Time to Die

‘Can you do me a favour?’ Claire asked, as Je

‘Of course,’ Je

‘We have a new starter this afternoon. Her name is Zoe. She’s only twenty-six. I’d like you to take her under your wing, help her settle in.’

‘Sure,’ Je

‘And if she asks about the operation name, tell her she can thank DI Cole. I think our boss fancies himself as a black James Bond.’

‘It’s better than the “Supernatural Homicide Investigation Team”, as suggested by Will.’ Je

Claire nodded. ‘Men in black we ain’t. We’re still coppers and a crime is a crime, regardless of who’s doing the mopping up.’

DI Ethan Cole poked his head through the door, making Claire jump. A well-dressed and classically handsome young man, he didn’t have any psychic skills that Je

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said, addressing them both. ‘I was wondering if Je

Je

‘Sure thing, boss,’ Je

[#]

She pushed open the back doors to the outside yard, welcoming the crisp, fresh air into her lungs. Spring was finally in bloom, and the weak afternoon sun battled its way through the clouds that had not long since shed a fine mist of rain.

‘Is this the hanging they were talking about earlier?’ Je

‘Yes, it’s another suicide by the sound of it,’ Ethan said, pushing back the car passenger seat to accommodate his long legs. ‘The victim isn’t even from around here. I wish people would kill themselves in their hometowns, and save me the paperwork.’

‘You should be a spokesperson for the Samaritans, boss,’ Je

The right side of Ethan’s mouth jerked upwards in his signature half smile. He was looking a lot happier now he and his father had put their differences behind them. Heading Operation Moonlight was something he embraced, and Je

‘The victim was found hung in his room,’ Ethan said. ‘There was no note, no sign of a struggle, and no forced entry. The informant mentioned a man posing as a fortune teller acting suspiciously the night before.’

As Ethan took the point-to-point call from the officer on scene, Je

‘Steady, you’ll miss the turning,’ Ethan said, pressing his foot on an imaginary brake.

‘Oops, sorry, I was miles away,’ she said, hastily skidding the unmarked Ford Focus into the car park of The Cherry Tree pub.

Ethan introduced himself to the landlord, who was carrying a tray of tea and slightly curled sandwiches to an elderly couple at the far end of the bar.

‘I’ll be with you in a minute,’ the thickset man said in a slow, tired drone.

‘Bit of a dive, isn’t it?’ Je

‘Yeah. I heard this place reopened, doesn’t look like he’s done much with it.’ Ethan lowered his voice as the barman returned and picked up a tea towel.

The landlord was surprisingly candid. ‘I’ll have to be quick. I’ve been ru

Ethan cast his eyes downwards, giving a curt nod. It was as close as he could get to offering sympathy. ‘You mentioned suspicious activity?’

He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to the pensioners picking at their lunch. ‘Old people and day trippers, that’s all we usually get in here. They like the specials. Mr Price and the bloke last night stuck out like sore thumbs.’

Je

The barman finished his last glass and slung the tea towel over his shoulder.

‘Price was over here from America. His parents used to own this place so he’d been renting a room for old time’s sake, or so he said. Most nights he sat there, downing pints and chasers at the bar. Then this scruffy-looking bloke came in. He latched onto Price soon enough, blooming sponger. Are you getting all this down?’ he asked, watching Je

Je

‘He didn’t seem to have much money but I pulled him a pint of Gui

‘How long was he here?’

‘Long enough to spread some cards across my bar and read Price his future. I only heard bits, but he said Price was going to hang himself. I thought it was some kind of wind-up until I found him dead.’

‘Do you think they knew each other?’ Je

‘I doubt it. Can I get you a drink? A coffee maybe?’ The landlord looked at her hopefully.

Je

The man shrugged his shoulders, ‘I can’t say for sure, but he was as creepy as hell. I’ve worked behind bars long enough to be a good judge of character, and I didn’t like him one little bit.’

The landlord’s overheads did not stretch to CCTV, and Je

By the time Je

Ethan looked at his watch, keen to get away before he was roped into some strange manoeuvres with the corpse.

The outdated bedroom looked more like something from an episode of Most Haunted than a room guests would pay to sleep in. Discoloured woodchip paper hung limply on the walls, decorated by wisps of spider webs clinging to each corner of the room. A worn hemp rope hung from the thick beam overhead, and beneath it, a toppled wooden chair. In the corner of the room was an unmade single bed, beside a tightly shuttered Georgian window. The musty smell suggested it hadn’t been opened for some time. The smell also relayed the victim had soiled himself at the time of death, which made the cramped space unbearable. But Je