“What do you want, Charlie?’ DCI Trevor Peacock didn’t seem pleased to see me, but at least we were still on first-name terms. It was two days after my first meeting with Mrs Crowther, and I’d just been to visit her again. ‘The bag lady, Mrs Crowther. She’s come up with the goods,’ I told him. ‘You’ve seen her again?’ ‘That’s right.’ ‘Well, we stayed away from her, just like you said. You certainly have a way with old ladies. How are you with the younger ones?’ ‘Just the same. They fall ...over themselves for me.’ ‘Lucky you. So what did she give you – his name and address and inside-leg measurements?’ ‘Almost as good as.’ I unrolled a coloured photocopy of the portrait Mrs Crowther had done for me and placed it in front of the DCL. It tried to roll itself up again, so I pinioned it with his coffee mug and an ashtray filled with paper clips. ‘That’s the man you’re looking for,’ I said. Mrs Crowther had done an excellent job.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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