She flapped her arms again, feeling particularly conscious that Danny Vine was over there in the trees somewhere. Hidden, with the others, out of her range of sight, but with a good view of her. She smiled a little to herself as she thought of him. She'd had a good time the night before, being the centre of attention between him and Michael Hill, and she wasn't above playing the two off against each other. She was young after all, she was entitled to a bit of fun, she worked hard enough, God knows, to be allowed to let her hair down now and again, and misbehave a little. Not that playing men against each other was misbehaving, it was redressing the balance, if you asked her. And anyway, she wasn't sure which of them she preferred. Danny Vine was confident, fit, attractive, but he knew it. She could tell he was used to women eating out of the palm of his hand, but she knew how to deal with his type. Michael Hill, on the other hand, was quieter, but that meant he listened, he took interest and really paid attention. And while she didn't normally go for the blond-haired, blue-eyed Nordic type, she couldn't deny she was attracted to him. She was attracted to them both, in fact, so didn't feel any great rush to choose between them. She had gone off for a pizza with Danny after the pub last night but had agreed to go out with Michael tomorrow night for a drink and a curry. She smiled a little to herself again, lost in her thoughts, and then started as someone rustled through the leaves right behind her. She spun round to see a middle-aged, bald man staring at her. He was wearing a bright yellow duffel coat with a Burberry scarf wrapped round his neck.
'Can I help you at all?' he asked.
Sally shook her head. If this was the curly-haired man in his twenties or thirties who had flashed Valerie Manners yesterday morning, then he'd had a really, really bad night. She shook her head. 'No, that's okay, thanks, I've got it covered.' Unconsciously she pulled the cloak she had been given a little tighter around her shoulders.
The man made no move to go. 'I'm very good with punctures. I've got a bike myself. Well, several actually.' He shrugged and smiled. 'You know how it is.'
Sally had absolutely no idea. 'I'll be fine, thanks.'
'You work at the South Hampstead?'
'I'm sorry?'
The man gestured. 'Your uniform.'
Sally sighed, this man obviously wasn't going to go away. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her warrant card and held it out for him to see. 'No, I work at White City police station. I'm a detective constable. And I'm working here.' She didn't hide the impatience in her voice
The man didn't seem fazed, however, he just smiled good-naturedly. 'Oh, I see. Well, I'll let you get on. My name's James Collins. Mr Collins. I'm the obstetric surgical registrar at the hospital. Didn't like to think one of our own was stranded.'
Sally smiled back, embarrassed now. 'Oh, well, thanks again.' She nodded self-consciously as he walked away, she had been sure that the man was a pervert, that he was hitting on her at least. It was the uniform she guessed, what was it with men and uniforms? She looked down at the unflattering cut of it, the plain colour, the thick tights, the simple, black elasticated belt and didn't understand it at all. And then a thought struck her.
'Boss!' Sally's voice came out louder than she intended, almost a scream.
Delaney came crashing through the undergrowth closely followed by Danny Vine. Bob Wilkinson brought up the rear at a leisurely pace.
Delaney looked around, confused. 'What the hell happened, Sally?'
'I had a thought.' She could see he wasn't looking too impressed and rushed ahead before he could say more. 'About the belt buckle, sir.'
'What belt buckle?'
'That the dead girl was wearing. The silver buckle. The Green Man in the woods.'
She had his attention now. 'Go on.'
