Her mouth opened; but before any words came out I raised a finger in disapproval and said: 'Ah! If you don't stop talking I shall leave.
I'm only staying if you promise to be quiet.'
She clamped her lips together in an exaggerated grimace and sank back against the pillow. I poured some fruit juice and held it while she drank. She silently mouthed the words: 'Thank you,' and gave me a smile so warm the central heating switched off. She was going to make it, and so, God willing, was I. There was still a round-the- clock guard at the hospital, but they were protecting the wrong person. It was reassuring, though, to know that Annabelle was safe. Peterson was convinced that the so-called Mushroom Man, or Destroying Angel, was responsible, but I couldn't see it. The Angel name could easily have leaked out. It was just some lunatic with a gun having a go at Charlie Priest. I have plenty of enemies. I found a new writing pad and fibre-tip and settled down in front of the fire with a mug of tea and a packet of custard creams. An hour later I had a list of ten possibles, with stars in double circles against the first three. The winners were, in order of preference:
Don Purley
ABC (Bradshaw and Wheatley)
Eddie Grant I had a bowl of cornflakes, to save time in the morning, and went to bed. As I closed the curtains I noticed a car about a hundred yards up the road. It was out of place. I sneaked into the spare bedroom in the darkness, and took a longer look at it. While I was watching its lights came on. It made a U-turn and drove away. It was nearly one a.m.' and for once I slept like a doorstep.
'Mornin', troops!' I hollered as I breezed into the office at about ten o'clock, chirpy as a barrow wheel.
'Morning,' grumbled assorted voices.
'God, you look rough, Dave,' I said to Sparky, reaching across his desk and giving him a chuck under the chin.
He swiped at my hand as I pulled it back. 'It's this lot,' he complained, waving at the paperwork. 'Back to TWOCs and burglaries.
Nobody told them to behave themselves while we were otherwise engaged.
I thought Doc Evans had given you a sick note.'
'He has. This is a private visit. What's happening with Dewhurst?'
'Not much. Nigel set up a bedside interview in Bentley, but he refused to speak. He's going for the sympathy vote.'
'That won't do him any good.'
Maggie wandered over. 'How's Annabelle?' she asked.
'Loads better, thanks. I called in briefly this morning and they'd had her out of bed for a few minutes. Far too soon, in my opinion. She's still in a lot of pain. Actually, I've something to ask you. Come into the office.'
When we were out of earshot of the others I said: 'Annabelle's asked me to take her some clothes from home. I haven't a clue what she needs.
You wouldn't do the necessary for me, would you?'
'If I can. What have you in mind?'
'Well, if I take you to her house, could you fill a suitcase with stuff? Underwear, night dresses you know.'
Maggie started laughing. She snorts when she laughs, making it impossible not to join in. 'You're the limit, Charlie,' she giggled.
'Well, I'd be embarrassed, rummaging through her underwear.'
'But you'd like to, wouldn't you?'
'Er, yes, I suppose I would. I'd just prefer her to be there at the time.'
'You're blushing!'
'No I'm not!'
'Yes you are!'
'It's one of my endearing traits.'
She blew her nose and shook her head. 'When do you want to go?'
'To suit you. I'm not working.'
'Neither am I the boss is off sick. Are you going to be here a while?'
'Probably.'
'Give me the key and her address and I'll go now.'
'I've got friends I haven't used yet,' I said, fishing the key for the Old Vicarage from my pocket.
Don Purley was a mean hombre. I put him away for life, with a fifteen-year tariff. Last night I couldn't remember the name of his wife, but as soon as I looked at the list again it came back to me.
Rhoda. I wrote it next to his. They were a weird couple into body-building and martial arts. She was only five foot two, but had striking red hair and bigger muscles on her nipples than I had on my arms. They ran a health club just outside Heckley. He was my favourite for bearing a grudge, but he still had three or four years to serve there's no remission on the judge's tariff. Unless he'd escaped, of course.
Purley murdered the Ho twins, Michael and David. They were Hong Kong Chinese, who'd come over here with a suitcase that rattled and a kilogram of heroin strapped to their bodies. Something had panicked them, and they'd dumped the drugs down the plane toilet. That left them in a strange land with no source of income. Being as enterprising as most of their countrymen, they were soon in business again. They cashed in on the fearsome reputation of the Triads and started a protection racket. We were watching them, but not closely enough. I was called to their flat and found one of them strangled and the other one's head kicked to a pulp.
The doctor who attended the scene pointed to a crescent-shaped imprint behind the Adam's apple of the strangled one, who happened to be David.
He'd been killed by a karate grip to the throat. It's easy enough you just strike out and grab the other fellow's windpipe. He stands there, arms and legs free, but so paralysed with pain he can't do a thing about it. An agonising death follows if you don't release him. David's bulging eyes and lolling tongue were testimony to the effectiveness of the hold.
'That's where his thumbnail dug in,' the doctor said, pointing at the scarlet arc. Ever since then my first glimpse of the new moon had resurrected the ghost of David Ho.
'In that case,' I declared, 'there's a thumbprint just behind it.'
The doctor looked at me as if he were examining the contents of a bedpan. 'Skin on skin,' he sniffed. 'You're wasting your time.'
When the SOCO and the photographer arrived I gave strict instructions that nobody else was to enter the room. We'd just started using super glue in fingerprint work. Something in the fumes given off by the glue reacts with the constituents of the dab to leave a white deposit. It's called polymerisation, but I don't think anybody fully understands why it works. The SOCO shook his head but agreed to give it a try. Trouble was, you're supposed to place the object in question, usually a knife or a gun, in a fume cabinet. We were talking about a human head, still attached to the body. I took the biggest plastic bag we had and pulled it over David's head. The SOCO put the glue inside and I sealed the bag as best I could with Sellotape. It wasn't pleasant work. The photographer stood by with his array of fluorescent lights. Images often show up better under ultra violet.
We waited and watched, half expecting the bag to steam up with the products of respiration, but it didn't. Across the room a bluebottle buzzed around the bloody head of Michael Ho.
Periodically SOCO looked inside and renewed the glue. The photographer tried his various lights and took some 'before' pictures. We were breaking every rule in the Health and Safety at Work handbook. We should have been wearing protective goggles, breathing apparatus, and diving suits. I closed my eyes when he used the ultra violet.
It didn't work.
I said: 'There's a print behind that mark, and I want it. What can we try next?'
'Ninhydrin?'
'OK. Give him a squirt.'
'It'll turn him pink.'
'He won't mind.'
'What will the pathologist think?'
