Yarrow got up from his desk and was about to walk to the CID room for the briefing when Superintendent Trevor Bullock burst into his office.
‘We’ve got the bugger, Chris, by God we’ve got him,’ he said excitedly, and for a moment or two Yarrow thought he was talking about Frederick Hazlett who was very much on his mind.
‘Sir? Who?’
‘Blundell, Albert bloody Blundell, that’s who. Guilty on all charges, I’ve just had a call from a mate of mine who’s been following the case for the Sheffield Star. Seems he thought that Blundell might get away with it, that it might go either way, but the closing argument by the prosecution by…?’ Bullock reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. ‘Aye, that’s it, the prosecution lawyer, Jonathon Tudor-Fiennes, what kind of a name is that
