I enjoyed writing about DCI Ian Coggins and his wife that a prequel seemed to be in order. I hope that you agree. Work is in progress but I’m putting up the first chapter as a taster.
TITLE TO BE DECIDED:
PREFACE
THE WANDERER
All that I have is a modicum of hope and an ocean set with stars. A few planks of wood and an oil cloth for a love as rich as ours.
I cross this space to reach your arms and the glories that you hold. With a promise of love and a small silver ring our story will unfold.
Chapter 1
The room was bright and airy but the abandoned walking frame and functional high-backed chair cast an invisible shadow over everything. A dusting of grief had settled on all the trinkets lined up on the sideboard. Memories of a life now mourned for. Pain had sucked joy from the room and sorrow left a taste on the tongue that only a brisk walk in the fresh air would remove.
Sargeant Ian Coggins straightened his shoulders and surveyed the scene. What was missing, what needed to be seen? Slowly he scanned the room looking for what would help him shift this investigation forward. In his mind he slowly recounted the facts that were known: Female, Adelle Harmers, 54, white, divorced. Photos around the walls suggested there was a married daughter but no apparent sign of grandchildren. It would be Monday before he could access bank accounts and phone records. So, he needed to assess the scene as it was now and await further information. The sound of church bells floated in through the open window and his eye came to rest on a notebook resting on the edge of the book shelf. He could tell by the lack of dust that it had been moved recently. He cleared his throat and asked the crime scene photographer to document and bag it as evidence. His voice seemed harsh and domineering in the busy silence that surrounded him.
Reluctantly Ian had to bring his attention to the body sprawled out in a dry pool of blood and fear. The attack had been incredibly violent. This was more than just murder. Every blow had been filled with an intense hatred and violence. The white suit of a pathologist was bent over the deceased trying to identify key data before removing her. Outside neighbours stood in hushed shock, all sombre but strangely fascinated and busy drawing their own conclusions as to what had happened the previous evening. A thin cordon of police tape and a solitary officer was all that was holding them back from the scene inside. Ian had already dispatched officers to make door to door enquiries. He’d needed to act fast whilst everything was fresh.
A wave of nausea swept over the detective so that he stepped back into the hall and turned to face the bedroom. He glanced at the pill organiser on the bedside table. Each one held a plethora of coloured pills. One pack was sat on top of a Hymn Book but looked to be untouched. He would need to speak with her GP to get a full medical history. Everything seemed orderly, simple and unassuming. A quiet person, living an inobtrusive life in a sleepy little cul-de-sac. But something had changed that had upset the equilibrium. There was something here that needed to be discovered.
With a slow, thoughtful sigh, Ian turned, glanced briefly at the shoes and coats in the hall, he walked past the folded wheelchair, glanced into a neat shower-room and stepped outside into the bright June morning.
Her carer had found her and was currently giving a tearful statement to an officer in the back of a police car. Ian walked under the tape and nodded to a fellow officer standing guard. He looked at his car sat in full sun with all the windows up and opted for a slow walk down a tree-lined path to a seat beside the river. Here away from the sights and smells of the crime scene he contemplated as ducks called and splashed and a jackdaw cawed in annoyance at a cat sat in the lower branches of a sycamore tree.
After a few minutes the rumbling in Ian’s stomach reminded him that he hadn’t had breakfast and that a spot of brunch on the way back to the station might be in order. He wandered slowly back to his car, opened the door and felt a wave of heat hit him. He paused to allow cooler air to enter then sat in and immediately lowered all the windows. Slowly he manoeuvred his vehicle from in amongst the tangle of patrol cars and vans that had taken temporary residence in far end of River Gardens. He drove away with thoughts of a bacon and egg bap and a large coffee front and centre in his mind. Other things would have to wait!
Erika Lightbear 