Page 67 of Glasshouses

Wrigley was sitting with Nick, and both looked serious. There’d been no messages with updates this morning, so nothing new had come up.

“You’re early, Mia.” Wrigley didn’t even attempt a smile when he saw me. “I thought I said two pm.”

“I was ready early.” I sat down with them. “I want to go through the paperwork that was found in the shed.”

“It’s all yours. I was going to ask Carly to go through it, but as you’re here.” He drained his coffee cup. “Cade’s doing better than expected. It’s highly likely he’s going to make it through in one piece, although I think he’ll now be grounded until he’s twenty.”

“Any more details off his laptop?”

Wrigley shook his head. “He’s into urban exploring, but visits the same place each time, trying to improve his camera skills. He’s published a few explores but none of Roselea.”

“We think he was the one planting in the glasshouses,” Nick said, looking ridiculously tanned from his holiday. “There are videos of plants being watered and a clip where he seems to think he’s presenting a gardening programme. Bit odd for a kid that age.”

“Not if he’s been brought up by his grandmother.” I leaned back in the chair, still not quite trusting it. “Her garden was well-kept so he’s probably inherited the interest from her.”

“Fair do’s. The theory is he was collateral damage. Someone’s been hanging around Roselea for whatever reason, and was worried he’d seen something.” Nick picked up a sheet of paper from the centre of the table. “The doctors think it’ll be another couple of days before he’ll be talking and it could be longer than that. The smoke inhalation was bad.”

“How’s his gran?”

“Very grateful to the hospital staff and firefighters. She managed to bake last night and brought in more cakes than a baker, so she’s popular. His head of year from school visited this morning too, so he’s got people in his corner.” Nick shifted in his seat. “I could just eat one of those cakes.”

“Think of your figure.” I patted his hand. “I have a name for the leader of The Holding – Andrew Smith. I’ve also got his address.”

“How did you find that?” Wrigley was immediately interested.

“A chatroom online. He lives alone in Wethersett, three-bedroom detached house.” I had a few more details, but I’d hold on to those.

“Nice,” Wrigley said. “What does he do for a living?”

“He’s the director of The Holding, so that may be his income. I couldn’t find any other evidence of him working, but he is sixty-three, so could be retired.”

Wrigley’s eyes lit up at my final word.

“Lucky bastard. I’m missing the fourth day of the test match thanks to this dickhead with a fetish for flames.” He looked in his empty cup disgustedly.

I enjoyed having a long swig of my coffee, Wrigley’s eyes narrowing. “Lily’s got an alibi for the new fire at Roselea. It cannot have been her.”

Wrigley sighed, irritated. “Yep. If the perp stored these papers in the shed, why did he leave them there on Friday night after he set the fire?”

“What if it wasn’t the perp who put them there?” Nick leaned forward. “Cade’s latest video shows that he went upstairs and into the empty room at the top. We know that there were two sets of recent footprints in the house, one a size seven which is the same size as Cade, and another a size ten. What size was Micky Mulligan?”

I flipped open my laptop, waiting while it booted up, and longer again while our systems came to life, currently reminiscent of Frankenstein’s monster without an electrical storm.

“Size ten.” Wrigley found the information first. “Is the paperwork found in the shed from the cleared room in Roselea?”

“Is this it?” I pointed to the pile in the middle of the table.

“All of it.” Wrigley made no effort to look at any of it. “Forensics have lifted some prints and they have a match to prints found in Amanda’s and Micky’s houses, so we can say that Amanda and Micky have more than likely touched some of this paperwork.”

“Any other prints?”

“A couple of unknowns. They’ve not dusted every single sheet, but they have done the folders and a few others.” He stood up, cup in hand. Coffee time.

I leaned over and pulled a handful of papers and folders closer to me. “Time to start looking.”

“What are you looking for, Mia?” Nick said.

“Anything to do with The Holding. If there are any accounts we should check them.” I thought of the school fees. “We know that Amanda and Micky left the bulk of their estates to The Holding; mismanagement of funds could lead to a motive.”