He knocked on the door and it was opened at once. Before he knew it, he’d almost come out with his thought—“So you’re the pretty one,” but he managed to check the words before he’d said them and he only asked, “Does Vicky Stanford live here?” Chris said, “Yes,” and stood looking at him. “She’s at home? Could I see her? Police.” He showed her his card. “She’s out,” Chris said. “Know where she’s gone to, by any chance?” Price asked. “She’s having coffee with. . . with a friend.” “Would that be Stephen Rawlinson?” He was amused to see her surprise. Show her that her sister and the boy-friend weren’t the only ones with second sight. “How did you know?” Chris asked, not liking it. “They came round to see us in the Criminal Investigation Department on Sunday with some information about a case I’m working on. There are one or two things I’d like to ask them about. We’ve had some further evidence we think they might be able to help us with.”
