“Banks asked, examining the faded slip of paper that Sergeant Hatchley had dropped on the desk in front of him. “Forensic said it’s some kind of receipt from a till,” Hatchley explained. “You know, one of those bits of paper they give you when you buy something. People usually just drop them on the floor or shove them in their pockets and forget about them. They found it in his right trouser pocket. It’d been there long enough to go through the washer once or twice, but you know what bloody wiza...rds they are in the lab.” Banks knew. He had little faith in forensic work as a means of catching criminals, but the boffins knew their stuff when it came to identification and gathering evidence. Their lab was just outside Wetherby, and Gristhorpe must have put a “rush” on this job to get the results back to Eastvale so quickly. The body had been discovered only the previous afternoon, and it was still soaking in a Lysol bath. Banks looked closely again at the slip, then turned to its accompanying transcription.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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