have a full forensic p.m., doesnât it? A lot more. Heâs always on about his budget, our DI Crowther,â Guljar said.
She looked up sharply. Some needle there between the two men? But she simply asked, âIsnât everyone budget-crazy these days? It wouldnât hurt to preserve the scene, would it, while he thought about it? I mean, a place like this â you can see how immaculate it is â must be cleaned every day. All the litter disposed of. All the evidence â if evidence there is â would be completely lost. We canât afford that.â
She was rewarded by a grin. âAll the bloody paperwork â if it proves a false alarm, you can bloody come and do it, your next day off.â
âWhatâs one of those? OK, youâre on. If weâre wrong, Iâll type up the whole caboodle for you.â
âWhat are we waiting for, then? Iâll call our CID and their SOCO friends, and make sure nothing is disturbed, nothing thrown away. Thatâll really make the tennis-playing public happy, I donât think.â
âTo say nothing of the coaches like Jason, who donât earn if they donât work,â she added.
âTell you what, Kate,â he said, pulling himself to his feet, âI could wish it had been Josephine Public, not you, whoâd found her. The next few days would have been a lot easier.â
âBut â if weâre right â the ensuing ones would be a hell of a lot worse.â
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At last, leaving him to radio back to his colleagues in Kings Heath, she went out into the foyer, where Jason was still waiting. Heâd brought out her tennis bag, the tracksuit tucked into the handles. Kate dug in her bag for her purse and the lesson fee. When he demurred, she said flatly, âYou managed to get here at seven. Donât tell me you donât deserve the lesson fee for that alone!â
âWell â¦â He took the money, obviously embarrassed. âWhat if you just booked another lesson for later this week â¦â
âNo: Iâd better stick to the usual Tuesday date. Iâve got a nasty suspicion this is going to be a heavy week,â she said. âFor me; for you; and for everyone at the Centre. Once the Press get hold of the fact that a corpse lay undiscovered at Brayfield Centre overnight, theyâre going to want to talk to a lot of people. And my colleagues over there just might, too.â She nodded at the influx of police personnel. âJust to kick off, though, Jason. Were you here last night?â
He shook his head. âI was coaching over in Handsworth.â
âSo youâve got a nice lot of witnesses?â
âAbout twenty â it was a very busy night. Everyone thinking they should be playing Davis Cup tennis! You should see the courts in Wimbledon fortnight!â He smiled shyly: âLook, Iâve organised a cup of hot chocolate for you.â
Not from the machine, either.
âI got them to put in extra sugar. Shock,â he explained, as she raised startled eyes. âYou know, the body.â
She swallowed her remarks about seeing worse sights every day with the first mouthful of chocolate. It was good, and there was no point in offending the person whoâd procured it. In fact, it made a nice change to be treated as a human, who could feel frail in the face of such events.
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Time to go into work. The full back-up team was now on the scene. There was nothing to do except drink her chocolate and go. It was all in other peopleâs hands. Nonetheless, as she left the building she spoke to the woman on Reception: Sylvie, her badge said. âWas it busy here last night?â
Sylvie shook her head. âI wouldnât know.â
âDonât you get to know the regulars?â
âYes, but it was the relief manager on last night. The regular managerâs off sick.â
âSo when will the relief manager be back
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