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Reilly was wearing his usual attire of brown bomber jacket and jeans, and had his arms folded across his chest. He’d so far chosen to say very little. Gardener sensed he was studying the place. Nothing much escaped the Irishman.

As the detective glanced around the town, he noticed that the early starters in the business world were coming to life, the butcher and the baker to name but two.

He turned his attention back to PC Close. “What did you see when you arrived, Gary?”

“Nothing much, sir. The town was pretty still. I didn’t pass anyone on the way down here. Richard Jones had reported the incident. He was standing across there, outside The Golden Lion, with his bike. The front door of the shop was open, and there was a light on inside.”

“Have you checked anywhere else, round the back for instance?”

“I didn’t, but they did.” He pointed to PCs Nice and Graham.

“And you are?” Gardener asked. Both men acknowledged the senior officers and introduced themselves.

“And you didn’t see anything you considered unusual?”

“No, sir,” both men replied in harmony.

Gardener turned back to Close. “Have you seen anyone suspicious lurking around, Gary?”

The young PC didn’t answer straight away. Gardener picked up on it instantly.

“Why the hesitation? Is there something you’re not telling us? Or don’t want to?”

“It’s not that, sir. It’s just, I can’t be sure whether I actually saw someone or not. And when PC Graham arrived, he thought he had too, but when he checked the area, he didn’t find anyone.”

“Then let’s widen the search, shall we? Sean, take both PCs with you, search the toilets and the grounds of the church.”

Gardener watched all three of them leave before speaking to PC Close. “Suppose you describe what you saw in the shop, Gary.”

By the time Close had done so, Reilly and the two constables had returned with their mystery guest.

“Who’s this, Sean?”

“Wouldn’t talk to me, boss. Maybe he’s shy.”

Gardener asked Gary Close if he knew him. “Yes, it’s Jackie Pollard, local drug dealer. Or one of them, at least.”

“Is he, now? What have we been up to, Mr Pollard?” Gardener asked the man.

“Out for a walk. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Look at the trouble your walk has caused us,” replied Gardener. “We’re going to have to talk to you now, Pollard. I hope you’ll be a little more reasonable when we ask our questions.”

“You’re the one being unreasonable. I haven’t done anything.”

Gardener wasted no more time with the dealer. “You two, Graham and Nice, take him to the station and throw him in a cell. I’ll question him later.”

“You can’t do that,” shouted Pollard.

“Says who?” Gardener asked.

“I know my rights.”

“Good, then you’ll know why we’re detaining you.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t. You have nothing to hold me on.” Pollard had found some self-confidence that Gardener didn’t like.

“Try burglary on for size, Mr Pollard. We’ve been called to investigate commercial premises in the middle of the night. The door is open, and you’re found nearby. We’re lifting you for burglary until you can prove otherwise.”

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