‘Who?’
‘Leanne. She’s a bit hostile and stand-offish, but I get why she’s got that hard shell. Living and working in secret all the time. I suppose you build a wall cos you’re not really a part of any team.’
‘You like her?’ Stacey asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘Nah, nothing like that. She scares me, but it does make you grateful for the team you’ve got.’
‘Aww… thanks, Penn, cos I’m assuming you mean me.’
‘Yeah, course I mean you, Stace,’ he said, smirking. He turned back to his computer. ‘But bloody hell, this is a nightmare.’
‘Wassup, homey?’ she asked, printing off the second set of phone records. Every time she did it, she thought about the trees; but some things didn’t compute in her brain unless she could see them in black and white.
‘This bloody van.’
‘Go on,’ she said, reaching for the printout. She switched her screen back to the real-time investigation in Somerset.
‘What about it?’
‘I thought I had a lead on that van, until one guy remembered it was his brother-in-law bringing in some breakfast sandwiches and a coffee.’
‘So you can definitely rule that one out,’ Stacey said, looking for a bright side to his predicament.
‘Yep, only another forty-nine to go,’ he said miserably.
‘You know what I’d do?’ Stacey asked.
‘Resign and take up whittling?’
‘Not my first choice. I’d just run them all again, even the ones you’ve got explanations for.’
‘Why? I’ve already run the ones unaccounted for through the DVLA, so why would I run the ones I’ve ruled out as being there on legitimate business?’ he asked, looking at his full list of vehicles that had entered the trading estate.
‘Because people make mistakes, like matey boy who’d forgotten about his breakfast delivery. For example, how many white Transit vans you got on your list?’
‘Altogether, fifty-three,’ he said doing a quick count.
‘How many are confirmed as being there on business?’
‘Forty-one.’
‘So you’re telling me that forty-one small businesses were able to confirm the registration numbers of the white Transit van that visited them. In full?’
She could see that the mist of despair was clearing in his mind.
‘You dow think that even one of those people was too busy to talk to you and decided to just confirm the third or fourth one you threw at them to get yer off the phone?’
‘You know, Stace, you might just have—’
He stopped speaking and began tapping as her phone began to ring.
‘DC Wood,’ she answered, wondering for the hundredth time how it would sound replacing the C with an S.
‘Hi, it’s Percy.’
Stacey opened her mouth to seek more information, but he was good enough to help her out.
‘Percy Poole from Ridgepoint.’