‘When I saw the guy, he had gloves on, but maybe he took them off at some time before I got here. I’m hoping for some prints around the lower pane,’ he explained. ‘Especially on the outside of the window, right here, where the lens was located.’ He pointed to the exact area to be precise. ‘Check all the pill bottles as well. I’ve already handled the one by the chair – gloves on – and Felicia touched the ones on the counter. Gloves, too. When you’re done with this, I need the entire fridge in unit 305 dusted. Prick was hiding in there.’

‘In the suite?’

‘In the fridge.’

Noodles raised an eyebrow in surprise, then promised to have it done before going home tonight. For a brief moment, he focused on the body of Mandy Gill and his round, old face took on an expressionless look. After a moment, he shook his head and spoke.

‘She was young.’

‘She was a good kid,’ Striker said. ‘It’s not right.’

The words felt heavy and the mood darkening, so Striker gave Felicia a nod to leave and they said goodbye to Noodles. Now that Ident had arrived and the scene was secure, he wanted to get out of there ASAP. For many reasons. Noodles worked faster when alone; the glove had to be properly bagged and tagged for DNA; and, without a doubt, Car 10, the Road Boss, would be pulling up on scene any minute. Striker wanted to be clear of this place – clear of this entire area – when the man arrived.

He and Laroche didn’t exactly see eye to eye.

Nine

Striker settled into the driver’s seat, and Felicia into the passenger’s. He’d barely driven a half-block down Union Street before he hit the brakes, stopped hard, and stared out of the window at the building on the other side of the vacant lot.

It was an old house, a three-storey, directly west of the Lucky Lodge. Out front was a billboard notice from the City, explaining that construction would soon be underway. The place was going to be rebuilt into a quadplex.

Typical for the area. More money that way.

Most of the windows were boarded up, and on the ground beneath some of the planks Striker could see piles of broken glass. A big red Realty Inc. sign hung off a post out front, swaying in the growing night-time wind. Striker stared at it for a long moment.

‘What?’ Felicia asked. ‘You got something?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he said and got out of the car.

Immediately, harsh winds blew his hair about and he buttoned up his trench coat. He slammed the driver’s side door, rounded the car and started into the vacant lot that separated the two buildings.

Felicia got out too and followed him.

When Striker reached the centre of the vacant lot, he stopped. He looked across the way – at Mandy Gill’s window, then at the empty three-storey behind him. At the very top was an attic. Its windows were covered with broken shutters. Everything inside appeared dark and still.

He pointed at it.

‘The attic. It’s directly across the way from Mandy’s room. And it’s one floor up – a perfect spot for a vantage point.’

Felicia came up beside him for a better look, so close he could smell the vanilla scent of her perfume. The wind whipped her long hair across her face and she used her hand to hold it down.

‘The attic looks right into her window,’ she agreed. ‘Wanna check it out?’

Striker nodded. He crossed the vacant lot, weaving around the construction debris and potholes, until he stepped on to the next yard. Directly in front of him was the house. East side, ground floor.

He took out his flashlight and shone it on the building. The walls were made of wood and stucco that was broken off and chipped in large patches. Old rickety planks covered up most of the windows, and the one in front of Striker was no different. He gloved up with a pair of leather Windstoppers – they were thick enough to stop the glass from slicing him – and yanked hard on the lowest plank. It creaked and groaned, but remained firmly in place.

‘The wood is strong,’ Felicia remarked.

‘Long nails.’

Striker left the boards in place and made his way around the house with Felicia following. By the time they’d seen all four sides – and that included a heavily planked front door, complete with iron bars – he was satisfied the place was secure.

Felicia shivered from the cold. ‘We done our tour here?’

‘You can wait in the car, if you want.’

‘Wow. Touchy, touchy.’ She looked up at the top two floors. ‘All the other windows are too high. Someone would have needed a ladder to get up there.’

Striker didn’t disagree. The other windows were definitely out of reach. To complicate matters, the house was built on a slope. The next floor was over ten feet above the outside ground. The attic was another two floors above – far too high for someone to reach – but something about the attic called out to him. Then he figured out what was bothering him.

‘The boards have been removed from the attic window . . . and that doesn’t make sense. No Break and Enter toad is gonna climb all the way up there to force his way inside, not when he can just crowbar one of these bottom windows open. The only reason for breaking off those attic boards is if he did it from the inside – to get a better view.’

Felicia saw his point. ‘Of the Lucky Lodge.’

Striker turned his concentration to the ground-floor windows in front of him. After a more careful look, he noticed something odd with one of them. Compared to the other windows around the house – all of which were also boarded up – the planks on this one were different. They were stronger wood. Cleaner. Newer. And when he shone his flashlight on the boards, the shiny silver of new nail heads gleamed back.

He pointed this out to Felicia. ‘The other boards on the other windows are old, but this one’s been boarded up recently. And look at the angle of these two – they’ve been driven in poorly. By the looks of it, the guy was left-handed.’

Felicia looked at the nails and agreed. Then she squatted down low and shone her flashlight through the frozen blades of grass. ‘Look here. There’s small bits of glass. Just tiny stuff. Cubes, really. But it’s there. It’s almost like someone broke the window, then boarded it back up and cleaned the mess.’

Striker called up Dispatch, gave her the address, and asked if there were any recent break-ins reported to the house. When the answer came back no, he hung up and fixed Felicia with a stare. ‘When’s the last time you ever heard of a B and E guy repairing a place before he left?’

‘Never.’

‘Exactly.’

He reached out again with both his hands, grabbed hold of the upper plank, and reefed back on it with all his might. The connection was strong, and it took several attempts before the nails loosened, but in the end the planks gave way and tore out of the frame. Striker threw the planks into the construction site, and looked in through the window.

Behind him, Felicia made an uncomfortable sound. ‘We don’t have permission here, you know.’

He turned around. ‘What?’

‘Technically, we’re breaking and entering this place. Maybe we should get hold of the property rep.’

Striker let out a small laugh, one that pissed off Felicia – he could see it in her eyes. ‘I’m not waiting around here for three hours so some idiot can let us in the front door – and that’s if he even comes down here, and if he consents to us searching the place. Right now we’re going in under exigent circumstances.’

Felicia raised an eyebrow. ‘Exigent circumstances?’

‘I’ll work it out later.’

Before she could argue the point further, Striker used the last remaining broken plank to rake away the small teeth of sharp glass from the window frame. Then he shone his flashlight through the window.