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Fenton was as tall as Gardener. He weighed around twelve stone, and his features were similar to his SIO. He had short black hair, a rugged complexion, and maintained a reasonably slim physique. Gardener had long since become accustomed to Fenton’s eyes, which differed in colour from day to day. The contact lenses had confused him, at first.
Fenton took a sip of coffee and sat down, arranging his treasure trove in order. He held up a clear plastic bag. “This is the good news.”
“What is it?”
“A piece of torn cloth, from a pair of Levi’s by the look of it. I know it’s only small, and probably bloody hard to follow up on, but it’s something. We found it in the cellar. About halfway down the steps, there’s a nail sticking out. You’d have to be unlucky to catch it, but someone has.”
“Excellent,” replied Gardener. “Let’s get someone on that,” he said to Sergeant Williams. “I know it’s laborious, but leg-work is like that. It can also be invaluable. Get someone to call on all the local clothes shops, see if anyone recognizes it.”
“Could be more difficult than that, sir,” said Cragg. “Bramfield is a market town. We might have to speak to the traders, see if they can shed some light. Trouble is, they’re not always around.”
“That’s assuming whoever did it bought them locally,” offered Williams.
“It’s also possible that it doesn’t belong to our suspect at all,” said Gardener. “Might be from a pair of Alex Wilson’s jeans.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr Gardener,” said Williams. “But it’s possible the torn piece hasn’t come from Pollard’s clothes either. He was wearing black trousers.”
“He was when we picked him up, Sergeant, but I suspect Wilson has been down there for some time, a few days, maybe. So it is still possible that Pollard is our man.” Gardener turned to Fenton. “What about prints from the cellar?”
“Only Wilson’s and Armitage’s so far, sir. None that belong to Pollard, or anyone else that we can find, for that matter, but it’s going to take time to go through the entire scene.”
“Have we got Armitage’s prints on file?” asked Gardener, struggling to believe the old man could have any previous.
“I asked if he’d mind,” said Cragg. “Only so as we could eliminate him from the investigation.
Gardener was beginning to like Cragg. He would have been pleased to have him on his team.
“Okay. David,” he turned Sergeant Williams, “can you organize a warrant for the search of Pollard’s premises? I want his clothes, his computer, and anything else connected to the investigation.”
Gardener turned to Fenton. “Wilson’s clothes will be easy enough to gather. They should all be in his flat. What else have we found there?”
“Nothing,” said Fenton.
“What do you mean?”
“According to Thornton and Anderson, Wilson’s flat is empty. Like his phone, everything in his life seems to have been cleared. There are no clothes, no bedding, no towels, or anything personal. No drugs, no cleaning materials. Absolutely nothing. Someone’s done a real job on wiping him out.”
Gardener glanced at Reilly, but said nothing.
Fenton continued. “The only thing in the flat is a computer, which was probably his, but that’s also been cleaned. In fact, the hard drive has been completely removed.”
Gardener stood up and paced the room a little. “What the hell is going on here? Maurice, can you ring Armitage and tell him we’re sending a car round? I’d like him back at the flat as soon as possible.”
Gardener addressed Fenton again. “So, if there was something on his hard drive that linked him to his killer, the killer probably knew about it?”
“Either that, or he was taking no chances,” replied Fenton. “Maybe you should speak to Thornton and Anderson later on, see what they have found out.”
Gardener glanced at the Faraday bags. “Two phones?”
He picked up one of the bags.
“This phone was Alex Wilson’s. Like his computer, memory completely wiped, except for one text message. It’s short and sweet, and threatening: a little knowledge is a dangerous thing – especially in your case.”
“Where did you find that?” asked Gardener.
“In the basement, not far from Wilson’s body.”
Gardener sat down. Whoever they were dealing with had a high level of intelligence and had been very thorough.
