‘Normally the door’s locked so I don’t need to worry. It’s in a folder under the front desk. I said about the kettle and there’s a plug there. This is a tea stop ’cause someone’s still paying the ’leccy bill. You don’t get that in other places.’

‘So someone could find it easy enough.’

‘My kettle?’

‘Your tick sheet that shows when you come here.’

‘Oh … well, yeah.’

‘What’s the matter?’ said the sergeant, her question aimed at Joel.

‘Maybe nothing.’ Joel stared back at the shadow of blood on the floor. It looked fresh to him, within the last twenty-four hours. ‘Maybe it’s just coincidence that Danny Evans died a day at most before someone checked the building.’

‘Or maybe he knew when that was due,’ the sergeant replied.

‘Somebody might have,’ Joel said. ‘The door has tool marks, you said. Did we find what was used?’

‘Not yet. We haven’t really looked though.’

‘Can you spare two more? That should be enough for the time being. They can do the walkthrough with our security friend here.’ Joel didn’t think for a minute that anyone involved in what had happened here would have stuck around, but it was belt and braces for his first job. Suddenly the idea of more officers here brought comfort.

‘Is it a search? We’ve only got one search trained—’

‘It’s just a sweep to be sure no one else is here and for anything obvious. If we’re going to have CSI working we should make sure they’re alone.’

The sergeant nodded. ‘OK, understood,’ she said then seemed to stiffen. ‘Do you think there might be someone else here?’

‘No. If I thought that I would have firearms do it. It just needs to be done.’

‘The note …’ The young officer in uniform pointed back over at his neatly bagged exhibit. He suddenly looked a little terrified, like he wished he had stayed quiet. Joel stared at him until he spoke again. ‘The note says he killed himself. So are we not thinking that now?’ he asked, seeming to brace himself for the reply.

‘The typed note says suicide but there’s not enough here for that to be conclusive.’

‘What are you thinking?’ the sergeant prompted, looking round again like she had just walked in.

‘I’m thinking I’ve been to a lot of suicides in my time and this is the first one in a disused office. This place doesn’t make sense to me.’

‘It’s the middle of nowhere, no one about, you would have privacy.’ The sergeant shrugged.

‘Which makes it the perfect place to commit murder. If Danny Evans wanted to take his own life and leave a note for his family to find, why do that here? And why choose the room furthest away from the entrance?’