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an equal part of the team. My old boss would tell me to listen and learn in interviews. I was very much a junior partner. Gus is happy for us to chip in if we spot a weakness in someone’s replies and can help him prise out that nugget of information.”

“I hope I’ve shown you this morning that the Hub can sift through far more sand for that gold nugget than is possible from a series of interviews.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Divya,” said Blessing. “The search routines that are the Hub’s bread-and-butter are more than helpful when trying to identify a burglar or a rapist who’s in the system. Unless we’re mistaken, then these submariners won’t have a criminal record. After we collate the data from those photos, I’ll return to the office, and Gus Freeman will ask Luke to set up meetings. When he speaks to someone like Keith Smith, Gus will know his friends called him Smudger. He’ll know that Smudger was in the Valley of the Kings on December the sixteenth of 1999. If you were Keith Smith, would you try to hide anything from someone who seems to know everything?”

“Maybe you’re right,” said Divya. “I’ll see you in half an hour, Blessing. Enjoy your lunch.”

Blessing sat in her Micra and opened her lunchbox. How was she ever going to lose weight if Jackie Ferris gave her such delicious food? Blessing grabbed her phone and checked the message from Luke.

Blessing learned that Gus and Luke had returned from their meeting with Davinia Campbell-Drake. That sounded like a fun discussion. The farmer’s wife lied about where she was and what she saw on the night of the murder. Yesterday, they had highlighted the mystery man, who may or may not have come from Eastern Europe, as a person of interest. Today, he had moved to the top of the list. When Divya returned, they should make the search for this man their priority. The submariners could wait.

  CHAPTER 10

Blessing called Dave Smith to catch up. His shift pattern didn’t make life easy organising their next date. Dave’s phone went to voicemail, and Blessing had to leave a message.

“Only me. Are you free this weekend? Miss you. Bye.”

Blessing looked at the only item remaining in her lunchbox—the chunky orange Kit-Kat. There was something all kinds of wrong about that bar of chocolate. It was as wrong as someone deciding a blue banana was a great idea.

Divya tapped on the window. Time to return to the fray.

“Did you enjoy your sandwich?” asked Blessing as they headed up the steps to the door.

“I try to eat healthily,” said Divya. “It might do me good, but I never feel full.”

“Are you allowed chocolate?” asked Blessing.

“It’s a sin,” wailed Divya.

Blessing retrieved the Kit-Kat from her bag. She’d brought it with her to throw in the bin.

“If you’re desperate for a chocolate fix,” she said.

“Wow! Are you sure?” said Divya.

“Positive,” said Blessing.

Seconds later, at least the wrapper ended up where Blessing had intended.

“By the way,” said Blessing. “Luke wants us to concentrate on identifying the mystery man in the ninth photo. Gus needs to know where and when our victim took that photo and the identity of that man.”

The two women spent the rest of the afternoon analysing the nine photographs. When Blessing left the Hub at five o’clock, she hoped she had everything that Gus needed.

“Thanks for your help,” said Blessing hugging Divya.

“We aim to please,” said Divya. “Try to convince your boss that we’re a force for good. I’m sure his superiors keep telling him we’re here for his benefit.”

“I’ll try,” said Blessing. “Can you remind me; do I turn right when I leave the car park?”

Divya studied her phone.

“Take the A361 and A360 to Court Hill in Potterne,” she said.

“Thanks, Divya. I know my way from there.”

Divya walked to her car and watched Blessing edge her Nissan Micra into the heavy traffic.

Whatever this case that Blessing’s team was working on, it had just taken a strange turn. Divya wondered how far they could pursue it.

Gus Freeman didn’t pass Blessing Umeh on London Road as they both made their way home after a busy day. He’d spent the afternoon trying to fathom why Bunny Campbell-Drake had felt it necessary to lie to the police. He and Luke had updated their versions of the Freeman Files and brought the others up to date with the morning’s events.

“How does this case feel to you, guv?” asked Neil.

“If you’re asking that question, you must have an opinion you want to share, Neil,” said Gus. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“We have learned nothing in the past forty-eight hours that has brought us closer to identifying the killer, guv,” said Neil. “Despite having carried out dozens of interviews, we’ve turned up the same scrap of information from several sources.”

“If we used your jigsaw analogy, guv,” said Alex, “we’ve found half a dozen pieces that fit together to complete a tiny portion of the entire picture.”

“When you finish the jigsaw, you realise how insignificant the section you took hours to puzzle out proved,” said Lydia.

“You think I wasted time this morning by interviewing Davinia Campbell-Crake?” asked Gus. “She lied to the police. Phil Banks could have sewn this case up within a week if he had known what she witnessed.”

“I can’t argue with that, guv,” said Neil, “but Tilly Spiers, Val Huggins, and Greg Meakin had already confirmed that the man in Biddestone in the days before the murder, and the mystery man in that photo, were the same.”

“Blessing could have concentrated on that photo from first thing this morning,” said Lydia. “It’s the only one that matters. The others are just holiday snaps, aren’t they?”

Gus wondered whether Suzie’s announcement last night had prevented

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