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One set seemed to be crossed through. He thought he knew what the book was for and a cold uncertainty crept through him.

Chapter 21

There had been no contact from the general public to identify the image posted of the face identified on three of the group photographs. Smith had forwarded images and the names of his contacts. They were evidence of the number of people who attended the parties held at the apartment on Lord Street. The team was now not interested in the individuals they had identified, more those that were unfamiliar. In particular, they hoped the face seen on the group images could be spotted here. The photographs had been dated, and that helped in separating the varying parties and possibly the different guests. Lynda, from Facial Recognition, was given the task of searching the faces. She relished the thought of finding the proverbial needle in the haystack – a face in a crowd. It took her less than an hour before the results were coming in and new faces were identified. They had contacted Callum Smith and any unknown faces were sent to him for possible identification. Those that he could not identify were sent to the other guests Smith had named. It was going to be a process of elimination. It was soon clear that the identification of a few would prove difficult.

Debbie Sutch was contacted, and so too Bill Rodgers. The final roll of the dice, should they need, would be to seek the co-operation of Gaskell, Briggs and Taylor, all of whom were known to have attended or had been seen at one party or another.

Having the names, and then locating addresses, was solid police craft, now helped and made quicker, more accurate and easier by computers. What would have taken days and many man hours in the past, could now be done quickly and efficiently. They ended up with four unknowns. Each face was also run through facial recognition software to identify any link with past crimes. The human face was fast becoming as accurate a forensic tool as the fingerprint.

Carlos flicked through the thin red book. The initials were clear, CJ, FL, CG, BR and PW. The only names that came to him from the initials were those of Cameron Jennings and possibly Bill Rodgers. He checked the dates next to the names and he recalled seeing both men on dates near their names. One of the other sets of initials must have been the person whose face he saw briefly but failed to recognise when at the police station. FL could well have been the one, as he appeared to have only the one date to his page. A line had been struck through the initials and an indecipherable comment and a zero marked beneath the date. The others seemed to have either 7, 4, 6 or 10 against their visits. This was undeniably Carla’s record of the clients who had called for treatment after hours – her little red book. The dilemma for Carlos Briggs now was, what to do with it.

Skeeter and Steve walked down the drive. She had called the neighbour to check Thomas was in. She received the thumbs up from a hand protruding from behind the curtain before it quickly vanished. Steve carried a hard, grey case. She knocked on the door and looked through the windows like last time. When Trevor saw her, he recognised her immediately. Even so, he opened the door on the security chain.

‘Trevor, this is Steve. He works with the police and he flies the police drone. I thought you might like to see it and have a chat as we were in the area.’

There was an immediate change in demeanour as the door was quickly closed and then opened. They were welcomed inside. The first thirty minutes fascinated both Trevor and Skeeter as Steve went through the drone’s capabilities. It was the latest version and one that the police were trialling. Steve had decided to come around to talking about aerial filming once a rapport had been established. He looked at Trevor’s drone, suggesting ways to improve the image quality using the settings mode on the handset. It was during this conversation that Trevor let his wish slip about having a better zoom facility on his camera. He talked about the incident near the farm he had accidentally witnessed before showing Steve some of the still images.

‘Was that near Downholland, Trevor?’

‘I was there early just flying around. I like to cycle out to different places. I go early to catch the good light. It’s quiet.’ He turned to Skeeter. ‘That’s how I got mixed up with finding that body. Here you see the tractor in the distance. For some reason some emergency services arrived. You can see the flashing blue lights. I was curious but kept the drone away as it’s unlawful to fly near such a situation. I thought someone had had an accident. I brought the drone back and waited. I could see from where I was and within an hour or so, a number of others arrived. I sent the drone out again to photograph and video but when I tried to enlarge the images, they pixilated. If it had been a 4K camera it would have been better and if I’d had that, wow!’

‘Do you know what you were witnessing?’

‘No, unfortunately my batteries were running low so I had to pack up. My drone should fly for thirty minutes but the batteries are getting long in the tooth and they don’t hold the same charge they once did.’

Steve looked at Skeeter. She could see from his expression this man was not the killer. The poor sod had found himself at a murder scene twice by pure coincidence.

I never believed in that, not until today. Let’s hope these things don’t come in threes, she thought as she watched Steve pack away the equipment.

‘Hope you enjoyed that, Trevor. Maybe I could organise for

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