Surprisingly it was WPC Hewes who moved the case forward. Crombie grunted when she plonked her lunch tray opposite him, it wasn’t done for a junior officer to join a senior’s table, Hewes probably wanted to share some station gossip with him. Instead she started talking shop.
‘Any news on the Stern case Guv?’
Crombie shook his head, trying to decide why he didn’t like the woman. She ate with her mouth open, but many young people seemed lacking in table manners these days. She always presented well, her uniform seemed fresh out the box, tie perfectly knotted, her make-up unobtrusive, just a smear of blue liner and some pinkish lipstick, and though he was pretty certain her hair colour came out of a bottle, no roots ever showed in the blonde bob.
It was her mouth he thought. The way the top lip lifted away from her teeth, and something about her eyes too, narrow and long, darting here and there but giving no insight into her thoughts.
Realising he was staring, Crombie dropped his gaze to his notebook, and mentally ran through his morning’s activities, hoping she'd get the hint and leave.
When she didn't, Crombie excused himself, saying he wanted to catch visiting hours at the hospital, on the off chance young Wren Prenderson could add anything to his cousin's statement.
‘I’ve a couple of free hours Sir, I’ll come with you.’
It seemed churlish to refuse, Hewes didn’t usually volunteer, and Crombie only made the slightest objection.
‘Free hours Hewes?’
‘Well, not free, I’ve got probation reports but I’ll do them at home tonight.’ Standing up as she spoke, whisking both her and Crombie’s tray away, Hewes neatly stacked the dirty plates and returned to his side, straightening the strap on her shoulder bag, indicating her eagerness to be off.
Crombie expressed surprise in her interest as they drove to the hospital.