got the cold shoulder at work, and out in the gay bars.
"That's why he decided to leg it. It's a tragedy. Worse than that, it's a pointless tragedy.
"This hasn't taken the police an inch closer to finding the killer."
Penny lit another cigarette and read through her copy. "Pick the bones out of that, Kevin," she said softly, hitting the keys that would save the file and transmit it via her modem to the office computer. Then, as an afterthought, she typed: Memo to news desk
from Penny Burgess, Crime Desk.
I am taking tomorrow (Monday) as time off in lieu of working extra hours last week and today. Hope this doesn't pose too many problems!
"A Land Rover Discovery, metallic grey or dark blue?" Dave Woolcott confirmed, making a note on a pad. "That's what the man said," Carol agreed. "Right. With it being Sunday, I can't get a full rundown from Swansea on every vehicle like that on our patch,"
Dave said. "What we could do, though, is get a team going round the main dealerships and the quality second-hand dealers asking for their records of anyone who's bought one," Kevin suggested. Like all of them, he was fired with an excitement only slightly tempered by the tragic news from Barleigh.
"No," Brandon said.
"That's a waste of time and personnel. There's no guarantee that the killer bought his vehicle locally. We wait until tomorrow morning. Then we go flat out."
Everyone looked disappointed, even though they recognized the force of Brandon's argument.
"In that case, sir," Carol said,
"I'd like to work with Dave compiling lists of computer hardware and software suppliers so we're ready to roll with that as soon as there are some spare bodies to hit the phones."
Brandon nodded.
"Good thinking, Carol. Now, why don't the rest of us go home and rediscover what our houses look like?"
Tony was stretched out on the sofa, trying to persuade himself he was enjoying the luxury of watching TV when the doorbell rang. The hope of company come to rescue him from his restless boredom catapulted him to his feet and down the hall. He opened the door, a smile already spreading across his face.
The smile died halfway as he registered that he was out of luck.
There was a woman on the doorstep, but she wasn't one of his friends or colleagues. She was tall, big- boned, with heavy, blunt features and a strong, square jaw. She pushed her long dark hair away from her face and said,
"I'm really sorry to trouble you, only my car's broken down and I don't know where there's a pay phone. I wondered if I might use your phone to call the AA? I'll pay for the call, of course ..."
Her voice trailed off and she smiled apologetically.
When I clocked Sergeant Merrick in the Sackville Arms, I thought I was going to pass out. I'd only gone there because I knew the detectives from Scargill Street use it. I wanted to hear what the gossip was among the murder squad. I wanted to hear them talk about me and my accomplishments. The last thing I expected was to see so familiar a face staring out at me.
I was sitting unobtrusively in the corner when I saw Merrick come in.
I debated whether to leave, but I decided that might make me noticeable. The last thing I wanted was for him to recognize me and follow me for whatever reasons of his own. Besides, why should I let a policeman drive me away from my lunch break?
But I couldn't stop the churning in my stomach in case he caught sight of me and moved across to speak to me. I wasn't afraid of him, but I first didn't want to draw attention to myself. Luckily, he was with two of his colleagues, and they were too busy discussing something me, probably, had they but known it to pay much attention to anybody else. I recognized the woman from the papers.
Inspector Carol Jordan. She looks better in the flesh than in print, probably because her hair's a lovely shade of blonde. The other man I hadn't seen before, but I filed his face away for future reference.
Carroty-red hair, pale skin, freckles, boyish features. And of course, Merrick, head and shoulders above the others, some kind of dressing on his head. I wondered how he'd come by that.
Fd never hated Merrick the way I hated some of the others, even though he'd taken me into custody a couple of times. He'd never treated me with the