“Were there any witnesses?”

The landlord shook his head.

“Please,” Theo said, “give me a list of the flats that were burgled. I want to interview the owner.”

“They didn’t want to cause trouble.”

“Well, I think there’s trouble now. Perhaps if the police had gotten involved sooner, this wouldn’t have happened,” Theo said angrily.

The landlord nodded and motioned Dorland to follow him. “I have the information in my flat.”

Theo returned to the victim’s flat and again started looking through the rooms. How did the home invasion escalate so fast? Was the home invasion only to hide the murder? Theo shook his head. He was lucky to notice items were missing. In fact, the items may not be stolen at all. Sharon may have thrown them away. As he went through the other rooms, he was less convinced that he was correct. Jewelry was left on the dresser. Some of it looked expensive. Why would they take a couple of things from the front room and leave this? It didn’t make any sense. Not unless the items stolen belonged to the killer. To be sure, he would have to find the culprits.

Dorland returned with the list. “There were five so far, gov.”

“Send some officers to talk to them and find out what happened. I want to know what was stolen. When they think the robberies occurred. Who they think is involved. Do they suspect they came from these flats or from elsewhere? Any information is helpful.”

Dorland left again to give orders.

By the bedside table, Theo picked up a photo of the deceased and a man who wasn’t in any of the other pictures, and in the one Theo held, he was very cozy with her.

“Who do you think that is?” Dorland asked from behind him, almost laying his head on his shoulder. “Lover. Ex-lover?”

“Judging from the fact that it was beside her bed, I would assume they’re still together.”

“The woman had no wedding ring, and she lived with no one. So that could mean that our victim is either dating this man, or has broken it off and is still in love with him.”

“We need to locate him. He may know why she was murdered. He may have done it. Maybe he worked with her.” Theo started going through all the drawers and cupboards while Dorland went through her drawer of knickers.

“I think,” Dorland remarked, holding up knickers with less material than a Barbie bikini, “she was in a relationship.” He moved the knickers over in the drawer and lifted out a small dark blue velvet box, opening the box to reveal a small locket, “To S.Y. My Love From W.P. This seems to be from our mystery gentleman. Now we need to find out who W.P. is.”

Theo held up a date book to Dorland, “I think I have a clue, a name, Walter, last week she has written, Meet Walter at Custom.”

“Custom? What’s that? Airport? Bus? Maybe she had to meet him at the airport customs, he may travel overseas. Work related, do you imagine?”

“Then why would she write custom and not customs? Meet him at custom, why not write meet him at the airport or something? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Spelling error? Heathrow is a large airport, it makes sense that one would need to be more specific.”

“Then why not say this terminal or that, why customs, we don’t meet people at customs, we meet people at certain gates or luggage areas.”

“Then what do you think it means?” He came over and looked over Dorland’s shoulder at the page. “She obviously understood what it meant and so added no further details. Now it’s our job to decode it.”

A complete search of the house revealed nothing more; there was no Walter on either home phone or mobile. No love letters or documents. The computer contained more pictures of the couple but revealed nothing, nothing to help them place the man. Whomever he was, Theo concluded that Sharon was not going to make it easy for them to find out.

Theo watched the coroner take the body away down the hall and watched as SOCO bagged and labelled various items around the room. He decided that it was not profitable to examine the flat until they had finished so he thought he would go down the hall and help the officers talk to the other tenants. The other officers were assigned the first floor, and were to work their way upstairs in order to give SOCO the time to finish up.

Theo went to the door of the woman who found Sharon’s body and knocked. No one answered.

“Where did she go?” Theo asked. “Did someone already take her statement?”

Dorland shrugged.

Writing down the number so he could return, Theo went on to the flat next to Sharon’s. This door was open and revealed a man sitting inside watching his television while the officers tramped by his door.

“Hello there,” Theo yelled in.

The man looked up at Theo as he held up his warrant card, then he waved him in.

“Sit. I was waiting for one of you lot to come in and talk to me. I left my door open but no one came. Figure you have a lot of work to do on a case like that. My name is Frank Mitchell.”

Theo gave his partner a quizzical look. “Oh, I had thought one of the officers would have been round your flat already.”

“No.”

“Well, I’m Detective Chief Inspector Theo Blackwell.” He held out his hand, which the man accepted warmly. “How long have you lived in this flat?”

“A long bloody time,” the man said with an odd accent. “Five years, feels like an eternity. Can’t believe I have lived here that long. Every year I ask myself, ‘Self, are we going to move somewhere better this year?’ but every time my yearly lease expires, I just sign up for another. Glutton for punishment.”

“Where are you from?”

“I was born in the Falklands, but my parents moved to London when I was ten.”

Not knowing much about the land other than the penguins and the war, and not wanting to look like an idiot for not knowing, Theo moved on, “As you may already know, there was a death that occurred down the hall, a young woman named Sharon Yoder. Did you know her?”

“Know is a word I’m not sure applies. I know she lives there, I know her name and what hours she keeps, but do I know her favorite color, food, or television series? No. Do I know who might want her dead or who had a motive to kill her? I don’t know that. Once in a while when she had to leave town, she will get me to watch her fish. She will bring me back a bottle of wine or a silly fridge magnet. But other than that, not much contact.”

He pointed to the fridge where a handful of magnets in the shape of various tropical aquatic creatures hung.

“You took care of her fish?” asked Theo.

“That’s what I said. She brought Carotene here.” He thought for a minute or two. “Just what is going to happen to that fish? They’re not going to flush it are they? Because I’ll take it. It’s quiet and one of the few pets we’re allowed to keep here.”

Theo smiled. “No, we don’t plan to flush it but it’s a good idea that you keep it. I’ll have one of the officers bring it over. If one of the members of her family want it—and that rarely happens with fish—I’ll let you know. Thank you for offering.”

“Well, considering the circumstances, it’s the least I could do. I wish I had information as to who would do this to her.”

“You heard nothing this afternoon?”

“No, and usually I hear everything. Although, mostly from the flat upstairs. You might want to ask the tenant in the flat below. The floors are like sound conduits.”

“We’ll do that,” replied Theo. “Did she have many other visitors?”

“No, not really, I can say she is not one to host parties. She may attend them elsewhere but I don’t ever remember being kept up or being irritated because she had a party.”

“What about visitors?”

“Carpeted hall, really quiet. The one bloody place it’s quiet in the building. Can’t hear much coming or going really. Because her kitchen is against my wall here, I can hear a banged cupboard or if the fridge closed too loudly. Sometimes I can hear the bath water running, a mumble, mumble as she talks on the phone or the toilet flush. I really do hope there is a motive behind her death.”