Dreams of Origami by Elenor Gill Page B

The street is silent and deserted, as it usually is at this time of day. She imagines seeing the place swarming with police, but that doesn’t happen, not in reality. One private car, not usually seen along here, is parked on the opposite side. It may or may not have something to do with the Caxtons. Drew reaches in and stacks the paper.
    ‘If Matthew simply walked out on her,’ she whispers over his shoulder, ‘with all the publicity you’d think he’d have got in touch with someone by now.’
    ‘Not necessarily,’ he replies from the depths of the van. ‘It depends why he left. If he left at all. Perhaps his wife bumped him off.’
    ‘Oh, Drew, that’s not funny.’ She looks horrified, which only encourages him.
    ‘The Fens have a strange and mysterious history, you know. It’s the isolation. It gets to people after a while. It’s not surprising if people go mad out here.’ He gives a manic laugh as he jumps out, his hands reaching for her throat.
    She thumps him hard on the shoulder. ‘Actually, that’s not such a bad idea. Looking at the area and its history, I mean. I could write an article on it. Do some local research, see what else has happened out here.’
    ‘Why don’t you talk to Audrey Stanton? You know, the woman in the end cottage. She knows the area, has lived here for years. I think she used to work for the museum as an archivist or something.’
    ‘Did she? That might be useful. Only, I’m not sure she’d go for it. At the moment she’s acting as guard dog over at the schoolhouse. I’ve already had one run-in with her. I don’t think she approves of the press.’
    ‘That’s understandable. I get on with her all right. Must be my natural charm.’
    Lacey thumps him again. ‘Well, you talk to her then.’
    ‘Why me?’
    ‘Oh, go on, please. See if you can fix something up for me. After all, you’re the one with all that natural charm.’
    He looms over her, hands like claws, his face contorted in a wicked leer. This time he does get her by the throat. Lacey squeals and digs him in the ribs, and they both fall against the side of the van, laughing.
    ‘Good morning. Hope we’re not interrupting anything important.’
    Lacey squeals again, but this time from surprise. ‘Inspector Fletcher, what are you doing here?’ She and Drew look like a couple of kids caught messing about in the school corridor.
    ‘Much the same as you, I expect. The missing-person case. Only I’m here as part of an official police investigation.’ Fletcher pulls himself up to his full height, pushing his shoulders back. ‘Mr Andrew Burrows?’ He flashes his identity card. ‘We’re interviewing people in connection with the apparent disappearance of one of your neighbours: Mr Caxton.’
    ‘Ah, Matthew. Yes, of course.’ Drew straightens himself up.
    ‘This is Detective Sergeant West.’ Fletcher indicates the other man, who is standing one pace behind him. West nods in greeting, but does not speak. You can tell who’s in charge, thinks Lacey. Fletcher’s the one in a suit and tie, whereas West’s wearing jeans and a bomber jacket and looks more like a normal human being. ‘We need to speak to anyone who lives in this area and may have seen him on the day of his disappearance. Someone did call on you several times yesterday,’ Fletcher continues, ‘but apparently you were out.’
    ‘Yes, sorry about that,’ says Drew.
    Why are you apologizing? thinks Lacey. Though Fletcher did make it sound like an accusation.
    ‘Yes, well I’m not sure I can tell you anything, but I do live here. Miss Prentice is just visiting, she’s a friend.’
    ‘So I gather. What about the end cottage over there, next door to the schoolhouse? We haven’t been able to speak to the occupier yet.’
    ‘That’s old Mr Abercrombie. He’s usually there,’ says Drew, ‘but he’s stone deaf, so you have to go around the back and bang on the door really hard to get his attention.’
    ‘And the house next door to this