It was stolen, almost certain to be abandoned now, but you could never tell. He elected not to report the break-in to Dainty, deciding instead to do some investigation of his own first. This was his daughter’s home, after all.The flat had two bedrooms; one unfurnished that smelled of fresh paint and plaster. Surprisingly, he thought, Maureen’s room was clean, with the Queen-sized bed made. He pulled back the duvet cover and confirmed only one side had been slept in.Sweaters, jeans, socks, lay folded on open Formica shelves that took up most of one wall. In a fitted cupboard, he found a selection of silk blouses, mostly white, and expensive-looking jackets hanging on cedar coat-hangers. A dozen pairs of shoes sat in formation on the floor. Again, expensive-looking.One thing continued to trouble him. Maureen had a computer. But other than a plug in a socket close to the bed, the flat seemed devoid of all things electrical.“Maybe she has a laptop and has it with her,” Nance said.“Maybe.”
