Sarah Hardcastle was already there, and had chosen the perfect table for Grace and the buggy, with some shade and a place for Grace that wouldn’t impede anyone’s progress. Hall smiled at her thoughtfulness, even before he noticed the pot of tea waiting for him. They spent five minutes discussing the possibility of persuading the police to open the Burke file to Hall again, even though they both knew that they were wasting their breath. ‘So that’s it, is it?’ said Hall. ‘Without access to the files there’s not much we can do. Bugger all, in fact. We’ve got a few more of the original witnesses left to talk to, and Ray is on with that today, but I’m not hopeful. The ones he spoke to yesterday couldn’t remember what happened last week, most of them, let alone over twenty years ago.’ Sarah Hardcastle nodded sadly, and was about to reply when she heard her phone ringing. It took her a few seconds to find it and Hall watched, amused. She was such a well-organised person that it seemed odd somehow, to see her flustered like that.
