The Various Haunts of Men by Susan Hill Read Free Book Online

bed was strippedbare and the wardrobe contained a few blankets and pillows, plus two empty suitcases. So Angela Randall had not taken off on holiday. The room was bitterly cold. The whole house was cold.
    In the main bedroom, the clothes hanging in the wardrobe were scarcely more personal than everything else – beige coat, brown skirt, navy jumper, black suit, camel suit, floral-print cotton dress, white andlemon, blue and grey cotton shirts. But there were two tracksuits of good quality from a sports shop, and a pair of brand new running shoes, still boxed – expensive.
    So far, DS Graffham’s mental picture of Angela Randall had been blank, like a jigsaw to which she had not been given any pieces. Now, they had found a couple, the first to be fitted in. A single woman in her fifties of average heightand size, who wore neutral colours and clothes that would never draw anyone’s attention to her, had become a serious runner who spent £150 on one pair of shoes. She wondered how the DI would react if she took the fact back as her sole piece of information.
    She was about to close the doors of the wardrobe and go downstairs to meet DC Coates, when something caught her eye, a faint gleam at thevery back of the cupboard. She reached in.
    It was a small box wrapped in gold paper, with a gold ribbon tied on top in an elaborate bow. Attached to that was a small gold envelope. Freya opened it.
    To You, with all possible love from your devoted, Me
.
    Freya weighed the package in her hand. It was not heavy, did not smell or rattle.
    Was Angela Randall the ‘You’ or the ‘Me’?
*
    She went downstairsand let herself out of the front door as the DC was coming up the path.
    ‘Any joy?’
    ‘Not much. Neighbours that were in said she was always pleasant, kept herself to herself, no visitors they could think of … only thing was, the lady on the corner, Mrs Savage, said in the last six months or so, Angela Randall had taken up running.’
    ‘Yes, there are tracksuits in the wardrobe and a pair of brandnew very expensive running shoes … proper gear.’
    ‘She went out of the house every morning at the same time, regardless of whether she had just come in from night duty or just got up.’
    ‘Where did she go?’
    ‘Up on the Hill usually, except when it was very wet, and then she went down the road.’
    ‘And when did Mrs Savage last see her?’
    ‘She is pretty sure on the morning after Mrs Ashton reportedher as last having been to work … Mrs Savage hasn’t seen her, or any sign of anyone at the house, since then. She thought she’d gone away.’
    ‘Did she see her come back from her run that morning?’
    ‘Doesn’t remember, but says she didn’t always … Mrs Savage goes out three mornings a week to catch an early bus to her daughter’s or to go to the Tuesday market … so Randall may have come back withoutbeing noticed.’
    ‘Or not. Anything else?’
    ‘Nope.’
    ‘OK, let’s get back. I’ve got a present to open.’
    An hour later, the golden gift stood on Freya Graffham’s desk, shining like a prop for one of the three kings in a nativity play.
    She had come in and checked the latest reports. Angela Randall’s details were logged on to the missing persons database and her description had been circulated tohospitals.
    One of the things Freya had been looking for at the house had been any relatively recent photograph, which could eventually be put up on the County Police Force’s official website. There had been none and neither was there any news.
    ‘And no body,’ the DI said, stopping by her workstation.
    ‘There will be.’
    ‘You’ve got a feeling?’
    ‘She seems to have had a lonely enough life … ifI lived in a sterile box like that and apparently hadn’t a friend or a loved one in the world, I’d jump in the cut.’
    ‘From which she’d have been dragged days ago.’
    Freya pulled the parcel towards her again.
    To You, with all possible love from your devoted, Me
.
    ‘I’ll