Chapter Thirty-SevenSergeant Andrews was pacing the floor when the DCI walked into his office.
“Looks like my habits are rubbing off on you.” Alan threw his coat over a hook on the stand by the door. “I take it the lady hasn't arrived yet?”
“No,” Andrews replied. “Mrs Ann Western is on her way down from Bamburgh.” He looked at his watch. “She might be a little while yet.”
Bamburgh is a small coastal town in North Northumberland, well known for the twelfth-century castle poised high above the town.
“Is there anything you can tell me before she arrives?”
“Mrs Western's husband, who runs his own business, had taken time off to go on some sort of safari. He had told her he would call when he could. By that, he meant when he had a signal, which was why she wasn't unduly worried until the d
