Page 36 of The Chapel of Bones

‘That’ll be twenty pounds.’

‘I don’t think you understand, love. We’re here to see the boss. Dale, I think his name is.’

The girl hesitated before picking up the grubby phone on the desk. After a short conversation, she told them to go through and Dale would meet them.

As they passed through the gates, the smell of animal dung hit them. In other zoos you might catch the occasional whiff, but here the smell was overpowering. Wesley looked at Gerry and put his hand to his nose.

A man appeared out of a wooden building to their right. He was tall, once muscular but gone to seed, probably going on fifty, with a beer belly and greasy dark hair. The buttons on his checked shirt strained over his abdomen and his jeans were stained with a substance that looked like oil but might have been something more unpleasant.

‘Dale Gadson?’ Gerry said, wondering whether the man might be some sort of underling engaged to muck out the cages.

‘That’s me. What can I do for you gentlemen?’ he asked warily. He was well-spoken, and Wesley couldn’t helpwondering about his background. And how he’d ended up running a failing zoo.

‘Can we have a word?’

Dale hesitated for a moment. ‘Of course. Come into my office.’

He led them inside the wooden building and into an office as cluttered as Gerry’s own. But even Gerry wouldn’t have tolerated the array of dirty crockery stacked up in the sink at the end of the room, as though nobody had tackled any washing-up for a good while. Dale sat down at his desk, but there was nowhere for the visitors, so they remained standing.

Not wanting to waste time, Wesley began the questioning. ‘Jim Baker is a neighbour of yours. I understand you know him?’

‘Yeah. I know Jim.’

‘When did you last see him?’

Dale looked uncertain. ‘It was just before the weekend. I went round to his place for a drink.’ He stood up and walked over to a cupboard in the corner. When he opened the door, Wesley could see bottles of spirits in there along with some cloudy glasses. ‘Talking of drink, can I tempt you? I usually have one around this time.’

‘No thanks.’

Dale filled a glass and tapped the side of his reddening nose. ‘Not while you’re on duty. That’s what they always say, isn’t it.’ He chuckled at his own joke and returned to his seat, glass in hand.

‘When exactly did you visit Jim Baker?’ Wesley persisted.

Dale shrugged his large shoulders. ‘Must have been Friday evening.’

‘What time?’ asked Gerry.

‘I’d had a few by then, so I wasn’t keeping track of the time. What’s all this about? What’s Jim done?’

‘We don’t know that he’s done anything yet. We’re investigating the murder of a woman in the village of Belsham, between Morbay and Neston. She died on Friday evening.’

Dale swore under his breath. ‘And you think Jim had something to do with it?’

‘The woman used to be a neighbour of his. We’ve been told they argued.’

‘Makes sense. Jim’s never got on with his neighbours. Mind you, I can’t see him being easy to live next door to. I live in the house behind the zoo. The music doesn’t bother me there.’

‘He said he plays his music loud because your animals like to hear it.’

‘Is that what he said?’ Dale chuckled. ‘He’s a character, is Jim.’

‘Ever heard the name Timothy Fontescue-Burns? Or a place called Sycamore House? It used to be a sort of commune. You might know it as Casa Mirabilis.’

Dale shook his head. ‘The miraculous house. Sounds nice, but I don’t know anything about it.’

Wesley glanced at Gerry. He could tell that the DCI wasn’t altogether convinced by the man’s reply either. ‘How many animals do you keep here?’

Dale took another sip from his glass. ‘Now you’re asking. There’s five chimps, a few lemurs and a couple of camels. Nasty, bad-tempered things. Sadly our last elephant died last year. She was a good age, though.’