Of Lights and Shadows (Book 4)

47) Defeat

Alone and still thinking about their meeting with Dastardious, Silence and Dutch crossed the road outside the plaza and commenced to walk up it.

We should probably split up, don't you think? And decided which of us is to go where.

Wrote Silence as they walked on in silence. He handed the note to Dutch.

'Yes. We should. I'll go to the scene of the crime; you can work out Mulligan's movements for the night in question. We're both better suited to those jobs. Agreed?'

Wordlessly Silence nodded.

'I swiped Dastardious's phone from storage as we were passing,' carried on Dutch as he stopped and held out his arm for a taxi. 'He doesn't need it and probably won't ever need it again so I'm sure he won't mind. If you get news of anything you can grab a hold of me. I'll catch you later,' he called out of the window as the taxi that had pulled up for him drove away.

The pavement outside the shop was deserted as Dutch walked up and tried the door. It was locked, but that was no problem. After a short walk down the road, he found the entrance to the alley and entered before making his way back up it to the back door of the shop. At another time of day he would have considered breaking in from the front but his taxi had decided to stay parked outside the front door. Using the process he had used earlier, Dutch kicked out with his leg and the door cracked and flew open. Stepping inside he closed the door behind him.

Dastardious had said the murder had taken place on the second floor, so Dutch found the stairs and climbed to the upstairs room. Even four days after the crime the door still held police tape on it. Ignoring it, Dutch listened quietly through the door for any sounds of activity before entering. The room inside was large and bare, completely empty. The floor was made of wood and the walls were painted white. There was a large blot of blood and brains where Frank Coldon's head had splattered all over the wall, which they hadn't cleaned up yet. Walking into the room for the first time there was no chance that you would miss it, it caused Dutch pause in his tracks as he took it in.

He had heard that the back of the Coldon's head had been blown open, but he hadn't thought of the image. He heard the words but his mind didn't supply the picture. He had been completely unprepared for it. It was a messy death, he concluded as he walked over to the white chalk outline of where the body had slid to the floor. No, not slid, the blood was in the wrong place, it was directly behind where the man's head had sat. Whoever had killed him sat him down first.

There were a few possibilities that ran through Dutch's head as he crouched and looked at the splatter on the wall, but each one didn't matter. He wasn't supposed to be looking at how Coldon was killed, but, rather, who had killed him.

Standing up, he turned slowly in a full circle and took in all the room. There was only one window, and the curtains were drawn. Were they drawn when Coldon was shot? If Dutch had chosen to shoot someone he would have made sure they were closed. He dismissed the theory; the body was too far away from the window for anyone down on the road to see in.

Dutch turned away and proceeded to check the floor, something could have slipped through the cracks between the boards. He stood up five minutes later with no luck; there was no way anything would slip through the cracks. There were none.

There were also no markings on the floor, no prints left by dirty shoes, no scuffing on the wood. Looking back over to where he had walked in he could see slight prints on the wood from the dust on the bottom of his shoes. The shop floor downstairs had been quite dusty, so anyone walking up would have to have left prints. Why not? The sad conclusion was that the murderer had cleared them away, and if he had taken the time to do that... Dejected, Dutch turned away and walked slowly down the stairs. The room was a waste of time; he would be able to find nothing.