33
Before the morning briefing had even got going, Jack Culverhouse’s pounding headache was made momentarily worse by the ringing of his desk phone. He was already two bodies short, with Wendy Knight and Ryan Mackenzie up in the East Midlands speaking to Callum Woods, and he didn’t feel in any fit state to be getting further depressed by the team’s lack of progress.
‘Culverhouse,’ he barked into the phone, his throat raw.
It was the desk sergeant. ‘There’s a woman here to see you about the Tanya Henderson case. A Chloe Robinson. She says you met her at the hospital yesterday.’
He vaguely remembered the name. A nurse, he thought.
‘I’ll be right down.’
He groaned something at Frank Vine about suspending the morning briefing, then made his way down the corridor before taking the three f
