James Carol - The Quiet Man

‘Okay, so what have we learned?’ She mulled the question over for a second. ‘We know that he’s single. And judging by this place, that’s his default setting.’

‘And what else?’

She shook her head and shrugged. ‘Other than the fact that he prefers chinos to jeans, not much.’

‘So, where’s Gifford?’

‘Gifford could be anywhere,’ Anderton replied.

Winter shook his head. ‘I’m not talking about where he is in space and time. We’ll get to that one in a minute. I’m talking about where he is in this house. Someone’s personality gets stamped on to the place they live. Even if they only use it as a flophouse you’d expect to see something more than what we’re seeing here. So where is he?’

‘There was evidence of him in the room he was using as an office.’

‘But not much. That was nothing more than a glorified storeroom.’

‘What about the computer?’ Anderton asked. ‘There’s got to be something on there. We know that he stalks his victims online, and that he’s been watching the husbands. Maybe he’s one of those loners who spends all his time online.’

‘There’s probably going to be something on there, but not the good stuff.’

Anderton frowned. ‘How do you work that out?’

‘Because he left in a hurry, and he has no intention of coming back,’ Winter said. ‘If there had been anything important on the computer he would have taken it with him. Did you see the size of the screen? And it was a high-resolution model, too. That computer was primarily for work.’

‘So he has another computer for stalking his victims and watching the husbands. And that will probably be a laptop, because everyone has laptops these days. Which is portable. All he had to do was grab it on his way out the door.’ Anderton frowned. ‘And how can you be so sure that he’s not coming back?’

‘You’re kidding, right? Did you see the state of his bed?’

‘I saw that it hadn’t been made,’ Anderton replied ‘I wouldn’t say that it was in a state, though. My bed looks the same most of the time.’

‘No, it doesn’t. I’ve seen your car, and your apartment. Your bed gets made every morning without fail. The sheet gets pulled tight, the quilt gets straightened, the pillows plumped. I’d hazard that Gifford does the same.’

‘Okay, but my point still stands. Just because his bed is a little messy, it doesn’t mean that he’s not coming back. You can’t make that leap.’

‘I can, and for that exact reason. Did you see how neatly the packets of ham were lined up in the refrigerator? The noodle pots were the same. Chicken and mushroom on the left, beef and tomato in the middle, curry on the right. Then there’s the fact that he left in a hurry.’

Anderton fired off a sceptical look. ‘And what are you basing that on?’

‘I’m basing it on the fact that he didn’t take any underwear with him. Your other clothes can be worn for a few days without too much of a problem, but not underwear. That starts to get a bit grim. There were five pairs of boxer shorts, five pairs of socks, five shirts and five pairs of tan chinos. There was also one of each item in the laundry basket. Presumably he’s wearing some now, which implies that he’s on a weekly wash cycle. Something got Gifford spooked and he left in a hurry.’

‘Eric Kirchner’s laptop?’

‘That’s my guess. It was switched on when I arrived at his apartment. Maybe Gifford had tuned in to watch The Eric Kirchner Show and saw me instead. He’d know who I was from the interview with Delaney. If he thought we were closing in, that would be enough to make him run.’

‘Which leads us to the question of where he is in time and space. Any ideas?’

Winter shrugged and shook his head. ‘Okay, let’s try a slightly different approach. If you were still in charge of the investigation, what would your next move be?’

‘I’d run Gifford’s name and see if he had a connection to any other properties. I’d also be checking hotels and guesthouses.’

‘All of which is labour-intensive.’

‘So we need to call Freeman. He’s got the manpower to chase down any paper trails. We don’t.’

‘You’re right. But I’d hold off on calling him for a moment.’

‘Why?’

‘Because we’re here now. We should dig deeper. It’s about playing to our respective strengths. Freeman’s strength is manpower. Ours is the experience we’ve got investigating crime scenes. As soon as you call Freeman he’s going to tell you to get the hell out. How can we investigate the crime scene if we’re standing out on the sidewalk?’

‘Okay, I’ll hold off on calling him.’

‘You know, I don’t think this house was always so bare. There are marks on the walls made by picture hooks. Lots of them. Someone filled in the holes and painted over them, and I’m betting that someone was Gifford. Also, don’t you think that the house is a little big for one person living on their own?’

‘So, what? You think he might have lived here with someone?’ She mulled this over, then nodded to herself. ‘I guess it’s possible that he had a wife or a girlfriend. The old woman we passed who was working in her garden would be able to confirm that.’

Winter nodded. ‘She’ll know, for sure.’

‘So we should go talk to her.’

‘Not quite yet.’

Before Anderton could say anything else Winter walked out of the bathroom and headed downstairs. She stopped him as he was coming out of Gifford’s office carrying the small stepladder.

‘Should I ask?’

‘We can walk and talk,’ he said.

She stood aside to let him through and they went back toward the stairs.

‘Hypothetically speaking, let’s say Gifford was in a relationship, and the relationship went south. His wife-slash-girlfriend moves out, taking her stuff with her. Except she doesn’t take everything because you never do. There’s always going to be something left behind. So what does Gifford do with that stuff? He can dump it in the trash or donate it to Goodwill, which doesn’t really help us because it means it’s lost forever. Option number two, he can put it in the garage, but that doesn’t work here because there is no garage.’

‘Or he could store it in the attic,’ Anderton said.

‘Bingo.’

The attic hatch was halfway along the second-floor landing. Winter stopped beneath it and unfolded the ladder. It was made from aluminium and four feet high. Plenty big enough for shooting pictures over a crowd. He climbed up to the second step from the top and pushed against the hatch. It was hinged on one edge and opened like a trap door. Anderton grabbed the ladder to steady it and he moved up to the top step, still pushing. The hatch passed the vertical point, then gravity took over and it clattered all the way open. A retractable ladder was attached to one side. Winter gave it a tug and it tipped up on its hinge and started to telescope open. He climbed back down to the ground, pulling the ladder with him. It opened with a rattle and a clank.

He found his brass Zippo in the front pocket of his jeans. It was battered, scratched and ancient, but still worked as well as the day it was made. He climbed the ladder into the darkness and sparked the lighter to life. The breath caught in his lungs and he let out a low whistle.

‘Is everything okay?’ Anderton called out from below.

‘I think we’ve just found Gifford,’ Winter called back. He looked down from the hatch and locked eyes. ‘And I’m not talking about where he’s disappeared to. This is where he exists in this house. Come on up. You’ve got to see this.’

There was a light switch near the hatch entrance. Winter hit it and the darkness disappeared. He clicked the Zippo closed and shoved it back into his pocket. Someone had spent time and money converting the attic into a useable space. Sheetrock had been screwed into the rafters to create two new walls. Chipboard had been screwed into the ceiling joists to create a floor. Two striplights had been fixed to the apex of the roof to create light. The floor space matched the footprint of the house, making this the largest room in it.