As soon as they’d arrived at the gray concrete building, Mrs. Lazenby had signed in at the door, thanked Constable Dodd for his help, and led the way back through a maze of narrow corridors and cubicles to a small office with a window that looked over the car park. She hadn’t taken Belladonna into the office, though. She’d just smiled and directed her to a seat on a row of plastic chairs that had probably once been colorful but were now rather grimy and depressing. Mrs. Lazenby had gone into her office, removed her coat, sat at her desk, and picked up the phone. Since then, there had been a great deal of to-ing and fro-ing, all of which Belladonna had been able to see through the large glass window in one wall. One woman had come with a fat folder, which Belladonna assumed was her file. Mrs. Lazenby had looked at this, then made several phone calls, none of which appeared to have been answered. Then another woman had arrived, smiled briefly at Belladonna, then gone in and talked with Mrs.
