Fatal Frost by Henry James

house, everyone’s away, and she knows where the jewels are. And she’ll be halfway to Gretna Green with some hippie by now.’ He slipped the girl’s school photo into his pocket and looked back at the house; the mother, an attractive redhead, was visible behind the net curtains.
    ‘Neat theory,’ said Waters. ‘Just two little problems. For a start, she just doesn’t seem to be that kind of girl – at least not if the mother’s to be believed. And secondly, that body found this morning fits her description perfectly.’
    Simms took this in and realized Waters was right. He’d foolishly conjured up some Bonnie-and-Clyde-style fantasy when all the time the most likely explanation was staring them in the face. ‘I guess we’d better notify Frost, then.’
    ‘Back to Eagle Lane?’ Waters asked.
    Simms glanced at his watch. Nearly five o’clock. ‘The super’ll be expecting a progress report. But what do you say we grab a pint first, for Dutch courage?’
    ‘They’re not open for another hour.’
    Simms turned the ignition. ‘You’re not in the big city now, Sarge. The Eagle’s a coppers’ boozer. It’s always open.’
    ‘Well, Sergeant Waters, how did you find your first day?’
    In an effort to make him feel welcome, Mullett casually slid his pack of Senior Service towards DS Waters, at the same time scrutinizing him closely. These chaps, he mused, can’t really make out what they’re thinking. Dress sense seems a little awry – denim flares? Why do officers working undercover seem to think it gives them a licence to dress like Al Pacino? Simms was little better, sitting there with slicked-back hair and a scruffy leather jacket like an extra from
Grease
. The lad was barely recognizable from the moon-faced youth in uniform last year.
    Waters gave an account of the house break-in and the missing girl.
    ‘So, in all likelihood, it’s the same girl.’ Mullett grimaced at the sweet teenager smiling up at him from the desk. ‘I needn’t remind you the Hartley-Joneses are friends of mine – but the matter will now be handed over to Frost’ – Mullett picked the photo off his desk – ‘and I will be pointing this out to him, too, should he ever turn up. Anything else?’ He forced a smile.
    ‘We also took an armed-robbery call on the Southern Housing Estate,’ Simms chipped in.
    ‘Is this at the newsagent’s? I overheard Wells blathering on some nonsense about it and told him I wanted Frost on this – what’s all this about midgets?’
    ‘The shopkeeper was a little overwrought,’ suggested Waters. ‘It was probably just kids.’
    ‘With a firearm? In Denton? I think it unlikely. We’ve never had a case of children with guns out here. This isn’t the East End, Sergeant.’
    ‘We’ve never had an armed midget, for that matter,’ said Simms, grinning.
    ‘This is not a laughing matter, DC Simms.’ Mullett scowled. ‘Still, if they are indeed midgets, they should be easy to catch – I can’t say I’ve ever seen one in Denton. The gypsy site, perhaps? No, knives are the weapon of choice for Denton’s young delinquents.’ He got up from his chair to adjust the blinds and shield the officers’ eyes from the evening sun’s glare. ‘Well, Sergeant Waters – it seems your partner here has shown you many sides of Denton thus far.’
    ‘Thank you, sir,’ Simms said, blinking.
    ‘Has anyone checked on DC Clarke?’ Mullett asked. Both shook their heads. ‘Lives alone, doesn’t she? Simms, would you be good enough to check the girl’s all right? She discharged herself, but I imagine it must have been quite a shock to the system.’ He could see Simms about to protest but cut him short. ‘Heavens, man, it’ll only take you five minutes.’ And with that he slapped both hands on the desk to indicate the end of the debrief. Both men made for the door.
    ‘Oh, Waters,’ Mullett called after them. ‘Is your accommodation all right?’
    ‘Not checked in yet, sir.’
    ‘It’s