Challis - 03 - Snapshot by Garry Disher Page B

wore
jeans, a pink long-sleeved top, pink socks, pink clips holding back unruly
blonde hair. Her grandfather looked faintly lost, a slightly built senior
policeman whod seen the underside only from behind a desk. He didnt make
introductions but stood back, saying, Come in, come in, before glancing at
their feet. Would you mind...

    There were shoes and gumboots heaped
on both sides of the door. Challis and Ellen slipped off their shoes, curling
their toes on the cold concrete of the verandah, waiting for McQuarrie to stop
dithering on the doorstep.

    Finally they were in a hallway, pale
green carpet expensively thick beneath their feet, a phone off the hook on an
antique hallstand. McQuarrie led them to a sitting room: a red leather sofa and
armchairs, massive antique sideboards, two small Turkish rugs. A huge window
looked out onto a barbecue pit, a brick courtyard, a rose arbour and shrubs in
bulky terracotta pots. McQuarries wife Barbaraoften called Mrs Superstood
beside an open fire, as neatly put together as her husband but snootier, more
readily offended. Challis tried a commiserative nod and smile and got a scowl
in return. He introduced Ellen, who earned only a flickering glance.

    Have you found out who did this?

    McQuarrie said hastily, Its too
soon, dear. Hal is here for information.

    Barbara McQuarrie came forward a few
centimetres, the strain apparent in her face. I dont want you upsetting
Georgia.

    Some tea, love, we could all do
with a cup of tea.

    Ill help you, Ellen said, expertly
shepherding McQuarries wife out of the room, piling on admiring comments about
the decor, the house, the landscaping. Challis and McQuarrie watched them go,
Challis appreciating her tact and her instincts.

    McQuarrie said, Hal, this is
Georgia. Georgia, this is Inspector Challis.

    Challis put out his hand and the
child shook with him gravely, her palm moist, her bones like a tiny birds
inside his grip. Pleased to meet you.

    Pleased to meet you.

    Challis didnt know what McQuarrie
had said to his granddaughter. Hed hoped to be briefed before meeting and
questioning her. Did Georgia know that her mother was dead? If so, what did
she, a six-year-old, understand that to mean? Perhaps we should all sit down,
he said.

    Grampa, can I have a hot chocolate?

    Of course you can. Run and ask
Nana.

    Relieved, Challis watched her leave
the room, and then turned to McQuarrie. Sir, are you okay with this, my
questioning her?

    I am. My wifes not.

    Does Georgia know her mothers
dead?

    Some of McQuarries brisk
superintendents manner had come back. Yes. Died and gone to heaven.

    Shes remarkably poised.

    Shes incredible. Shes finished
her crying for now. Even so, well see that she gets proper counselling. He
paused. If your questioning upsets her Im putting a halt to it, Hal.

    Sir.

    McQuarrie was the only super in
Challiss experience who expected to be called sir by the more senior of his
officers. Most preferred boss or even first names and affectionate nicknames.
McQuarrie insisted on sir and Challis believed that it was a measure of the
mans insecuritycompounded today by the fact that he was grieving.

    There was the distant ping of a
microwave oven, and moments later Georgia appeared with a mug of hot chocolate,
a frothy moustache on her upper Up. Ellen Destry came in behind her with a
teapot and sugar bowl on a tray, Barbara McQuarrie with plain Ikea mugs and
shortbread biscuits in a bowl, her disapproval obvious. She wanted Challis and
his sergeant out of her house.

    When they were settledGeorgia
perched on her grandfathers kneesChallis glanced at Ellen, who leaned forward
and said, Georgia, we want to catch the bad men who hurt your mother.

    Georgia, small and tawny, shrank
into McQuarries lap, hot chocolate splashing on his tie. I want my dad. Wheres
Daddy?

    Hes on his way, sweetheart, McQuarrie
said, rocking her. His planes already landed.

    What if they shoot him, too?

    Hush, hush, McQuarrie said, out of
his depth.

    Were