The technician continued with the explanation of his findings. She listened, but at the same time she couldn't help but think he must be single. No one, man or woman, would be able to feign interest in someone with such a monotone voice and an inability to convey a clear message. She was no stranger to forensics; with a degree in biology herself she figured she had a better understanding of science than most, but even she was losing this particular thread.
"Sorry, what was that last bit?"
"Er… which part? The Raman measurement analysis or the studying of the fibres under polarised light—"
"Yes, that part," Cassie said. "Can you clarify what I think you just said?"
"The analysis provided a positive."
"You've been able to match it? The strands of fibre are a match, you're sure?"
"Well, yes. As sure as we can be to within a margin—"
"Great. Can you email me a copy of the report as soon as you can?"
"I'll do it right now."
Cassie thanked him and hung up, slipping the mobile into her pocket. She switched hands with the coffee cup, wiping her left on the side of her jacket and re-examining the fingers. Raising the cup to her mouth, she blew the steam off the top whilst thinking through what she'd learnt from the call. It was what she expected, but not what she'd hoped for. This would cause ructions. The coffee was rank with a blotchy scum sitting on the surface, similar to what you get if you leave tea brewing too long. But this was coffee.
Resuming her walk up the stairs, she considered how to frame the news to Tamara. They would have to act, and soon. She considered calling her immediately but dismissed the thought. It was a conversation they should have in person. It could probably wait until Tamara got back from the errand she had to run anyway. Pushing open the double doors in the corridor, she turned immediately left and entered the CID ops room to find Tom standing in front of the information boards. The ones relating to the Gage murder and not Mary Beckett's.
He hadn't heard her walk in and her first reaction was shock. He wasn't casually eyeing the boards, he was reading through them like the SIO would. And he shouldn't be anywhere near them, not this time. He was concentrating so hard, his brow furrowed, that she was almost upon him when he noticed her. She startled him. It wasn't often that Tom ever appeared flustered, but this was one of those times. She nervously looked at where he was standing, trying to see what it was that he appeared so fixated on.
"Tom. Are you okay?" she asked, giving up on any pretence of subtlety. "You look like you've seen a ghost." She wanted him to know, to feel uncomfortable. However, he seemed unperturbed.
"Hi Cass. Where's Tamara?"
He sounded flat, distracted. He couldn't know what she did, so what had he seen? She glanced at the boards again.
"On an errand. She'll be back."
Tom nodded, his eyes drifting back to the board.
"Is there…" she said, leaning to one side so she would appear in his eye line. He looked at her blankly. "… anything I can help you with?"
"I had a visitor last night," Tom said, and it was as if a light switch went on and he snapped back to the present. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he produced an evidence bag and passed it to her. She examined it. "It was Adrian Gage's sister."
"What's this mean?" she asked, reading the note. It was incredibly cryptic and seemed to be written in haste. Tom shrugged. "Did she confirm it was her brother's handwriting?"
"Yes, she says so. She found it when she got in after a night out. I don't think she thought much of it until later. She has a key to his place and he hers. Have you met her?"
She nodded. "Yes, we had her carry out the identification. What did you make of her?"
Tom frowned. "Seemed on the level to me. Just as stumped by the note as I am."
Cassie re-examined it once more. It was an odd thing to write, particularly as this was his ex-wife's new partner.
"And you've had no contact with him?"
Tom shook his head. "No. Only in passing. I've no idea why he left it for me."
The thought came to her that it might be a warning of sorts, but she chose not to voice it. It was strange, though, that Carol Martins, the victim's brother, would take the note to Tom rather than mention it to either her or Tamara when they met. She hadn't offered them anything insightful at all to work with.
"Thanks," she said, smiling. "I'll look into it."
"Maybe you should have a word with Carol again, see if she's remembered anything since she spoke to me—"
"Yeah, thanks," Cassie said. "Like I say, I'll check it out."
Tom's eyes narrowed and she turned away from him and headed over to her desk, putting the bag down and shaking her mouse to bring her computer out of hibernation.
"I figured the paper was torn from a notepad, perhaps one of those made by companies with a logo across the top. It might be beyond the tear—"
"Tom!" she said, as sternly as she dared, looking at him and pursing her lips. "I said I'll look into it, and I will. Okay?"
He didn't seem pleased. Had she overstepped the mark? Not in her mind. That was entirely on him.
"Is there a problem?"
She was busily fumbling with paperwork on her desk, well aware she was trying to avoid a confrontation. He took a half-step towards her.
"Cassie, is there something on your mind?"
She thrust
