It was an internal call, the duty sergeant informing her that somebody by the name of Charlie…. ‘I know the name,’ she interrupted, ‘tell her I’ll be right down.’ The size of the woman waiting in reception came as a shock. She was larger than the person Alex remembered passing in reception the previous day, not that she’d paid much attention. As wide as she was tall, the thought larger than life came into mind. ‘Charlotte?’ Alex asked her, just to be sure. ‘You’re the detective who’s been leaving messages on my answer phone then?’ The woman replied in a friendly manner, extending her hand. ‘Please, call me Charlie.’ Her face was broad and flat with rosy cheeks and eyes that came alive when she spoke. She had a strong Irish accent, Northern Ireland, Alex thought. She found herself wondering if she’d grown up there at the height of the troubles. Wondered if that was why she’d moved over here. ‘Look,’ said Alex, suddenly feeling hungry, ‘There’s a café round the corner, can I buy you a coffee?
