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“Oh, I don’t mind, dear. It was a little bit odd. See, he was asking about his brother, about Roy, and… well, they’ve never been very close.”

“So it was unusual for DCI Banks to be asking about him?”

“Yes.”

“What did he want to know?”

“He wanted to know if I knew where Roy was, just like you want to know where Alan is. What’s going on? Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

“Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Banks. We just need him to help us out with something, that’s all. Could you give me his brother’s address and phone number if you’ve got them?”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Banks. “I know his address by heart but I’m no good with numbers. You’ll have to wait a moment while I look it up.”

“That’s all right,” said Winsome. “I’ll hold.”

She heard the handset laid gently to rest on a hard surface, then the sound of muffled voices. A few seconds later, Mrs. Banks came back on the line and gave her the number. “He’s got one of those mobiles. Do you want that number, too?” she asked.

“Might as well.”

“Silly business, people having to stay in touch all the time,” said Mrs. Banks. “Makes you wonder how we managed without all these newfangled gadgets, but we did, didn’t we? Listen to me go on. You’re probably too young to remember.”

“I remember,” said Winsome, who had grown up in a shack high in Jamaica’s Cockpit Country, open to the elements, without telephone or electricity or any of the other myriad things that seemed so essential to life in twenty-first-century Britain.

Mrs. Banks gave her the number and Winsome said goodbye. For a moment she sat thinking, tapping her ballpoint on the pad, then she found DI Cabbot’s mobile number and picked up the phone again.

“Sorry about Blunt and Useless,” said DI Brooke. “They’re a right couple of prize plonkers, but it’s hard to get good help these days, and they just happened to be on duty.”

“Blunt and Useless?”

“Sharpe and Handy. Get it?”

A

They were sitting in a noisy pub on Brixton Road drinking pints of Director’s bitter. David Brooke was about Banks’s age, but he looked older and he was much more well-rounded, with a placid, moon-shaped red face that always made A

A

Her computer, at first glance, revealed nothing out of the ordinary. There was no diary and no personal papers, only a calendar, the days filled mostly with personal appointments. She had a dentist’s visit scheduled for the thirteenth. If there was anything else, it was for the computer experts to find. A

When she had finished at the flat, A

“So how are things going, Dave?” A

“Too long, if you ask me. Things are fine, thanks. Actually, the big news is that I’m up for promotion at last. Chief Inspector.”

“Congratulations, Dave,” said A

Brooke chuckled. “It does. How did the interview with the victim’s flatmate go?” he asked.

A





“I do indeed. A slow business.”

“The poor woman, though,” A

“I’ll have someone keep an eye on her, if you like. Drop by now and then, see how she’s doing.”

“Not Blunt and Useless.”

Brooke smiled. “No, I wouldn’t wish them on the poor lass. We’ve got some good police community-support officers.”

“All right,” said A

“No problem.”

“I don’t like to ask,” she went on, “but do you think you could also spare a couple of DCs to do a house-to-house? I’d do it myself, but I’d like to go out to Hounslow to visit one of the victim’s close friends tomorrow.”

“And what would they be asking about?”

“If anyone has noticed anything unusual or suspicious – strangers hanging about, that sort of thing.”

“I think we can manage that,” said Brooke. “Wouldn’t want our delicate DI’s feet getting sore, would we?”

“You’re a sweetheart, Dave.”

A

“Important news?” Brooke asked.

“We may have a lead on our missing DCI,” A

“Missing DCI?”

“It’s a long story.”

Brooke nodded toward A

“Why not,” said A

“What about a bite to eat? Then you can tell me all about your DCI over di

“Here?”

Brooke looked around and pulled a face. “You must be joking. Let’s have one more drink here, then we’ll find somewhere decent over the river, if you’re up for it?”

“That’d be fine,” said A

“Thriving, thank you.” Brooke paused. “You’re not very subtle, you know, A

“What do you mean?”

“You want to know if I’m still happily married, whether I represent any sort of threat to you. Well, I am, and I don’t. Do you behave like that whenever a man offers to buy you di

“Oh, you’re buying. I didn’t know that. That’s all right, then.”

“Now you’re hiding behind flippancy.”

“You’re right,” said A

“Want to talk about them?”

A