side, Bradfield BX6 4LR "What does that mean?" Carol asked, pointing to the second option.
"The Discovery is registered to Christopher Thorpe and the software was bought by Angelica," Dave explained. "Using the wild-card option means that the machine sorted by address as well as by name. Well, Carol, you've got something. Whether it means anything or not, we'll have to see."
Penny Burgess strode over the rough, fissured limestone of Malham Pavement. The sky was the bright blue of early spring, the rough moorland grasses starting to look more green than brown. From time to time, larks shot out into the air and poured their songs into her ears. There were two occasions when Penny really came alive. One was on the trail of a hot story. The other was up on the high moorlands of the Yorkshire Dales and the Derbyshire Peak District. Out in the open air, she felt free as the skylarks, all pressure gone. No news desk demanding copy by an hour ago, no contacts to be appeased, no looking over her shoulder to be sure of staying ahead of her rivals. Just the sky, the moors, the extraordinary limestone landscape, and her.
For no reason, Stevie McConnell burst into her thoughts. He'd never see the sky again, never walk a moor and watch the turning of the seasons. Thank God she had the power to make sure that someone would pay for that inhuman deprivation.
Philip Crozier's house was a narrow, terraced three-storey modern town house, the ground floor consisting mainly of an integral garage.
Carol sat in the car, eyeing it up and down.
"We going in, ma'am?"
the young detective constable in the driving seat asked.
Carol thought for a moment. Ideally, she'd wanted Tony to be with her when she interviewed the people whose names the computer had spat out. She'd tried ringing him at home. No reply. Claire said he hadn't come into the office yet, which surprised her since he'd had a nine-thirty appointment. Carol had swung round by the house, but it looked exactly the same as it had the night before. Off having fun with his lady friend, she'd decided. Serves him right if he misses out on the showdown with Handy Andy, she thought maliciously, then immediately regretted her childishness. Failing Tony, she'd have liked to have had Don Merrick with her. But he was out pursuing other lines of enquiry that had flowed from the identification of the Discovery. The only person she could find who wasn't urgently involved with something else was DC Morris, on the third month of his secondment to CID.
"We might as well see if he's in," Carol said.
"Though he's probably at work."
They walked up the path, Carol taking in the details of the neatly trimmed lawn and the smart paintwork. The house didn't really fit Tony's profile. It was more like the victims' houses in terms of value and status, rather than the home of someone who aspired to their lifestyles. Carol pressed the bell and stepped back. They were about to give up and return to the car when Carol heard feet pounding downstairs. The door swung open to reveal a stocky black man dressed in grey sweat pants and a scarlet T-shirt, his feet bare. He couldn't have looked more different from Terry Harding's description. Carol's heart sank momentarily, then she reminded herself that Crozier might not be the only person with access to his software and his Discovery. He was still worth interviewing.
"Yeah?" he said.
"Mr Crozier?"
' "S right. Who wants to know?" His voice was relaxed, the Bradfield accent strong.
Carol produced her warrant card and introduced herself. "I wonder if we could come in and have a word, sir?"
"What about?"
"Your name has cropped up in. some routine enquiries and I'd like to ask you some questions for the purposes of elimination."
Crozier's brows furrowed.
"What sort of enquiries?"
"If we could just come in, sir?"
"No, hang on, what's all this about? I'm trying to get some work done here."
Morris stepped to Carol's side.
"There's no need to be difficult, sir, it's just routine."
"Mr Crozier isn't being difficult. Constable," Carol said coolly.
"I'd feel just the same in your shoes, sir. A car answering the description of yours has been involved in an incident, and we need to eliminate you from our investigation. We're speaking to several other people in connection with this enquiry, sir. It won't take long."
"All right then," Crozier sighed.
"You'd better come in."
They followed him up stairs carpeted in functional cord carpet into an open-plan living room-cum-kitchen. It