“I needed to clear my head, and I still had a couple of bones to pick with them. It was another raw, blustery December day, the sky teeming with grey scurrying clouds. I pulled my hood up, and put my head down into the wind, and maybe that’s why I didn’t see it until I almost stumbled across it—a post lying across the pavement. Attached to the post was a For Sale sign. Not Wolfe & Diabello, but Hendricks & Wilson. That was odd—it had been windy in the night, but not that windy. Even odder—as I t...urned the comer, there was another one, stuck into a hedge, a few hundred metres up the road. Then further along, I spotted another lying in a skip. There was no one in the Wolfe & Diabello office when I went in. I opened and closed the door again, making it ‘ping’, but still nothing happened. The third time I did it, Suzi Brentwood emerged from a door at the back; I thought I spotted a shifty look flit across her face before her professional smile composed itself.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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