China Roses by Jo Bannister

Author:Jo Bannister [Jo Bannister]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2021-04-15T16:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

Sergeant Wilson compared Hazel’s measurements with his own, studying both sets of photographs through a magnifying glass. At length he said, ‘You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?’

‘That it’s a very common vehicle? That it’s a standard tyre as regards make and size? That the tracks at Myrton weren’t clear enough to make a definitive ID?’

Meadowvale’s scenes of crime officer gave her an appreciative glance. ‘You’re getting the hang of this detecting lark, aren’t you? Right on all points. Plus, only the nearside tyres went up on the verge, so I can’t say how wide the vehicle was. But judging from the impressions of the nearside wheels, and for all the good it’ll do you, it could have been a Transit. Without any evidence at all, I’d still have risked a small wager on it being a Transit. They’re adaptable, reliable, and everywhere. Have you shown a picture of your van to the witness?’

‘I’ll take one home tonight. You know he’s staying with me? He’s an old family friend,’ she added, then wondered why she felt the need to explain. ‘I’m just not sure how much help it’ll be even if he thinks he recognises it. His memories are all scrambled.’ She told him about the cellophane wrapper on the flowers she took to the hospital.

‘I can see how that would complicate matters,’ nodded Sergeant Wilson lugubriously. ‘Oh well – if our job was easy, anyone could do it.’

‘Can you think of anything else I should be doing? You know – lines of inquiry I should be pursuing?’

‘Oh no, you’re asking entirely the wrong man about that,’ said SOCO, back-pedalling furiously. ‘I don’t do detecting. I never did do detecting. I gather evidence, analyse it and collate it. Detecting is a whole other ball game.’

Hazel felt a surge of affection for the rotund sergeant – the title his by courtesy only now – a man who had been too slow to be a good beat officer and too amiable to be a good detective, but had found his milieu in the painstaking world of crime scene analysis.

She thought they were finished and was heading for the stairs – SOCO’s lair was in the basement at Meadowvale – when he called after her, ‘Ask Gabriel Ash. He’s a rare hand at thinking outside the box.’

To Hazel’s astonishment, it felt exactly as if he’d plunged a knife into her belly.

After she’d put the boys to bed, Frankie Kelly asked to see Ash in his study. He ushered her in; she closed the door behind them. He had a good idea what was coming. He asked her to sit but she remained on her feet. After an awkward moment he lowered himself onto the edge of his desk, which put their heads at approximately the same height.

She began without preamble. ‘Mr Ash, the current situation is not tenable.’ Perhaps because she was so small, or perhaps because she spoke perfect, classless English as only foreign nationals learn it, she could use words like ‘tenable’ without sounding pompous.

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