Chapter 64

64

It was dark by the time Lottie pulled up at Hill Point apartments. Her stomach growled in protest. It was past the time to go home and cook dinner, or have it cooked for her if she was lucky. But she felt she was on to something. It might turn out to be nothing, but a gnawing in her belly that wasn't hunger kept her going.

The apartment door was opened by a young woman who told Lottie she'd been renting it for the last nine months. She knew nothing about the former tenant.

‘Try the caretaker,' she said, ‘Nick Carter.'

‘Was the apartment cleared out when you arrived?'

‘Yes. Refurbished and painted. I could still smell the paint, but it faded after a few days.'

‘And nothing belonging to the former tenant remained?'

‘Not a thing. Even the furniture was brand new.'

‘Thank you.' Lottie went back down the stairs wondering if the caretaker was still around. The office was on the ground floor, beside the dentist's surgery. She knocked and was surprised when the door opened. A stocky, sweating man was zipping up his bomber jacket.

‘Mr Carter? I'm Inspector Parker. Can I have a quick word before you leave?'

‘Sure. Walk me to my car. The wife rang to say my dinner is on the table, and if I'm not home in the next fifteen minutes, she'll chuck it in the bin.'

‘Really?'

‘I wouldn't put it past her, she's been so contrary recently. She hates the winter. I hate the winter. Dealing with burst pipes all day long. Do people not realise that in this weather you need?—'

‘Sorry, can I stop you there?' She realised he was the type of man to moan about his wife and life until she ran out of time to ask questions. ‘I wanted to ask you about Aneta Kobza. She lived in apartment 5C last year. Do you remember her?'

‘Let me think. 5C. Little Polish girl. Very pleasant. She'd paid her deposit and an advance for the month, think it was up to the end of last February, but I'd have to check. All cash, that's why I remember her. Then she upped and left without a goodbye or a thank you.'

‘She left suddenly?'

‘You could say that. Dishes in the sink, clothes in the wardrobe. Must have met a lad. Or hightailed it back to Poland.'

‘But why would she leave her clothes behind in either scenario?'

‘How would I know?'

‘Were you not curious?'

‘Look, Inspector… Parker, is it? Ha! Like nosy parker. Very good. You should see the state some people leave the apartments. Hers wasn't too bad. It had been earmarked to be redecorated anyhow.'

‘Was there any sign of a struggle? Or anything to say she might not have left voluntarily?'

‘I'd have called you lot if there was.'

‘What did you do with her belongings?'

‘Dumped whatever looked like crap. I must have packed the rest into her suitcase and stored it in lost and found.'

‘Where is this lost and found?'

‘A room behind my office. It's cleared out annually.'

‘Are her belongings still there?'

‘Should be.'

‘I need to see them.'

‘And I need to get home for my dinner. I can't afford a divorce and I'm bloody starving. Come back tomorrow.'

‘Please, Nick. I believe Aneta was murdered. It's imperative that I get access to anything belonging to her right this minute.'

‘Murdered? Holy God. What is this town coming to at all?' He glanced at his car, apparently debating which was the easier option. An irate detective or an angry wife. With Lottie standing in front of him scowling, he made the right choice.

‘Come on then, but you can talk to the wife and tell her why I'm going to be late.'

The caretaker opened the office and walked to a door located behind a steel-legged desk. No computer, only an old-fashioned ledger. He searched for a key on a clanging bunch he'd taken from his pocket. The light came on automatically when the door opened.

‘Should be in here someplace,' he muttered.

She was astounded at the array of belongings stacked to the ceiling. ‘I thought you said you cleared out the room annually?'

‘I do. This lot accumulated over the last twelve months. Some people won't pay for removers, recycling or refuse. They leave behind what they don't want to bring with them. Pain in the hole for me, excuse the expression.' He made his way through the narrow space, checking the boxes on either side.

‘Aha, here we are. One suitcase belonging to Miss Kobza.'

Lottie was amazed he'd found it so quickly. ‘You said you dumped other things she left behind. Would you have a record of what that consisted of?'

‘No way. Sure haven't I enough to be doing. It wouldn't have been much anyway – probably tatty ornaments. As far as I know she arrived with only this suitcase.'

‘Okay. I'll need to take it with me.'

‘Be my guest.'

The case was made of red material, with wheels. Good. As she went to drag it, she realised it was missing one wheel. Shit.

‘Hold your horses,' Nick said. ‘This box seems to be hers too.'

The cardboard box showed signs of nibbles, and Lottie shivered. Her phobia of those four-legged creatures caused the hairs to shoot up on the back of her neck. ‘Would you mind carrying it out to my car?'

‘You'll be wanting to come home with me and eat my dinner next,' he said with a grin. But he took the box and followed her out. She wouldn't mind some of his dinner, come to think of it.

After they'd loaded the case and box into the boot, she shook hands with Nick. ‘Thank you for your help.'

‘No bother at all. Glad to help the force.'

‘Why didn't you report Aneta missing?'

‘Inspector, people do a runner all the time. You'd be mired in paperwork if I was to report all the goings-on here.'

‘What was she like?'

‘Haven't much memory of her. Saw her the day she arrived. Handed her the keys and Bob's your uncle – not that I know if you have an Uncle Bob or not. She didn't come to my attention at all.'

‘If you think of anything, call me.' She handed him her card.

‘Sure will.' He pocketed the card and made his way to his car.

She sat into hers and watched him drive off. She had an identity for the murdered woman discovered that morning, and some of her possessions. Now she had to find out when and from where she'd disappeared. Was it possible she had been held somewhere for almost a year? And why had she been murdered now?

With three people dead and Shannon Kenny still missing, was it just one murderer she was searching for? Time would tell, and she didn't have any more time today. She needed to get home and eat.