of graphology remains.’
Kim handed him the note of her expectations and took the two pieces of paper from her back pocket.
‘Would you take a look at these?’
He put her list to the side and reached for them. ‘Aah, copies.’
‘Is that a problem?’ Bryant asked.
‘It’s better if it’s the original document, but these are good copies,’ he said, inspecting them both. ‘Yes, I think I can do something with these.’
‘What makes the original different?’ Kim asked.
‘You can tell a lot about a person by the force of the actual writing onto a sheet of paper; but never mind, we have a lot to work with.’
He met her gaze. ‘You’re not going to get anything right now. This isn’t a drive-through kind of thing. There are well over a hundred basic stroke formations to be identified.’
Kim couldn’t help her disappointment that there was no immediate snapshot to take away.
‘I’m sorry that’s not what you want to hear but the general picture of writing – such as where is it on the page, are margins wide or narrow, are they equal, is writing large or small, heavy or light, consistent or messy – all tell us something, but only in conjunction with the individual stroke formations, like where are the T bars placed, how long are the lower loops, are the circle letters open or closed.’
‘But surely…’
‘Okay, I’m not a party trick kind of guy,’ he said, reaching for the list Kim had just written.
‘Hmmm… officer,’ he said, looking over the page, ‘I can tell straight away that you are determined. What I can’t see is whether that trait gets you in hot water.’
‘It does,’ Bryant said, leaning forward.
‘Is your determination mixed with recklessness?…’
‘Yes,’ Bryant answered again.
Kim offered him a look.
‘Are you determined to the degree of bloody-mindedness?’
Kim looked at Bryant who closed his mouth.
‘And even without his handwriting, I can see that your colleague there just exhibited the trait of bravery coupled with self-preservation. Knowing a couple of personality traits will tell you nothing unless I can tell you how the traits work together.’
Kim accepted defeat. Yes, she wanted an answer, but she wanted it accurate.
‘How long?’
‘I’d normally want three to four days.’
‘Shit,’ Kim said, picturing bodies stacking up in that period of time.
‘But given the urgency,’ he continued, ‘give me twenty-four hours.’
Kim knew that was the best she was going to get if she wanted a reasonable picture of their killer.
She stood, turned towards the door and then hesitated.
‘You said you didn’t care much for party tricks, so why did you do one?’ she asked.
He nodded towards her colleague. ‘Because when you come back tomorrow, I’d like you both to be receptive to what I have to say. I won’t justify my findings again.’
‘Touché,’ Bryant said, nodding his understanding.
‘Thank you for—’ her words were cut off by the ringing of her phone.
‘Excuse me,’ she said as Reg started to pour his coffee into one of the plants.
She turned away and took out her phone.
It was Penn at the search site.
Please God, let Archie be found, she thought, mentally crossing her fingers.
She answered the call and listened as she worked her way back to the front of the house.
She paused at the front door to ask the question that was playing on her lips.
‘What the hell is she doing there?’
Forty-Three
It was almost eleven when Bryant pulled up at Stevens Park. A light drizzle had just started to smatter against the windscreen.
Kim headed straight for Penn, who was to the left of an open-booted squad car.
‘Are you sure it’s her?’ Kim asked, continuing the conversation they’d started as she’d been leaving the graphologist’s home.
Penn reached into the boot and took out a sheet of paper.
‘Says here Ella Nock arrived at 8.55 a.m. and was paired with a woman called Dorothy Birch to search down to the traffic island, along Caledonia and back up the other side.’
‘Has she been back yet?’ Kim asked.
Penn shook his head as the drizzle turned to heavy rain.
‘Here come a batch of volunteers now,’ Penn noted, nodding towards the walkway to the main gates.
A group of four women and two men were approaching the co-ordination point at speed, driven by the rain no doubt.
Kim picked out Ella pulling up her jacket collar around her neck.
Inspector Plant appeared at the car as the group approached.
‘Thank you all for coming out to help,’ he said as the three sets of two offered their names and declared their area searched.
‘Ella,’ Kim said, stepping forward, ‘I’m surprised to see you here.’
Ella shrugged as