Human Remains

leaning against the door, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. The Friday afternoon look, except it was Friday evening and he should have been at home by now.
    ‘Alright,’ I said. ‘Thanks for asking. I just wanted to get back to being busy, I think.’
    ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Well, it’s good to see you.’ He gave me a warm smile and turned to go. ‘Don’t stay too late, will you?’
    ‘Sir,’ I said, ‘can you hold on a minute?’
    He turned in the doorway and, although he smiled and said ‘Sure!’ again, his posture said he’d had enough and wanted to go home. But dutifully he leaned over and looked at my spreadsheet. I explained that the similarities between the billings for Rachelle Hudson’s phone and the other five linked them – and that the rest seemed unlikely to be part of the group of victims.
    ‘Unless there was another phone that they were using, which either wasn’t found, or was removed before the bodies were discovered,’ I said. ‘But, even so, their call patterns varied and some of them were receiving calls from more than one number – friends and family, I suppose – until a few weeks before they were found. So I think we can rule them out.’
    Paul Moscrop pointed at something on the screen. ‘What’s that?’
    ‘The list of numbers used to contact Rachelle and the others. A different one for each of them.’
    ‘But the pattern’s the same?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Very interesting. Have you requested billings for these numbers – the ones that are calling the victims?’
    ‘No, sir. I’ve never done the requests myself before. But we need to get them urgently, I think.’
    ‘Right,’ he said. He took his mobile phone out of his trouser pocket and dialled a number. To me, he said, ‘Can you put all that in an email to me, or something?’
    ‘I’m doing a report – ’ I started to say.
    ‘Keith? You still on the station? … Can you? That would be good. I need you to come up to the MIR when you get here, there’s been a development… No, nothing like that. I need you to sort out some more phone billings – can you do that?’
    There was a pause. Presumably Keith, whoever he was, was not quite so keen on turning out again for a ‘development’ that involved filling in online forms.
    ‘I wouldn’t be ringing you if it wasn’t important. And you are on call.’ The DCI’s tone had taken on a distinct chill. Finally, ‘Thanks. Can you ring me when it’s done? Cheers. Have a good weekend. Bye.’
    He disconnected the call and looked at the handset, shaking his head slightly, distracted. Then he looked back at me.
    ‘Keith should be here in ten minutes or so. He’s on call, so don’t let him bloody complain about it, right? Tell him what needs doing and get him to email them to me for authorisation. With a bit of luck we should get the billings back quite quickly. Make sure he does them on Priority. Is that OK?’
    ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Any idea how long before they come back?’
    ‘Depends on the service provider – hopefully less than twenty-four hours. Maybe quicker than that. How do you feel about a bit of overtime this weekend?’
    ‘That would be great.’
    ‘Are you sure you’re alright doing this, Annabel? You’ve had a tough few weeks.’
    ‘I know. I need to stay busy. But thank you.’
    He was hovering. I sensed his sudden awkwardness, waited for whatever was going to come next.
    ‘They interviewed you, didn’t they?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘You’ve not remembered anything else? About what happened?’
    ‘I’ve been trying not to think about it, sir. I know that’s not very helpful.’
    ‘It’s alright. It’s not about being helpful. I just didn’t want you to think you can’t come and talk to us, you know. If you think of anything else.’
    What did he think I was going to do, suddenly recall everything the angel said to me and then keep it to myself, just for a laugh? I shook my head.
    He made sure I had his mobile number and then he went, leaving me in the big silent office on my own waiting for Keith. I went back to the report.

Colin
     
     
    The
Chronicle
’s campaign continues. Three weeks ago, there was a brief paragraph in their usual proselytisation about a woman who had been found in a ‘state of distress’ and taken to hospital. Mr Sam Everett used his column to put out an appeal asking for anyone who knew the person responsible to make contact with him. Responsible for what, exactly? Helping people escape from