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he replied. ‘And your friend, the one that was pretty? I believe that she was not one either, but she was killed for something. Do you know who killed her?’

‘I’m getting close.’

‘Good,’ Karl rose from his own chair, walking to the fridge. A tall, tanned, robust German in his mid-sixties, Karl had been possibly the most laid back and calm member of the village as long as Declan could remember. ‘How can I help?’

‘I need to get to Woking,’ Declan explained. ‘There’s someone there that might help.’

‘You need a car,’ Karl turned back, passing Declan a can of some energy drink. ‘Here, you need to stay awake. I will also make coffee.’ He walked to the kettle, turning it on.

‘I can find you a car,’ he said. ‘I have a couple of courtesy ones that people who leave their cars with me for long periods of time use.’

‘That would be great,’ Declan replied. Karl held up a hand.

‘But,’ he said, his tone becoming more sober. ‘In return, you must do me something. That Helen Mirren woman?’

Declan nodded. He knew Karl had seen a woman who resembled the actress Helen Mirren visit Patrick Walsh frequently. Declan didn’t know who this was, but believed that this could be the mysterious Wintergreen, who had once worked with Patrick Walsh and Alexander Monroe as a Detective Sergeant back in the nineties; someone who now had become a ghost.

‘As soon as I find her, I’ll inform her of your intentions to court her,’ he smiled, trying to be as formal as Karl was. The German nodded at this, tossing Declan a set of keys.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Peugeot 308, outside the garage. Half a tank. I expect it back in the same condition.’

Declan took the keys, and the offered coffee, taking a sip. Even though this had been a brief conversation, this was the first normal one he’d had all day. He was almost loath to leave it.

Almost.

22

Cold Cases

The press conference had ended by the time that Anjli and Bullman returned to Temple Inn; Bradbury had already left with his entourage behind him, and only Frost, Billy and Sutcliffe remained. Even DC Davey wasn’t to be found on the lower levels, a note stating that she’d gone to another forensics laboratory to chase up some supplies.

Entering the upper floor of the offices, Anjli hadn’t even made it to her desk before Sutcliffe leaned out of his—no, Monroe’s office.

‘And where the hell have you been?’ he snapped. ‘We were supposed to have all officers here for the conference.’

‘I’m not working your terrorist case, remember?’ Anjli replied before reluctantly adding, ‘sir.’

‘You’re working the Monroe attack though, right?’ Frost lounged on one chair, his left arm resting lazily on the desk as he turned to face her. ‘Declan Walsh attacked him. So yeah, you’re working the terrorist case.’

‘No proof as yet on that,’ Anjli gave a smile to Frost. ‘But when we find out who really did it, we’ll let you know.’

‘And let us know if you find Monroe,’ Sutcliffe muttered, returning into the office as he spoke. ‘Bugger going off the grid like that just screams suspicion.’

‘I’m just here to print out a form and then we’re off again,’ Anjli explained, walking over to the printer and collecting some pages that were spitting out into the document feeder. ‘Collating witness statements, that sort of thing.’

‘Which witnesses?’ Billy asked as he looked up from his workstation. Anjli ignored him, gathering the sheets and then walking over to Bullman.

‘Whenever you’re ready?’ she said, ignoring both Billy and Frost, but feeling their eyes boring into her back. ‘There’s a bit too much Judas in this office for my liking.’ She glanced back at the printer, as if concerned that she’d missed a page. Billy seemed to flinch a little at the insult, but kept quiet as Anjli and Bullman, without saying another word, left the offices once more.

The moment they were gone, however, Billy rose from his chair and walked over to the printer.

‘Does it bother you?’ Frost asked. ‘The Judas thing?’

‘Not really,’ Billy replied as he clicked his way through the menu on the printer’s screen. ‘In fact, every time she says it now, I see it as a kind of call to action, you know?’

The printer spat out pages, and Billy picked up the first one, reading it.

‘The thing about Anjli Kapoor is that she’s a bit of a Luddite,’ he explained. ‘She doesn’t understand that actions have consequences. For example, when you print across the network, the printer keeps the last file in memory.’

‘So you see what she’s printed?’ Frost waved for Billy to bring it over. ‘What is it?’

‘I dunno, sir,’ Billy admitted. ‘I mean, how do the police notes for Donna Baker’s death help the Monroe investigation?’

Frost read through the first page as Billy passed him the rest of the printouts; it was indeed the case files for the investigation of Donna Baker’s suicide.

‘It doesn’t,’ he said, looking at the door where moments earlier Anjli and Bullman had left with copies. ‘Excellent work. We can nip this in the bud before it goes too far.’

Placing the papers to the desk, Frost picked up his phone, dialling a number that he seemed to know by heart.

‘It’s me,’ he said when it answered. ‘We have another problem.’

Billy walked back to his desk, smiling at Frost’s compliment. Now, back at his workstation, he carried on with what he’d been doing before the two women had arrived. On his screen was the Wikipedia page for Brompton Cemetery. Scrolling down, he couldn’t help hearing Frost’s conversation.

‘You know who they’re going to speak to. You should shut her down before she can talk to them.’

Billy typed on his keyboard; Frost, finishing the call, looked over, only to see that Billy was still searching through websites.

‘You can online shop later,’ he joked. Billy smiled, looking over.

‘Still trying to work out what FOB C means,’ he said, ‘I can’t find anything connected to Declan, so I’m going through Kendis’ online

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