CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The police station was busy. Everyone had their hands full and the phone was ringing off the hook. Trev finally finished working through the garbage with the constable and had kept aside a number of items of interest. As he’d believed, most of the rubbish was from the same source with recurring themes in the eco-bags. Nothing in those bags offered any suggestion of wrong doing.
The white plastic bag though was different. The phone belonged to Cecil. Once it was plugged in and charging, the logo of his business appeared and Mrs McKenzie had confirmed it after Trev sent her a photo. She’d provided the password and Katrina had spent an hour working through the information, making notes with an occasional, “Yes,” beneath her breath. Fingerprints were with a crime scene i
