Blood in Grandpont (DI Susan Holden 2)

‘When did you last produce one?’

‘Well,’ he said warily. ‘I suppose that would have been a couple of months ago.’

‘Can I see a copy, please.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘And maybe we could have four coffees, too?’

‘We’re not a branch of Starbucks, you know.’ The arrogance was back in his voice, an arrogance which suggested he felt less threatened now. Maybe, for him, the danger had passed. Publicly available catalogues held no incriminating secrets.

‘Would you rather my sergeant did it? I wouldn’t. Because number one he’s very clumsy, and number two he makes bloody lousy coffee.’

Dominic turned towards his wife who had taken up her guard dog position behind the desk. ‘Sarah, would you mind?’

‘Actually, I’d like to talk to her. Why don’t you make it yourself? Constable Wilson will come and advise you on our milk and sugar requirements.’

For a moment it looked as though he was going to object. Agrunt of disgust emitted from his mouth, and Holden prepared to resist, but his bluster was just that, and he turned and left the room, trailed by Wilson.

Sarah Russell meanwhile had stood up, and had removed a slim publication from the shelves behind her. ‘Here you are!’ She slapped the catalogue down on the desk.

Holden picked it up and passed it to Lawson. She had already given up on it as being of use, but you never knew. In the meantime, she was more interested in Sarah.

‘You must be a very busy woman, Mrs Russell. We come here, and you’re here. Sergeant Fox goes to Cornforth and you’re there. We return here, and lo and behold here you are again.’

‘Dominic is short-handed at the moment.’

‘Yes, I remember you saying that last time we were here. A French-Canadian, wasn’t it? Minette?’

‘You’ve a good memory.’

‘Her parents were visiting, weren’t they?’

‘That’s right.’

‘I’d like to talk to her.’

‘Why?’ Was there was a note of anxiety in her reply?

‘That’s my business.’ Holden was giving nothing away, but something told her Minette was a sensitive spot. ‘Can you give me her address and phone number.’

Sarah did something with her mouth that was half-way between a smile and a scowl. ‘I could. But it may not be much use to you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because at this very moment she’s on a flight back to Quebec.’

This time it was Holden’s turn to be disconcerted. ‘I thought you said her parents were just visiting.’

Sarah Russell smiled her broadest, most self-satisfied smile. ‘I think seeing her parents made her homesick. Suddenly she realized what she was missing in Quebec – families, friends, the French language – so she insisted on going home with them. Rather touching, don’t you think?’

Holden didn’t say what she thought. Instead she turned to Lawson. ‘Have you found anything of interest, Lawson.’ It was a futile question. Lawson would certainly have interrupted if she’d found the painting. Holden knew it, and she knew too that she was running out of options. She could surely track down Minette’s phone number in Quebec and ask her over the phone if she had seen the painting, but it was a long shot. Can the girl really have got homesick just because her parents had visited?

‘Can I make a suggestion, Guv?’

Holden turned to Fox, absurdly pleased at his intervention. God only knew what he was going to suggest, but anything was better than nothing.

‘Have you ever seen the Mona Lisa, Guv?’