“Dawn Ellis and Bev Yates had returned to the ground-floor day room at Chuzzlewit House, answering Faraday’s summons for a meet and an update. A WPC, meanwhile, was stopping with Mrs Bassam until word came from the mortuary that Helen’s body was ready for the formal ID. ‘“The first venture, on a path already filled with cool pale radiance …”’ Faraday paused, checking the final phrase ‘“… was a flower who told me her name.”’ Yates and Ellis exchanged glances. Yates had never had much time for poe...try. Flowers with the gift of speech didn’t figure much in the pages of Jet-Ski Monthly. Faraday turned the photo over and studied the face again. ‘You say the mother gave you a number?’ ‘It’s a mobile, boss.’ It was Ellis. ‘Turned off last time we tried. His name’s Niamat according to her. He’s Afghan. She thinks he’s got a bedsit or something in St Ronan’s Road.’ ‘She’s met him?’ ‘Yes. The last time was around Christmas. Apparently he turned up at the house with some flowers he wanted to give her but she sent him packing.’ ‘She doesn’t like flowers?’ ‘She doesn’t like him.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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