Read Online Two Wrongs (Detective Inspector Ross Reed Book 1) by Nathan Sayer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nathan Sayer
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Reed still had his fair share of paperwork, if not more than someone of a lower rank.
Now he was going to do two jobs in one go. He was taking his car to Butlers Motor Services. First reason being that his Volvo V40 was still not running as it should. It had developed a kind of split personality, working fine one day and struggling the next. The second reason being, it was the garage where David Jones worked. Jones was at the same nightclub as Carmella Chapman on the night she went missing. He also very quickly informed the police that Lee Gulliver had given Carmella a lift home that evening. The garage itself was located in Thetford; if they needed to keep the car overnight, Reed could call Kate to pick him up.
Reed was naturally suspicious of people; it was part of the job. It could be that Jones was just doing his best to help but unfortunately there was a surprising amount of people that could spot an opportunity to cause an old enemy some grief, or worse, direct any unwanted attention away from them. Until Reed had spoken to Jones himself, he couldn’t get a feel for his intentions.
The garage was much the same as any other private garage- dirty looking. A roller shutter door had a few dents in it and the small yard was bumper to bumper with cars. Even with Reed’s limited knowledge, it was obvious some of them were way beyond repair. He wasn’t entirely sure where to park without being in the way, so he gave up and parked directly in front of an open door hoping this would be a good way to get someone’s attention. When nobody was forthcoming to complain about his somewhat selfish positioning, he got out of his car and strayed into the main workshop.
“Be with you in a minute, mate.” A faceless voice said.
Reed didn’t feel the need to reply. As he stood looking around, he really didn’t understand why most garages had their interior walls painted white of all colours. Surely the fumes and oil were always going to win that particular battle.
“What can we do for you?” The voice spoke again, this time accompanied by a face. A face covered in grease, no older than 30. The square jaw and perfectly kept, short, spiky hair fitted in just right with the gym toned torso that was on show from the rolled down overalls.
“I’m Detective Inspector Reed. I’m looking for David Jones.”
“That’s me.” Jones admitted with a concerned look on his face.
“I was hoping you could spare me a few minutes regarding the night Carmella Chapman went missing?”
“Yes. Sure. I’ll take an early break.”
“Is there somewhere we could take a seat?” Reed asked.
“Yeah, sorry, you’ve got me all worried. I’m not thinking straight, this way.”
Jones led the way to a small office at the back of the garage. On the short walk to the office, he obviously felt the need to untie his overalls from around his waist and put them up over his shoulders and onto his arms. After he buttoned them up, they covered his whole body like they were designed to. Reed could only presume that he done this because of the present company-the garage was stuffy with lingering car fumes making the air feel thicker and warmer than it was outside so Reed wasn’t surprised that Jones had rolled his overalls down.
The office itself was windowless, fashioned from sheets of plasterboard to gain some privacy from the main workshop. There were sheets of paper pinned to every available space, a rail of key hooks, some occupied, some not. They sat on the only two chairs available.
“Like I said, there’s nothing to worry about, just a few questions. Did you know Carmella well?”
“Not really. We had a couple of mutual friends, spoke now and again.”
“Was Lee Gulliver a mutual friend?”
Jones lowered his head, just for a moment. He scratched at his ankle before returning eye contact. Reed took this to be a sign that maybe they weren’t friends, or at the very least, Jones needed to get the following words correct.
“Not
Now he was going to do two jobs in one go. He was taking his car to Butlers Motor Services. First reason being that his Volvo V40 was still not running as it should. It had developed a kind of split personality, working fine one day and struggling the next. The second reason being, it was the garage where David Jones worked. Jones was at the same nightclub as Carmella Chapman on the night she went missing. He also very quickly informed the police that Lee Gulliver had given Carmella a lift home that evening. The garage itself was located in Thetford; if they needed to keep the car overnight, Reed could call Kate to pick him up.
Reed was naturally suspicious of people; it was part of the job. It could be that Jones was just doing his best to help but unfortunately there was a surprising amount of people that could spot an opportunity to cause an old enemy some grief, or worse, direct any unwanted attention away from them. Until Reed had spoken to Jones himself, he couldn’t get a feel for his intentions.
The garage was much the same as any other private garage- dirty looking. A roller shutter door had a few dents in it and the small yard was bumper to bumper with cars. Even with Reed’s limited knowledge, it was obvious some of them were way beyond repair. He wasn’t entirely sure where to park without being in the way, so he gave up and parked directly in front of an open door hoping this would be a good way to get someone’s attention. When nobody was forthcoming to complain about his somewhat selfish positioning, he got out of his car and strayed into the main workshop.
“Be with you in a minute, mate.” A faceless voice said.
Reed didn’t feel the need to reply. As he stood looking around, he really didn’t understand why most garages had their interior walls painted white of all colours. Surely the fumes and oil were always going to win that particular battle.
“What can we do for you?” The voice spoke again, this time accompanied by a face. A face covered in grease, no older than 30. The square jaw and perfectly kept, short, spiky hair fitted in just right with the gym toned torso that was on show from the rolled down overalls.
“I’m Detective Inspector Reed. I’m looking for David Jones.”
“That’s me.” Jones admitted with a concerned look on his face.
“I was hoping you could spare me a few minutes regarding the night Carmella Chapman went missing?”
“Yes. Sure. I’ll take an early break.”
“Is there somewhere we could take a seat?” Reed asked.
“Yeah, sorry, you’ve got me all worried. I’m not thinking straight, this way.”
Jones led the way to a small office at the back of the garage. On the short walk to the office, he obviously felt the need to untie his overalls from around his waist and put them up over his shoulders and onto his arms. After he buttoned them up, they covered his whole body like they were designed to. Reed could only presume that he done this because of the present company-the garage was stuffy with lingering car fumes making the air feel thicker and warmer than it was outside so Reed wasn’t surprised that Jones had rolled his overalls down.
The office itself was windowless, fashioned from sheets of plasterboard to gain some privacy from the main workshop. There were sheets of paper pinned to every available space, a rail of key hooks, some occupied, some not. They sat on the only two chairs available.
“Like I said, there’s nothing to worry about, just a few questions. Did you know Carmella well?”
“Not really. We had a couple of mutual friends, spoke now and again.”
“Was Lee Gulliver a mutual friend?”
Jones lowered his head, just for a moment. He scratched at his ankle before returning eye contact. Reed took this to be a sign that maybe they weren’t friends, or at the very least, Jones needed to get the following words correct.
“Not
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