Page 5

5

Sunday morning

Patsy was hysterical. Charlie had to drag her physically away from Unwin’s body and hold on to her at the top of the stairs as he called Eddy to come right now, this minute. Then, still holding Patsy, who was sobbing into his shoulder, Charlie rang DI Ravensbourne, insisting she sit down before telling her what they had found.

“He’s definitely dead?” Ravensbourne asked. Then, “Of course he is. My apologies Charlie, I’m being a fool. It’s just the shock. I’m on my way.”

It was the same question anyone would ask, even someone as experienced as Ravensbourne. Because who could believe in the violent death of someone they knew and liked? Charlie’s head swam, and he wanted to sit down until it cleared. He recognised the signs of shock, and the beginnings of sorrow – for Patsy’s loss as much as for Unwin.

Charlie’s next call was to Scenes of Crime, and then the pathologist’s office, hoping the person on duty would be Hector Powell. It was.

“It’s going to get very hot, Dr Powell, and my guess is that he — the deceased — has been here all night,” Charlie said. “It’s a colleague, Josh Unwin. One of the tech guys from HQ.” In other words, Please hurry up .

There was no sign of Eddy, so Charlie put his arm round Patsy, ignoring his own light-headedness, and told her that they needed to go downstairs.

“I want to stay with him,” Patsy said, trying to pull away.

“No. And that’s an order.” The odour of death was going to start as the temperature rose. They were on the top floor of the building, right under the roof. He didn’t want this to be Patsy’s memory of Unwin. He needed information from her, and he needed to get organised. Where the hell was Eddy? “Patsy. Downstairs. This is a crime scene, and we need to get it secured.” She gave in, with obvious reluctance. To be fair, he didn’t want to leave Unwin’s body alone, but he wanted Patsy out of the way more. He set off down the stairs, supporting her, but not giving her any choice about descending.

A pounding on the stairs indicated Eddy’s arrival. He was red-faced and already had sweat marks under his arms.

“Sorry, boss, what’s up? Hey, Pats, what’s the matter?” Eddy’s change of expression indicated that he had caught the faint smell of decomposition. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s Unwin. He’s dead.” Charlie jerked his head upstairs.

“Our Unwin? Patsy’s Unwin?”

Charlie didn’t need to answer. Patsy’s face was enough.

“Oh, shit,” he said again, and held his arms out for Patsy. “Come here, love.”

“Next of kin,” Charle said. “And get her somewhere private.”

Eddy nodded. “Will do. But, boss, not that it’s important compared to … Unwin … you need to know that there’s racist graffiti, down the alley by the Town Hall. That’s where I was. It’s been seen. People have taken pictures. I was putting tape up when you called.”

Great. Just fucking great.

Charlie’s phone rang. “Rees,” he said automatically assuming the call related to the fire, the dead body or even the graffiti.

“Charlie,” Tom said, “what’s going on? The girls say there has been a fire in the middle of town. Is everyone OK?”

“I’ll ring you back,” Charlie said, and ended the call. He felt like a jerk, but he didn’t want to talk in front of the others.

The phone rang again, and again, it was Tom.

“Tom, things are seriously hectic. I really can’t talk.”

“Don’t hang up,” Tom said. Charlie didn’t, though it was a close-run thing. “Just ring me, and make it soon, OK?”

“I will, promise. But soon may not be very soon, sorry.” He looked at Patsy and felt the weight of her shock and grief. “I’m fine, love,” he said, “just up to my eyes. I’ll ring you.”

Eddy and Patsy were down to the first-floor landing. Charlie let out a breath and leaned against the wall for a moment. Unwin. What the hell had Unwin been doing in an empty shop? Why was he even in Llanfair when he’d spoken to him at HQ earlier in the day? How could Unwin be dead? There was work to do, and the number of people to do it was shrinking by the minute. Thankfully, when his phone rang yet again, he looked to see who it was rather than snapping “ What now? ”

It was Alun Evans MP, and he wanted to know about racist graffiti. Apparently, pictures were already on social media, and what were the police going to do about it?

Add it to the fucking list, along with a suspicious death and suspected arson. And yes. I do know it’s important, but so is everything else. Deep breath and get on with the job.

“Sir. I need to tell you, in confidence for the moment, that there has been a fire — probably arson — in an empty shop. The shop was previously occupied by a minority-owned business. In addition, we have discovered a deceased person in the shop. We are treating the death as suspicious.”

Charlie heard a sharply indrawn breath from the other end.

“What?” Alun Evans said abruptly.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t tell you any more, and I absolutely must insist you do not share this information. I will ensure we keep you updated.”

“Are these things related?”

Charlie wished he knew. “At this stage, I don’t know. We literally found the body within the last few minutes.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Obviously, I’ll condemn the graffiti and express my support for the police. For now, I’ll let you get on with your job. If you need anything I can provide, just ring.” He ended the call.

Charlie vowed then and there to vote for Evans at the next election. In the meantime, … he ran down the stairs. Eddy was waiting with Jeff Britton, and a white-faced Patsy, who was sitting on a pile of old pallets staring at the ground. The priority had to be informing Unwin’s next of kin, but he also needed to know what Britton had discovered about the fire.

“Mr Britton. I’d like you to go with my colleague, and tell him everything you know about how this fire started, and everything you did since you arrived here this morning. OK?”

Britton nodded, and Charlie looked pointedly at Eddy. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her,” he said.

Eddy put a hand on Britton’s elbow and steered him into the yard at the back of the shop. “The police station is only a couple of minutes’ walk,” he said, “And I’ll brew up.”

“I know where it is,” Britton said. “I’ll see you there in five. Gotta make a couple of calls.”

Charlie sat next to Patsy on the pallets, putting his arm round her shoulders. They were still in the shade of the building, though it was hot enough that the physical contact with another person was unpleasant.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “This is awful.”

Patsy drew in a shuddering breath. “I love him. We were going to move in together, to get onto the property ladder. Become grown-ups. What am I going to do without him? Charlie, what am I going to do?”

“Help me find out what happened. It won’t bring him back, but …” He paused. “We need to tell his next of kin before someone finds out and posts it all over the socials. Do you know who that is?”

Patsy nodded, and pulled her mobile from her uniform shirt pocket. “His parents live in Pentrebach. It’s the first house you come to in the village if you drive from here. A big bungalow. White. Solar panels on the roof.” She scrolled through her contacts list and forwarded a number to him. His phone pinged and he read Gerald and Tansy U , with a number.

“Thanks,” Charlie said.

But Patsy hadn’t finished. “There’s someone else who needs to know.” She paused. “Dylan. Unwin’s boyfriend.”

“Unwin’s boyfriend,” Charlie said stupidly, before he pulled himself together. If he was honest, he wasn’t completely surprised. More to the point, Patsy didn’t need to have to deal with Charlie’s reactions when she’d lost her partner.

Charlie looked at the time on his phone. Less than twenty minutes since he called Ravensbourne, and the drive from HQ would take at least another ten minutes. The total available police resource in Llanfair consisted of him and Eddy, and the town was beginning to wake up. No way was Patsy in any fit state to work, even if she wasn’t precluded from being involved in the investigation of her boyfriend’s death. They needed Jeff Britton’s statement, but above all, he needed to tell Unwin’s parents what had happened, and that meant finding some warm bodies to stop any of the looky-loos deciding to have a nosy around the burned shop. Not for the first time, Charlie wished it was possible to clone himself. They were going to have to wait for reinforcements, and just hope the Unwins kept off social media for the next hour.

“Tell me about this Dylan,” he said.

Patsy wiped her eyes with her fingers. “Me and Unwin are ENM — ethically non-monogamous. Both free to see other people as long as we’re open and honest. Unwin is bi, and he’s been seeing Dylan for a few months. He’s a nice guy, Dylan I mean.”

Charlie saw the moment Patsy remembered that Unwin was dead and watched her face crumple and the tears begin to flow again. He tightened his arms around her and let her cry. Because right now, some things were more important than the demands of his job.