Frost 3 - Night Frost by R. D. Wingfield

Author:R. D. Wingfield
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Mullett was almost dancing with excitement. He waved the Forensic report at Frost. ‘We’ve got him, Inspector. We’ve got him . . . and we can all take credit. A chance observa tion on your part, scientific skill and expertise from Forensic plus solid devoted team work under my supervision.’ He lowered himself down into his chair and swung from side to side in smug satisfaction. Frost thought this was a good time to hand over the forged car expenses.

‘Excellent,’ said Mullett, giving them barely a glance as he signed them with a flourish of his Parker and tossed them into his out-tray. ‘Things are really moving our way at last. How’s the inventory going?’

‘Almost finished it, Super,’ said Frost, trying to remember where he had hidden the damn thing.

‘Good,’ beamed Mullett. ‘I want this man Greenway picked up and brought in right now. How many men will you need?’

‘The fewer the better, Super. He lives out in the wilds. If he spots half the Denton police force converging on his cottage, he might do a runner.’

‘Very well, but don’t let there be any foul-ups.’ He was itching for Frost to go so he could pick up the phone and casually let drop to the Chief Constable that, despite the appalling manpower shortage, Denton Division had once again come up trumps. Then his euphoria crash-dived as he remembered what he had originally wanted to see Frost about. He snatched up the Denton Echo and jabbed at the headlines. ‘Have you seen this? “Granny Ripper! Town of Terror!” ‘What are we doing about it? The press are screaming for our blood and County are breathing down our necks.’

‘I might be able to give you a quick result,’ Frost said, filling him in on Wally Manson. ‘We’ve sent the jeans over to Forensic.’

Mullett could hardly contain himself. Wait until the Chief Constable heard about this. ‘I want Manson picked up and brought in,’ said Mullett, scooping up the telephone and dialling.

‘I’ll make a note of it,’ said Frost solemnly.

‘Chief Constable, please,’ said Mullett. He put his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘That will be all, Inspector.’ As the door closed behind Frost, he straightened his tie and smoothed back his hair. ‘Oh, hello, sir.’ He put on his weary voice. ‘Sorry if I don’t sound all that brilliant . . . lack of sleep, you know . . .’ He gave a modest laugh. ‘Someone’s got to keep an eye on things, sir . . . Some double good news on the Paula Bartlett case and the senior citizen killings that I thought you should have right away . . .’

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