gloves?’ I asked.
Holker flicked back the bottom of his jacket, hooked a thumb on his belt. It served the dual purpose of displaying his detective’s shield, and the Glock holstered on his hip. I smiled at him.
‘What’s this?’ I asked. ‘You show me yours, I show you mine?’
‘Jesus,’ said Bryony. ‘Once you two are finished comparing the length of your dicks can we get back to what’s really important?’
‘Fine by me,’ I said. Holker only exhaled through his flaring nostrils.
I’d told Bryony about finding the glove when first I contacted her that morning, and I’d also forwarded her the photos of it when it was still hanging on the broken branch. Nevertheless I still led them around the house and across the lawn towards the copse of tress. As we walked I mentioned the thrill-seeking kids at the front gate and how I first thought the prowler could have arrived with them, but had changed my mind when spotting his attire. ‘He was older, too,’ I added.
‘You could tell that in the dark?’ Holker said, unconvinced.
‘Yes. When he was climbing the wall, the moonlight was on him. It was how I spotted he’d lost a glove.’
‘But you didn’t see his face?’ Holker asked.
‘Didn’t need to. I could tell from his movements he wasn’t a teenager. He wasn’t the most agile. Kind of struggled to pull himself over that wall.’ The perimeter wall was about six-feet tall, hardly an insurmountable barrier. ‘His hair was brown, maybe light brown seeing as I could tell colour, and looked as if it needed a cut. White guy,’ I added, before either detective could prompt me. ‘I got a look at part of his face and an ear, his hand too.’
‘But you couldn’t pick him out of a line up?’ Bryony wondered.
‘Maybe if you had him dressed the same and climbing over that wall I’d identify him, but that wouldn’t stand in court.’ My words were a barb aimed at Holker, but I was also confident that if the circumstances were repeated then I could positively ID the prowler. I held a hand level with my eyebrows. ‘He was about five feet nine tall, I’d say, slim build.’
The problem was that the description could fit countless thousands of guys, probably dozens in the local vicinity. It didn’t help much. The glove wasn’t latex that’d hold a fingerprint inside, but there was always the possibility that there were viable prints on the cheap leather exterior. If they were interested in discovering the prowler’s identity then they could run the glove for forensics, but my guess was they had more important things on their minds.
‘Where was Clayton when all of this was happening?’ Holker asked.
‘Inside the house. When I chased off those kids and came back down the drive I saw him in the living room. After I saw off the prowler he came out and met me on the lawn back there. He said he heard me shouting and came out to investigate.’
‘What was his demeanour?’ Bryony asked.
‘Angry.’ I didn’t elucidate. ‘But that’s understandable.’
‘Anything?’ Bryony asked hopefully. She meant had he incriminated himself in any way.
‘Not yet,’ I said.
‘What happened then?’ Holker asked.
‘We went to the kitchen, and I bagged the glove, kept it safe. Clayton checked on Cole and then went to his own room. I made another patrol and was satisfied all was quiet so went back inside and locked up. Called you guys at first light.’
‘Didn’t you sleep?’ Bryony asked. I wasn’t showing signs of fatigue.
‘No. Stayed awake all night. Rink’s coming over to spell me in an hour or so,’ I said with a cursory glance at my watch. ‘I’ll sleep then.’
‘Is Clayton home now?’ Holker wondered and turned to look back at the house.
‘No.’
‘You allowed him to leave?’
‘He isn’t under house arrest,’ I reminded him. ‘And I’m not here to hold his hand. It’s the boy I’m here to protect, and he’s safely at school.’
‘That’s not the only thing,’
Holker flicked back the bottom of his jacket, hooked a thumb on his belt. It served the dual purpose of displaying his detective’s shield, and the Glock holstered on his hip. I smiled at him.
‘What’s this?’ I asked. ‘You show me yours, I show you mine?’
‘Jesus,’ said Bryony. ‘Once you two are finished comparing the length of your dicks can we get back to what’s really important?’
‘Fine by me,’ I said. Holker only exhaled through his flaring nostrils.
I’d told Bryony about finding the glove when first I contacted her that morning, and I’d also forwarded her the photos of it when it was still hanging on the broken branch. Nevertheless I still led them around the house and across the lawn towards the copse of tress. As we walked I mentioned the thrill-seeking kids at the front gate and how I first thought the prowler could have arrived with them, but had changed my mind when spotting his attire. ‘He was older, too,’ I added.
‘You could tell that in the dark?’ Holker said, unconvinced.
‘Yes. When he was climbing the wall, the moonlight was on him. It was how I spotted he’d lost a glove.’
‘But you didn’t see his face?’ Holker asked.
‘Didn’t need to. I could tell from his movements he wasn’t a teenager. He wasn’t the most agile. Kind of struggled to pull himself over that wall.’ The perimeter wall was about six-feet tall, hardly an insurmountable barrier. ‘His hair was brown, maybe light brown seeing as I could tell colour, and looked as if it needed a cut. White guy,’ I added, before either detective could prompt me. ‘I got a look at part of his face and an ear, his hand too.’
‘But you couldn’t pick him out of a line up?’ Bryony wondered.
‘Maybe if you had him dressed the same and climbing over that wall I’d identify him, but that wouldn’t stand in court.’ My words were a barb aimed at Holker, but I was also confident that if the circumstances were repeated then I could positively ID the prowler. I held a hand level with my eyebrows. ‘He was about five feet nine tall, I’d say, slim build.’
The problem was that the description could fit countless thousands of guys, probably dozens in the local vicinity. It didn’t help much. The glove wasn’t latex that’d hold a fingerprint inside, but there was always the possibility that there were viable prints on the cheap leather exterior. If they were interested in discovering the prowler’s identity then they could run the glove for forensics, but my guess was they had more important things on their minds.
‘Where was Clayton when all of this was happening?’ Holker asked.
‘Inside the house. When I chased off those kids and came back down the drive I saw him in the living room. After I saw off the prowler he came out and met me on the lawn back there. He said he heard me shouting and came out to investigate.’
‘What was his demeanour?’ Bryony asked.
‘Angry.’ I didn’t elucidate. ‘But that’s understandable.’
‘Anything?’ Bryony asked hopefully. She meant had he incriminated himself in any way.
‘Not yet,’ I said.
‘What happened then?’ Holker asked.
‘We went to the kitchen, and I bagged the glove, kept it safe. Clayton checked on Cole and then went to his own room. I made another patrol and was satisfied all was quiet so went back inside and locked up. Called you guys at first light.’
‘Didn’t you sleep?’ Bryony asked. I wasn’t showing signs of fatigue.
‘No. Stayed awake all night. Rink’s coming over to spell me in an hour or so,’ I said with a cursory glance at my watch. ‘I’ll sleep then.’
‘Is Clayton home now?’ Holker wondered and turned to look back at the house.
‘No.’
‘You allowed him to leave?’
‘He isn’t under house arrest,’ I reminded him. ‘And I’m not here to hold his hand. It’s the boy I’m here to protect, and he’s safely at school.’
‘That’s not the only thing,’
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