Page 59 of Glasshouses

To the left was a shed, weather worn and fragile, with wood that hadn’t been treated in years. Recent feet had trampled down the grass towards it, so I diverted us another way, taking a video to show where we’d been.

I pulled gloves out of my pocket, passing a pair to Verity. They were a staple, always to be found in whichever coat I was wearing which was sometimes a little weird if I was ever out socialising.

The shed was closed with a hook and eye lock, the original maybe because it certainly wasn’t new. There was no window to peer though, so I opened the door and saw a large, plastic laundry bag, filled with something, although I couldn’t see what. The shed was small, six by four, and filled with cobweb covered nursery pots, a few long dead plants and gardening tools. The bag was an anomaly; the only thing not covered in time’s detritus.

“We need a CSI down here. I want to know what’s in that bag.”

Verity peered over my shoulder. “It stinks of white spirit.”

“I really can’t smell anything.”

“I don’t know how you can’t. Are you starting with a cold, because if you are, keep your distance.” She backed away. “I’ll go and get someone from forensics.”

I took a few photos, trying to stretch inside and hold my phone over to see if I could catch sight of what was inside.

My phone rang, causing me to almost drop it, Wrigley the person who would’ve been blamed.

“Mia, can you get over to Cale Cauldwell’s house? His gran’s asked a neighbour to let you in so you can get his laptop. Get it to forensics to pull off the videos of where he’s been urban exploring.” No pleasantries, no how’s things, just a direct order. I was going to miss him when he’d retired in a strange way.

“I’ll head there straight after this. We’ve found a shed on the Roselea estate; looks like something recent has been stored in there.” I gave him a quick low down even though he hadn’t asked for it, moving out of the way as soon as one of the CSIs got there. “How’s Cade?”

“Hanging on. He’s stabilised and the doctors are hopeful. I’m leaving one of the FLOs with his gran and heading back to the station. We’re getting everyone together at ten, then you can go home for the weekend.” I heard tiredness in his own voice.

“I can carry on.”

“I will have someone call you if anything breaks. Nick Sweeting’s just got back from holiday so he’ll join the team. I’ll see you at ten.” He hung up, already speaking to someone else.

The CSI was called Jill, and she got to work on the big reveal. “I’ll take the bag back and dust for prints at the lab. This sort of material is gold for finding fingerprints so I’d be surprised if we don’t get something.” She unfolded the top of it, opening it up.

Piles of paper and notepads were stashed in there, some cardboard folders and old lever arch files as well.

I glanced at Verity. “Do you reckon this could be from Amanda’s house?” I shifted so I could see in the bag. “You know what? It is.”

“How do you know?” Verity said, not able to squash her way in. “What’s in there?”

“It looks like accounts, or some of it does. There’s a deed to a property too.” I stood back and gave Jill more room. “Are you taking this back with you?”

“I’ll bag it as evidence, dust for fingerprints and then get it over to you. Should be this afternoon depending on what else we find or if anything else comes in.” She was joined by another of her team.

Verity watched, asking questions as they checked elsewhere in the shed, nothing else materialising. I was itching to go through the paperwork we’d found, see if it had anything to do with what had been found secreted in Amanda’s bedside cabinet.

That had just been sheets of invoices for gardening equipment, apart from one page, which was what looked like a handwritten accounts ledger, but we had no idea what from.

I explained to Verity where I was heading, and instructed her to oversee what was being processed by the CSIs, knowing full well that she didn’t need my instruction – she was more than capable now, then I headed back to my car, tiredness catching up on me, just when I needed to be awake and alert.

I accepted that I had a significant fear of missing out and that there was nothing I could do about it.

I bought a large, black coffee before going into the Fishbowl, realising I hadn’t eaten any breakfast, but was too tired to think about it. In another reality, I’d just finished parkrun, and was heading home to shower and then continue ripping tiles off walls, because Taz was going to teach me how to plaster this afternoon.

“Is that for me?” Vinny swooped down next to my desk and tried to commit a heinous crime.

“Absolutely fuck off.” I grasped the takeout cup with both hands and clutched on even though it was a million degrees.

“Oh dear, are we a little tired?”

“Fuck off, Vinny.” I turned away from him, crumpled on my desk chair. “I was woken up at three because you weren’t answering.”

“Wrigley didn’t even try to call me.” He sat down on my desk, his backside too close to my face for comfort. “How was your evening?”