After getting Francis Clegg to sign his statement, the inspector retreated back up to the third floor. Joe was sitting at his desk, drinking a mug of coffee, while WPC Hall was perched on the edge of a nearby desk, munching happily on a banana. Since returning from Heathrow, each of them had maintained an exaggerated air of innocence; just as if butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Carlyle put the statement on his desk and eyed his sergeant carefully. ‘So he sold her?’ Hall quickly swallowed the last of her banana, dropping the skin into the cardboard box on the floor that served as a makeshift bin. ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘He just kind of passed her on to one of his mates.’ ‘As one does,’ Joe said, looking sick. ‘Do we believe him?’ Carlyle asked. ‘I think so.’ Joe brightened. ‘Once Maude had a little word with him, he rather quickly decided to lose his attitude and tell us what was going on.’ Blushing, Hall looked at the floor. ‘The Krav Manga worked a treat,’ Joe smirked.
