He stepped cautiously into the building. The door opened into a combined lounge and dining room, this not being a big enough house for a hall. It didn’t look like anyone had lounged or eaten there for some time. A dying fly’s intermittent struggles were all that broke the static atmosphere. Even the air itself seemed to be decaying. The man’s eyes scrutinised the objects in the room. A collapsed sofa, slightly damp from where water had been dripping on it; a simple wooden table with three chairs, one dragged back from when its previous occupant had stood up to leave; a bookcase with a few travel books. The thin, bare floorboards creaked and groaned as he crossed the room. First, he pushed the table and chairs over, checking underneath the seats and the tabletop. He then took the cushions off the sofa, opening their cases and emptying the packing material onto the floor. Holding each of the books by its spine, he shook them vigorously. Finally he turned the bookcase over and examined every flat surface on it. Nothing. Working faster now, he moved to the other rooms. In the kitchen he opened and peered inside the cooker. He opened every cupboard and drawer of the faded yellow kitchen units – looking inside, underneath, feeling around for concealed compartments. Next room. The bedroom had been stripped of most of its furniture, only a broken steel bed and melamine bedside unit remaining. What little that could be searched was done meticulously.
The bathroom was the last room in the house, there being no attic. Here the man slowed down, as if to prolong the possibility of success. The room did not look promising. It consisted of a freestanding bath, a sink and a toilet. He opened the cistern lid and peered inside. He looked behind it, feeling around where he couldn’t see. Looking under the bath, his fingers brushed against something. He pulled it out. It was an old sliver of soap. He threw it in the sink and continued searching. On one wall was a door, presumably the airing cupboard. There were some moth eaten towels and a hot water tank. He felt around the tank, being careful not to miss any part of it. Nothing. He looked at the walls of the cupboard itself. Stupid. Should have brought a torch. The windows were covered in cobwebs and dust, so he opened one to get some more light into the room. It was then that he saw something. Out of the corner of his eye. So subtle that it took him a few seconds to register what it was. The extractor fan had something stuffed into it. Anyone casually observing it would have thought it was there to stop it from making a noise or letting cold air in. He reached up and pulled it out…