The station was locked; someone had already come and gone, their identity unknown. Sparrow said it was likely Kerr and not Fyfe because ‘it looks like some work’s been done’.

‘Honestly, how do you put up with him as your boss?’ asked Manolis.

Sparrow shrugged. ‘Yair, we know the bastard checked out a while ago. Can’t blame him, really – I mean, look at this town, only gotten worse since the brown house opened. Don’t be so hard on him, he was once a great cop, feared by crims and respected by the community. He’s just got one eye on the finish line now. And he’ll be right, he’s onna cop pension. Me and Kate are just waitin’ for his liver to pack it in.’

‘So who takes over?’ Manolis asked.

Another shrug. ‘Dunno. Might have to flip a coin. Loser becomes sergeant.’

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

THEY STORED THE items in the evidence locker. As Manolis had anticipated, the seized gaffer tape was identical to the roll found at the scene. But as Sparrow had pointed out, the same brand of tape was available at the local supermarket, and otherwise ‘all over town’.

Manolis decided against leaving the phone in an evidence room of questionable security – the device’s contents were far too valuable. He kept it, along with Molly’s identification, safely inside his shirt pocket. He’d already placed a call to the phone company to chase up its records.

While Sparrow sat outside and smoked, Manolis made the most of the opportunity to pore over all the evidence with fresh eyes. He scrutinised the items under the annoying flicker of the fluorescent tube. The tape, the Bowie knife, the rocks, the shopping trolley with its jammed coin all still appeared as generic as they had the first time. Inroads had been made with evidence found at the victim’s home and in a suspect’s possession, but Manolis ideally wanted something at the crime scene to better link the investigation directly with the murderer. Because the scene had not been secured, the items recovered from the area behind the oval were his best bet. And it was the rocks that intrigued him most of all.

He acknowledged that they were a random selection, literally the garden variety. But he doubted the ability of any killer to have simply collected them at the scene without some prior scavenging and storage. He wondered whether a witness might step forward who had seen someone gathering rocks. At the time, such behaviour would not have aroused suspicion, but it would be of great relevance now. Surely there had been some preparation involved. Or had there? Manolis doubted himself. How hard would it be to gather rocks?