John is?’ he asked again, plucking fretfully at the sheet. ‘He should be here by now.’
‘You’ll see him soon,’ said Finn, and held the frail hand until Boniface fell once again into a shallow sleep. Finn took the tea cosy from his pocket and placed the cold hands inside. Boniface stirred but didn’t waken.
‘A gift from a good old lady.’
As the soft wool warmed his hands, the old man’s body visibly relaxed. Finn was not to know, but the Kenyan Ambassador himself could not have thought of a better use for Mrs Pargetter’s gift.
21
Jilly Baker and Mr Pie
SENIOR SERGEANT GRAHAM PATTERSON WAS annoyed, uncharacteristically slamming his office door behind him as he left at the end of his shift. The commissioner hated bad publicity, and here he was, accused of missing vital evidence in a case in which he knew he’d followed every lead and obeyed every protocol. The file had been sent upstairs and now the system was going into damage control. Patterson was mortified to be second-guessed by his fellow officers. However, beyond his mortification, he felt some excitement. Amber-Lee’s death had been the first case of its type he’d investigated as the officer in charge. He’d given the girl—Fern, was it? No, Moss. He’d given Moss as much help as he could because he wanted the case closed, and this new piece of evidence could well provide the key. So he was waiting impatiently for Forensics to report on their findings. Meanwhile he had to deal with the fall-out from the press.
As he pulled out of the car park, he turned on the radio. The deputy commissioner would be interviewed in a few minutes. She was the consummate political animal, and Senior Sergeant Patterson had no great hopes of support from that direction.
He listened grimly as the interviewer began. ‘Good morning, Deputy Commissioner. You’re a busy person so we’ll cut to the chase. I presume you’re aware of the new evidence in the case of the accident victim known as Amber-Lee. What action are you taking now the photograph has come to light?’
‘Good morning, Peter. I’m sure your listeners will be pleased to know that Forensics is working on the photograph now in an attempt to identify when and where it was taken. You must remember, though, we only have Brenda Lefroy’s word that it did belong to Amber-Lee and that it was, in fact, a photo of her family.’
‘Of course, time will tell. But what about Graham Patterson, the officer in charge of the case—has he been reprimanded?’
‘Hold on, Peter. We’re looking at the files and in due course we’ll make a decision regarding the thoroughness of the original investigation. Senior Sergeant Patterson is a respected officer and must be given the benefit of the doubt until we learn otherwise.’
Graham Patterson was surprised by but grateful for this qualified support, and as the interview moved on to budget allocation for new police vehicles he switched over to a music station. He was heading for home, but on a sudden whim he pulled into the car park of the forensics laboratory. He went to reception, showed his ID, and followed directions to Lab 4 where he found his friend, Clara Thomasetti, hard at work.
‘The photo?’ she said. ‘That was easy. I’ve already sent out the report. You know how they’re hurried through when the press get their teeth into a story.’
‘So what did you find?’
‘It was common photographic paper for the time. Used all over by Kodak. The photo was developed around ’83, ’84, we reckon, which would fit with her estimated age. So would the clothes and hairstyles, according to our expert.’ She looked at him with sympathy. ‘Anyway, how are you? It must be a tough time right now.’
He shrugged. ‘Comes with the territory. I heard the deputy commissioner on the radio. She was okay. But to be honest, I’m just interested in what else you found out from the photo.’
‘There are two young girls in the photo. That Brenda person didn’t know which one was Amber-Lee, 282 but one of them is looking at the dog as though she owns it. Only a guess, but I reckon the other one’s our girl. She told Brenda that the dog was her cousin’s, remember?’
‘Yes, Mr Pie. Brenda said she thought the snapshot was taken somewhere in England . . .’
‘Easy, that one. Blackpool Pier. She either lived nearby or was there on holiday.’