Digging Up Dirt

By B L Els

Holding on till the bitter end, Duncan realizes he has to let go of what would have been his inheritance. Not able to make the payments of the property, his inheritance slips through his fingers. Flung in to a state of desperation, he devises a plan to dodge homelessness and destitution.

Josephine strikes it lucky and buys her home at an auction. But things seem rather bleak when a body is found on her property.

Wanting to find out all there is to know, Josephine decides to find out more about the original owners. Before she even begins her investigation odd occurrences happen.

One body leads to another and a can of worms is opened. Oslo stumbles on to the proof that Sheila is the mastermind behind the death of her parents, the near-death of her husband, and robbing people of what is rightfully theirs. The pieces of the puzzle start slotting in to place as Oslo heads up the investigation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B L Els
• Release date: May 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005460433

B L Els

Author Els is the victim and survivor of an attempted murder. Never thinking she would be the target of violence she was brutally attacked in her home. Ending up with over forty stitches on her head. Her assailant wielded his axe and she retaliated with a frying pan. After surviving her terrifying ordeal, she is thankful to be alive and has immersed herself in writing.Author Els resides in Kwa-Zulu Natal, a province on the South Coast of South Africa. Feel free to browse her website https://authorblels.wordpress.com/ drop a line via email [e-mail] or follow on Twitter https://www.twitter.com/bl_elsPostal Address:P O Box 258, Annerley, 4230, Kwa-Zulu Natal, Republic of South Africa

Book preview

Chapter 1

Duncan sat in the basement wallowing in self-pity. The basement, which was part of his ancestral home, was an enormous expanse of space. Through the years he had converted it in to a second home. It even included his workshop and the garage. His furniture was sturdy and had been in the family for centuries. Everything he owned would be considered an antique. But he preferred it that way. Being a large built man of over six-foot, the size of the furniture catered for him in every way. He didn’t need fluffy cushions and bulky couches.

Most of his work was done sitting in his spacious study. The vegetables he grew in the garden filled his fridge and if he had to go to town, it was to stock up on supplies for a month. He left his home only when he had to replenish stocks.

Duncan looked around knowing he had to pay a visit to the bank. There was a very important decision to be made. Give up everything or beg, plead and try and turn things around for the better. In his mind, he knew the bank would turn him down without consideration. But in his heart, he felt there might be a chance to keep the house. He made a point of going in to the house every month and dusting, vacuuming, and making sure it was as neat as a pin. The house stood as though it was lived in as before. The lights came on with the timer. Duncan had made sure that it looked habited. Meanwhile, he had safeguarded himself so that no one would know that the basement existed and was his home. Once he closed the doors and put the wooden guards in place, not a soul could enter. His windows had been replaced with one-way glass. He could see everything, but he would not be seen. Over the years he had become a hermit.

He gathered his pride and put it straight in to his pocket and made his way to the bank. Duncan walked in to the bank manager’s office and was shown to a chair. The bank manager was the most intimidating and unfriendly person one could imagine. He didn’t say much but gestured towards the chair and opened the file on his desk. Unfortunately, the property will be auctioned off within the week, Mervyn, the bank manager said.

How does that work? Do you have troops of people walking through the house and touching everything?

Your sarcasm and wit are unfitting Mister Willis. What does it matter whether they touch or not? Everything inside the house remains. The house will be sold off as one entity. With the contents. Once the sale has been finalized all proceeds will go to the bank. If we make a profit whatever is left will go in to your account. The file will be closed. He snapped the file shut and looked at Duncan.

When?

Tuesday. Whoever buys the property takes ownership the day of the sale or once their payment is made.

So whatever you get, you take? Whether you make a profit or not?

Afraid so. You can’t make the payment. You can’t keep up with the rates and the taxes. I see no point that you even try and keep the house. We can’t even contact you. How do we contact you if we proceed with the auction?

You can’t contact me. I don’t have a phone. Duncan slowly stood up to leave. He felt defeated. He set out to conquer the world, and the world seemed to have conquered him. Proceed with the auction. If you make a profit, you can deposit it directly in to my bank account. Do I need to sign any forms? Mervyn turned the file towards him and held the pen in the air. Duncan took the cheap plastic pen held up to him and signed his signature allowing the auction to go ahead. Even though it wasn’t necessary but merely a formality and the process to follow.

Mervyn stood up and Duncan walked towards the door. He walked out and shut it firmly behind him. The thoughts that were darting in and out of his mind seemed rather odd. But while he was sitting listening to Mervyn waffling on, he was mapping out his future. He made a decision not to move. The new owner would take ownership of the property with him inside without even realizing it.

Duncan walked out of the bank and climbed straight in to his van and made his way to the wholesaler. He bought everything he would need for the next six months. People would think him insane. It seemed as though he was stockpiling for the winter. But it didn’t matter. By the end of the week, he would have literally plundered the vegetable garden and frozen every vegetable he could lay his hands on. He had enough gas to last for months. Water was never a problem with the system he had installed. No one would know. Duncan would shut every door and the new owners wouldn’t even know he was there. As he bought his items he added a few more things to the list. He would not run out of a single item.

Chapter 2

By Tuesday, Duncan was ready to seal himself in to the basement. In the evenings, he checked that his lights were not visible through the thick curtains. He had been in to the house and checked that the noise of the running water wasn’t heard. Duncan made sure of his gas reserves. There was nothing that he had forgotten. Even the fuel tank of his vehicle had been topped up and the van had been for a valet. He could focus on writing his next book. Even though he didn’t make a fortune selling his books, the few that he had sold had lined his bank account rather well. It had paid for everything he had bought for him to be able to survive for quite a while. Just a pity he hadn’t earned enough to pay the monthly instalment of the house and the upkeep.

On Tuesday morning Mervyn stood waiting patiently with the auctioneer, Alex. This doesn’t look good Alex.

Just be patient Mervyn. Someone will come.

They will want to take a look inside the house. It might turn them off that they are getting all that old furniture which they have to somehow dispose of at their expense. Oh, look, someone is coming up the driveway.

They both looked at the enormous vehicle which pulled in to the driveway and parked next to their vehicles. Josephine climbed out of her van dressed in her immaculate navy suit with her sheer pantyhose and navy stilettoes. Somehow, Mervyn, I don’t think so. She seems like a woman of the world. Why would she even be here? Alex commented.

Josephine walked towards the men. She was a small woman in stature. With her perfectly groomed short and sleek hairstyle she looked like a model who had just stepped off of a glossy page in a magazine. Her make-up was perfect. Right. Morning men. Begin the auction, please. The notification said twelve, Josephine said.

Mervyn looked at Alex and nodded. Alex looked at the house. The house is being sold as a lot and the starting offer— Alex said.

Please, spare me the banter and the waffle. I read everything in the notification. You don’t have to verbally repeat everything like a replay button. Draw up the papers. Hit that hammer or whatever you call it, to finalize the sale. Load your podium and I will make out the cheque. Who do I make it out to and when will the sale be processed? Josephine asked as she looked at Alex.

Mervyn almost stuttered and stammered as he spoke. If you make out the cheque, make it out to the bank. The sale will be finalized and processed the moment your cheque has been cleared, Mervyn said.

Get on to your bank and have it cleared over the phone please, Josephine said and handed her cheque book to Mervyn. You can give them my details telephonically. I will not sit for days while your inefficient staff takes their time. Mervyn raised his eyebrow and took the cheque book from her and looked at her. Oh for Pete’s sakes! Josephine took her cell phone from her pocket and handed it to Mervyn. He quickly made a call and stood and nodded and waited. He seemed to wait forever. Josephine walked up and down and looked at the house. They didn’t know, but she knew every inch of the house. Living next door for many years, she had befriended the family. Most of her time had been spent with Duncan. They had been on every hiking trail, visited every gallery, museum, nightclub, and tourist attraction. They had always been a team and the best of friends. When her family moved they had lost touch. Even though cell phones had been around for quite a while, they didn’t have them in their day.

The bank is busy drawing up the papers as we speak. Your cheque has been cleared. If you can go in to the bank and sign the paperwork, please. Transfer of ownership will take place today. By the time you arrive at the bank it will probably be done, Mervyn said and handed the cell phone and cheque book to her.

Thank you. Arrange for the keys to be handed over, please. I need to move in by sunset. That is when I turn in to a vampire, Josephine said. The men looked at her as if horrified. She wanted to laugh as she looked at them. And if you believe that, you will believe anything. I will follow you. Josephine waited as they huffed and puffed and loaded the wooden podium on to the van. She followed Mervyn straight to the bank. The personnel almost bowed to her.

Mervyn had no idea that Josephine was a world-renowned dress designer. She was well known throughout the world. Her designs and garments fetched prices in the hundreds of thousands. She was a brand of her own. It didn’t matter to Josephine who bought her designs but it did matter that she made as much money as possible. Her life was kept out of the tabloids. She didn’t socialize and that was how she preferred to live. Her family called her a hermit. A hermit of the worst kind. She visited them every quarter when they had their family get together.

Josephine didn’t enjoy being disturbed. When she closed the door to her home she was able to apply her mind and create designs that won awards and brought in her sought after income.

She signed the forms and the transfer was processed immediately. Heads of departments were all involved to see that the sale sailed through the system instantaneously. The transfer of ownership was registered within minutes. The cheque was cleared and the transfer of funds was finalized. By the time she walked out of the bank, she had the keys in her hand. Mervyn sat in his office and heaved a huge sigh of relief. The few thousand they had made on the sale of the house covered the outstanding debt and a few thousand were deposited straight in to Duncan’s account. He closed the file and said a prayer of thanks to the house selling gods. Whoever they were, they had sent Josephine to him.

Chapter 3

Josephine went straight back to the house. She opened the door expecting cobwebs and dust but to her surprise, everything gleamed. The power was on and the water flowed. She walked from one bedroom to the next and admired the furniture. Furniture which made her feel at home. Josephine didn’t have her own home but lived in a suite at the hotel. The only things she owned were her vehicle, cell phone, top-notch office equipment, computer, a filing cabinet and everything related to her business. Other than that she had a wardrobe full of clothing. As she looked around she noticed pieces of furniture that were missing. Things that she remembered. Not that it mattered.

The house was worth a fortune as it stood on the biggest property in the suburb. The enormous size could fit a family of at least ten and the rooms were spacious. As she walked in to what was always Duncan’s bedroom a smile formed on her face. Yes, they had been friends for a long time. He was her one and only and her first love. They had spent many hours in his bedroom. Reading and listening to music, playing board games and planning their futures together. Little did they know they would be pulled apart by her family moving to a different town. She wondered what had happened to the family. Where was Sheila, his sister? Had his parents passed away or had something sinister happened? There were no reports in the papers. Josephine would have picked up on the articles if there were any. She scanned the newspapers via the internet daily.

Josephine picked up a picture frame and looked at the photograph. She gurgled with delight as she remembered when and where it had been taken. In the garden when it was particularly hot and they were mucking about with the hosepipe. Sheila had run out of the house and snapped away as they both stood soaking wet and literally drenched. Josephine put it back on the shelf and walked out of the bedroom. The thoughts of Duncan seemed to come back in a rush. Every moment spent with him was a happy one.

Duncan checked his banking account and almost whooped for joy. The amount deposited in to his account was more than he thought possible. If he continued living the way he had planned the money would last at least two years. He wanted to open another policy but thought twice about doing so. That was the reason why he couldn’t pay the outstanding amount on the house. Everything was tied up for years. He changed his mind and closed the banking site. Things would get better. He had a positive attitude and no debt. His freezer was full and he was in no rush to meet any deadlines. Deadlines that he always set for himself. Supper was next.

Standing in the kitchen, he stood chopping the onion and a wave of guilt seemed to take a hold of him. Every time he thought about the house he felt guilty. Guilty that he wasn’t able to keep hold of it the way he had planned. Letting it slip between his fingers to a total stranger. It felt as though his heart ached. His parents thought they were doing him a favour by leaving the house to him in their will. Thinking that the house was fully paid for after writing out a cheque and handing it to his sister Sheila to make the final payment. He hadn’t told them that she hadn’t made the payment. He had struggled for years to pay the instalments after their untimely, mysterious deaths. Meanwhile, Sheila had taken the money and moved. Even before they had passed away. Their death was still a mystery to everyone. Even to Duncan.

Duncan was very suspicious of Sheila and thought she had a hand in their deaths. He gave a heavy sigh. Well, I am still here and will be till my dying day. Whoever you are, I hope the house brings you a lot of joy. He smiled as he chatted to himself. There was only himself to blame if he fell in to the trap of depression. It was only him that could lift his