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One of the police officers frowned. "Are you Tac...Tac...Miss Bell?"
"I am Miss Bell, but not Tacita," Octavia said, pronouncing her sister's name slowly in the hope they might remember it. "I'm Octavia, the other sister." And the other name on the lease, for when stuff like this happened and Tacey was too busy being mum of the year to deal with it.
They both looked relieved. "Did you leave the door open?"
"No, we always lock the café up for the night when we close. The manager from next door called me and said he heard breaking glass, but the door looks okay..." Octavia swallowed. There was a lot of glass inside. "Is it safe to go in?"
"With your permission, we can check for you."
Permission she was only too happy to give. She followed them in, though, not happy to stay outside. If there was damage, she needed to see it. Then sort it, before Tacey saw it.
At first, the café looked fine.
"Any idea where this came from?" one officer asked, pointing at the floor behind the counter.
Octavia took a deep breath, and stepped forward. There was glass everywhere, a whole carpet of shards and slivers so small, she'd have to vacuum it up to be sure she got it all.
The counter looked intact, though, along with all the glassware stacked along the wall. It took Octavia a long moment to realise the glass cabinet that sat on top of the counter beside the cash register, usually full of whatever pastries, cakes or muffins Tacey had made for the day, was missing.
"The cake cabinet, I guess," Octavia said. She tried to describe the size and shape with her hands. "It usually sits here, but it was really heavy. It took two of us to lift it, the last time we had to clean under it."
"Someone really hated that cabinet, then. A disgruntled customer, maybe?"
Octavia could only shake her head. "Everyone liked Tacey's muffins. Everybody. Even her gluten free ones were amazing, and actually gluten free, not like other places I could name. I don't know how it could be in so many pieces. I mean, even if you dropped it down the stairs and jumped up and down on it, you wouldn't be able to..." Octavia swallowed.
"What about if you bashed it with a brick?" the officer asked, nudging something half hidden beneath the counter with his foot. Sure enough, it was a brick – or half of one. It looked like it had come from the courtyard behind the backpackers, which also ran behind their building.
"I guess..." She couldn't imagine wanting to do something like that. Or anyone wanting to smash something of Tacey's. It was just...unimaginable. "Maybe they were angry that there was no money in the till, so they took it out on the nearest thing." She'd seen some of the guys up north at mine sites do crazy shit like that. On drugs, some of them, even with routine drug testing that was supposed to stop that, plus some of those guys had issues that went way beyond the need for anger management. There were whispers of criminal records and time in prison for violent crimes, but no one could ever actually confirm it, and she'd never wanted to hack into the personnel records to find out. Not that it took much hacking, when you managed all the IT systems, including the HR ones, but...there were some things you just didn't want to know. It was better to believe the best, as opposed to the worst of people.
The police officer didn't look like he believed it, but he didn't say so. Just kept going toward the kitchen.
The kitchen and the store room were untouched. Whoever had come in hadn't wanted food or cooking equipment.
"Looks like this is where they got in," said a voice from upstairs.
Where Octavia kept all her best equipment...
She raced up the stairs, two at a time, almost dizzy from holding her breath by the time she got to the top. She released her breath in a relieved hiss when she saw her computer was still there, and the storage box that held her camera equipment was still covered by the cloth that made it look like nothing more than a coffee table.
Yes, everything was still there, exactly as she'd left it before she headed north. The only sign that anyone had been here was the glass on the floor from the broken window. These shards were bigger, not smashed to powder like the cabinet downstairs.
The police officer leaned out the window. "Yep, it looks like they climbed up the drainpipe, then bent it over to the window so they could use it to climb in." He tapped on the floor. "Left some water here, too. You'll need to mop that up before it damages the floor boards, or leaks through the ceiling below."
"Don't you need to dust for fingerprints or something first?" Octavia said. Yes, cleaning up was important, but even more important was catching whoever had done this so it wouldn't happen again.
"Is there anyone who might have reasons to want to hurt you or your sister?" the officer asked.
"Only her ex, but he's in prison for trying to kill her," Octavia said. "He's not likely to be climbing drainpipes and smashing cabinets for quite a few years yet." Forever, if she had her way. The justice system had been way too lenient with Matt, probably because he was a white boy who went to a fancy private school. If he'd been anyone else... "Probably some drug addict looking for cash. I've seen other business owners put the empty cash drawer in the window when they close at night, so burglars know not to bother. Maybe we should try that." She tapped her foot impatiently, then winced at the crunch of glass under her shoe. "Can I start cleaning up now?"
"Just need to check for prints," the other officer said as he lumbered up the stairs.
It took another half hour before they were done, and she was allowed to lock the door behind them. Only then did she dig out the massive industrial vacuum cleaner to start on the café floor.
She filled it up twice and had to empty it into the dumpster out the back and she'd barely made a dent in the mess. At this rate, she'd be cleaning all night.
"Can I help with anything?"
Octavia dropped the vacuum hose in surprise.
