Yarrow had just wound up the briefing and returned to his office to write up his notes when the telephone on his desk rang. ‘DI Yarrow?’ he answered.
‘DI Yarrow, this is Martin Benson from the fingerprint section at the Forensic Science Laboratory. In Wetherby.’
‘Yes, Martin, you have a result for me?’ he asked, his heart suddenly pounding in anticipation.
‘Yes sir, we have a positive identification, the print on that shotgun shell belongs to a Frank Arthur Starling, he has an extensive record which you can obtain from your HQ.’
‘Thank you Martin, that is fantastic news.’
‘Anytime. sir, just hope you catch the bastard soon. That poor little girl, I can’t get over that, so innocent…’
‘Thank you again,’ Yarrow said, wanting to end the conversation and get on with the investigation but
