the phone may lead us to further drugs offences or to a witness who can fill in the gaps in her final night,’ said Sarah.
Manford rubbed his chin. ‘Section 8 works for that. What do we know about the address? Tower Road’s a well-to-do area, right?’
‘We were there yesterday. We spoke to the occupant, Sally-Anne Moretti, who showed us a phone, but not the one we were after. Sergeant Dales knows her from his days on the drugs unit. We could only nose around so far without a power to search the place.’
‘I doubt a magistrate would have authorised a warrant without you attending first, in any case. They’d be reluctant to grant the power
‘I was concerned. Concerned someone was stealing from you.’
‘No one is stealing from me, Eric. You’re concerned that I’m too old and too senile to handle my own money. Just say it. You pretend to be concerned, pretend to have my interests at heart, but you’re only interested in yourself.’
Her words hurt and he swallowed hard before replying. She put him in the same category as her husband, her father, her sister and all the others who’d let her down. ‘It’s not like that at all. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of you and nor does DS Dales or that lovely young DC. But I won’t mention it again. I’m sorry.’ He wanted to avoid confrontation. The outburst earlier today had been both embarrassing and a clear indicator of how volatile she’d become.
‘Thank you, Eric.’ She took the ceramic teacup by the curved handle, just big enough for her finger, and drank. Eric picked up his, as he’d been waiting to do since setting the tray down. ‘I don’t want to see that policeman again.’
‘Sergeant Dales?’
‘Or that policewoman.’
‘They may want to ask you some questions about Sheila.’
‘They won’t want to do that, I’m sure. I wasn’t even at the hotel that morning.’
‘Valerie, she was your niece. And you own the hotel she died in. Once they find that out, they’ll want to speak to you, I’m sure of it.’ Semples knew how these things went. He’d been subject to investigations in his military career. The redcaps didn’t leave a stone unturned and he doubted the domestic police would either. ‘It won’t be long, just basic questions about the family relationship, I expect. They know you weren’t there, so they won’t be putting you in the back of a van and carting you off to the station.’ The joke fell flat. His smile wasn’t returned.
‘No, they won’t, Eric. They won’t find anything untoward at all, will they?’
‘No. No, they won’t.’ He knew when it was time to retreat.
‘Do you plan on telling them, Eric?’
‘Certainly not me, Valerie.’
‘Good.’ She looked at the grandfather clock, put down her teacup and stood up. ‘Now, I must go to the study.’
‘I do wish you’d spend less time up there. It’s not good for you. Let’s go for a walk out in the real world, it’s an unusually pleasant day and there’s still an hour or so of light.’
‘I’ve got things to do, Eric. And so have you. I suggest you use that hour of light as best you can.’
Semples sighed. He put on his coat and driver's cap and headed for the door.
Eleven
Sarah came in early, filled out the section 8 warrant paperwork and went into DI Manford’s office to ask him to sign it. Search warrants had to be signed by an inspector before approaching a magistrate. Even though inspectors were generally supportive of their officers’ efforts to plan and execute warrants, it still felt like a sales pitch.
Manford looked through the paperwork. The first few pages were duplicate copies: one for the file, one for the magistrate and one for the occupant of the searched premises. ‘Not a drugs warrant?’
‘We’re not strictly looking for drugs. Just for the phone. The phone’s linked to the indictable offence of supply. Finding the phone may lead us to further drugs offences or to a witness who can fill in the gaps in her final night,’ said Sarah.
Manford rubbed his chin. ‘Section 8 works for that. What do we know about the address? Tower Road’s a well-to-do area, right?’
‘We were there yesterday. We spoke to the occupant, Sally-Anne Moretti, who showed us a phone, but not the one we were after. Sergeant Dales knows her from his days on the drugs unit. We could only nose around so far without a power to search the place.’
‘I doubt a magistrate would have authorised a warrant without you attending first, in any case. They’d be reluctant to grant the power
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