PEEL-BEHIND THEIR EYES. Book 1 (Complete)

Chapter 18. Paperchase

The large depressing concrete structure bore down on the surrounding red brick terraced housing of central Grimsby like a tidal wave over many grains of sand uniformly lined up. Built in the 1960s, the Evening Post building was supposed to be a design for the future, a design that would stand the test of time. The test of time had come full term, the Declining paper had begun to wind down its operation, the paper would print its last issue in a little over 4 months, and the building was scheduled for demolition a further 4 months after that. In the meantime, staffing levels had been reduced to the bare minimum to save money and so had security. Everyone at the Evening Post now had multiple jobs titles from the highest to the lowest.

The lowest being Donald Dubeck, Don to his friends, the few he had, was a gaunt mousey haired snivel of a man. Having spent much of his fifty odd years claiming benefits on the dole, he had done his best to remain job free but now found himself sweeping the concrete yard free of non-existent rubbish whilst skilfully rolling a Golden Virginia with nicotine stained thumb and forefinger. With a deft flick of his tongue he sealed the roll and began yet another fag break, his fourth such break since starting work an hour earlier. Leaning the broom handle against the chain link fence, Don like Dracula, spun the flap of his coat over his face and in its protection lit his ciggy. Taking in a lungs worth of smoke he flicked away the hanging ash and with a kick of his foot the brush handle bounced off the fence and back into his waiting hands.

Don would push the broom around the yard until his ciggy was dead and then he would set off to make his rounds emptying waste paper baskets and recycle boxes scattered throughout the deserted office's until it was time to 'sweep the yard' for his next ciggy break.

Don didn't so much dislike his job as dislike work in general, but the government had other ideas, telling him it was voluntary work for his dole money or nothing at all, all he wanted was another ciggy. So he was a janitor, an odd-jobber, even on occasion a security guard whenever Harry didn't turn in for work.

"The work shy good for nothing, just like me" Don chuckled as he tossed the dead end to the floor and began rolling another Golden Virginia.

Hearing the roller shutters to the warehouse entrance begin to clatter upwards Don quickly pocketed his tobacco tin and began furiously sweeping the already swept yard. Whenever he needed to he could look busy. The roller shutters clanged to a halt and out emerged Martin Lews, Don's supervisor and two suited and booted serious looking men.

Don groaned and walked towards them with his hands up "hey, I'm doing what you told me, I turn up for work and sign on, and on time, what more you need me to do" he said defensively.

With a look of annoyance Martin shook his head "they're not Social Benefits Donald, they're coppers, they want to ask you a couple of questions about that broken window last week"

Dons mood shifted from panic to self-importance in the blink of an eye "Oh, how can I be assistance to you two fine looking officers of the law, I'm at your command"

Polmis sighed inwardly, he'd dealt with this type before, so self-assured so helpful, it would take an age to get anything useful out of him. Polmis stuck out a hand and said "I'm Detective Polmis and my colleague here is Officer Jameson. We're interested in the break-in last week, seems nobody in the front office knows much about it, except you so they say?"

Don nodded enthusiastically with every word Polmis spoke "yes, yes, I'm your man alright. Well to be honest nothing much to say really, the pen pushers upstairs said that before I can phone police they wanted me to fill out forms. Once when I was giving the main lobby windows a once over, you know until the window clean came, he comes on a Saturday you know, well there I was minding my own business mopping away. I like to tie a rag to the end of my mop and use it to reach the high corners, those windows are big, real big, anyway there I was mopping the window when a suited gentleman, not unlike you Mr. Polmis, he starts spouting all sorts of things to do with health and safety, about whether I had passed levels one and two of something or other. Well, I said no, that I didn't need no certificate to clean a window, well that was a red rag to a bull you know, before you know it he had several forms for me to fill in, in triplicate? Guess what I did, hmm, bet you can't, I'll tell you anyway, I told him where he could stick his forms and the dirty windows too. I left him speechless and I went back to my broom here and lit a ciggy. So, to cut a long story short as they say, no I didn't report it as nothing was stolen or damaged except for a small window, it was probably druggies anyway" Don paused to roll another ciggy.

Polmis frowned as Jameson gasped in astonishment at Don's breathless monolog, and thought "he talked so much but said so little so fast, I not sure if I'm impressed or annoyed. I thought I could talk" Polmis frown deepened.

Polmis really didn't want to ask but knew he had too.

"OK Mr. Dubeck, show us the window and tell us what happened"

Don walked towards the side of the building dragging his brush behind, calling out as he went "come on then, this way. This is the window, it's boarded up now" he pointed to a sheet of wood that had been hastily nailed partially across the broken window "I chucked the glass and cleaned up the blood, I had to mop up all the way to the Archive room. I've haven't a clue why they would want to go in there, it's just full of old newspapers. I don't know what it is you expect to find"

Polmis immediately grabbed Don's shoulder stopping him in his slow tracks "blood! You're saying that there's blood"

Don shrugged off the hand "was blood" he said "I cleaned it up and recycled the glass, oh I suppose there could be a bit still left on the shards on the window frame, but I mopped up the trail"

Polmis spun excitedly to Jameson and began reeling off instructions "Radio for forensics, tell them to get down here immediately, speak with whosoever in charge here and get this area cordoned off and get CCTV for the night of the break-in. But first, phone the Boss. Go!"

As Jameson turned away with radio in hand Polmis spoke hurriedly to Don "take me to the Archive room full of old newspaper and show me exactly where this trail of blood ended"

Don discarded his brush and asked "what so important it's only a window"

Polmis almost shoved Don into the warehouse and as they hurried along "it's possible that whoever committed this crime also committed others and is about to commit more. It's also likely that someone's life is in the balance and the longer it takes us to find the perpetrator the more likely someone will get hurt, so hurry up"

Don pointed down a long blandly decorated corridor and scuttled off. Reaching the fire door at its end he pushed through and turned right, several doors along Don tapped on a plain beige door "here we are"

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