‘Nice try,’ said Glenn Branson, as they drove away.
Roy Grace, head down, had the Photos app on his phone open. He tapped out a message and Branson heard the woosh of an email going.
Without responding, his radio on loudspeaker, Grace called Aiden Gilbert in the Sussex Police Digital Forensics Unit.
After a brief while, he heard Gilbert’s ever-enthusiastic voice. ‘Hello, boss, how can I help you?’
‘We have a potentially urgent situation, Aiden, regarding a misper. I’ve just emailed you a photograph of a woman taken early afternoon yesterday. Could you have someone take a look at it and verify the time and date, please?’
‘Sure, boss, we’re pretty inundated but I’ll get someone on it as quickly as I can.’
Grace then rang DC Velvet Wilde, who he’d asked to join his newly formed Outside Enquiry Team.
‘I’ve got two O2 phone numbers — I need a plot of both their movements yesterday, between the hours of 9 a.m. and 6 p.m. How quickly do you think you could get that?’
‘O2 are pretty good — should be able to let you have that within a couple of hours if I let them know it’s an urgent authority.’
‘They’ll need it confirmed in writing.’
‘I’ll sort that, boss.’
Grace thanked her and ended the call.
Glenn Branson turned to him. ‘My, are you the sly one!’
‘Sly?’
‘The way you teased the information about his phone out of Paternoster.’
Grace gave him a knowing glance. ‘I’m a detective, and your tutor. How many chocolate digestives does it take to activate your brain cells — or have they put it into a digesting slumber?’
‘Yeah, yeah, funny! So what else did you pick up from him, Sherlock?’
‘Possible tension between him and his wife. His comment about the fried breakfast?’
‘I got that, too.’
‘Could he be playing away? Or she?’ Grace posited.
‘Possible.’
‘Let’s get the Outside Enquiry Team speaking to the neighbours and friends and see what we can find out about their relationship.’
Branson nodded. ‘Sounded like money could be an issue.’
‘And the cat.’
‘Blaming him for their last one being run over?’
‘So you were awake.’