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.”Marchant swallowed hard.“Good God,” he said, reaching for another drink, then changing his mind.“We’re searching for a connection, Mr.Marchant.Now, you said that your wife would have phoned for help?”“Yes.”“She was in the habit of carrying a mobile phone?”“She took it everywhere.”But where was it now? He didn’t remember seeing one at the scene.And SOCO hadn’t mentioned it.“Where did your wife keep her phone?” he asked.“In her handbag-”“Could you ring the number now?” asked Shand, his excitement rising.There definitely had not been a handbag at the scene.Had the killers taken it with them? Or thrown it in a ditch with the murder weapon? They might be able to get a trace.Marchant looked confused.“You want me to ring my wife’s phone?”“I want to know where your wife’s phone is.”Other possibilities materialised.What if the phone was still in the house? Or in the car? What if Annabel had been abducted that evening too?“Bob,” said Shand, “Go out to the garage and listen.Her phone might be in the car.”Marchant rang as soon as Taylor left.Shand listened, slipping out into the hallway, the house silent, murmured conversation drifting in from outside.He cocked his head.Still no sound.“Is it still ringing?” he asked Marchant.“Yes.”Shand hurried to the front door and shouted over to Taylor, “Anything?”Taylor shook his head.Shand went back inside.They’d be able to get a trace.He was sure of it.Maybe not a pinpoint trace, but to the nearest mast, a few square miles at most.“You can stop now,” said Shand.“Would your wife have left home without her phone?”“I don’t think so,” said Marchant.“I think it would be wise if you let my officers search your house now, Mr.Marchant.”Marchant rose to his feet.“I told you.I’m not having-”“Sir, your wife’s phone is missing.Probably her handbag too.I should imagine that means her keys and credit cards as well.It’s very likely your wife’s killers have been in this house.I need you to check for anything missing and I need access for my men.”Marchant looked torn, part of him looked ready for an argument while another part wanted to check his possessions.“They broke into Helena Benson’s house, sir,” said Shand.Marchant relented.“A limited search, chief inspector.But my study and my computers are out of bounds.Is that clear? My work is market sensitive.And don’t tell me you’ll make sure nothing gets leaked because I won’t believe you.My lawyer will be here shortly.”“Did your wife have a computer?”“I believe she had a laptop.”Shand passed the information along to Taylor and Scene of Crimes.“Find Annabel’s laptop and keep an eye on Marchant,” he said, taking them aside.“He doesn’t take anything off the property without it being checked first.And if you can, take a few photos of his study.Keep him sweet, but keep an eye on him.”The house filled up.Shand and Taylor followed Marchant through the house, checking for missing items or anything that could provide a clue as to why Annabel had left the house on Friday night.They found nothing.No note, no diary entry, no scribbled message on a kitchen calendar.And nothing on the answering machine either.The dishwasher was full, the sink empty.Everything was tidy, nothing to suggest that she’d left in a hurry or that anything had been taken.“I have to ask you this,” said Shand at the end.“But where were you last night?”“At a restaurant,” said Marchant.“Can anyone confirm that?”“I’ll give you their names.” He took out a business card and scribbled three names on the back complete with telephone numbers.“Colleagues from work, chief inspector.We were together until midnight.At Henri’s in Covent Garden.” He turned pointedly to Taylor.“And that’s not in Swindon, sergeant.”“Much obliged, sir,” said Taylor.~Marcus Ashenden was waiting for them outside.He looked pleased with himself.“I’ve discovered who the Athelcott One is, sir.”“Who?” asked Shand.“A chicken.”Shand saw another potential lead evaporate.“A chicken?” he said.“Yes, sir, Bill Acomb’s chicken.He’s being held at a pound near Sturton while the court decides what to do with him.And you’ll never guess who brought the action.”“We already know, Marc,” said Taylor.“The Marchants.Which would make the animal in question a cockerel not a chicken [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]