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MIT was a hive of activity. Chalkie, Liz and the team were on their way back from North Wales. He’d pulled the plug, in light of the day’s developments. The job’s mobile began to ring and wobbled its way towards the edge of his desk. He watched it for several seconds then picked it up.
“Boss, it’s Devon. Sorry, we’re not back yet but we got sidetracked. I’ll explain fully later but we’re in Sefton Park, the car park, Mossley Hill Drive and Greenbank. There’s something you might want to take a look at.”
“What is it Devon, it’s been a long day?”
“Me and Ikky came across a couple of bobbies giving CPR to a woman they’d dragged out of a car that was parked up. We stopped to help them out. Paramedics have confirmed she’s dead and I’ve asked them to stay ‘til you get here. We went through her stuff, naturally. Nothing untoward until Ikky started reading her diary. Seems she’s been having an affair with another woman. Today’s entry is interesting though. It says ‘Helen. Sefton Park. Can’t wait.’ Underneath she’s written,‘15 Granarth Close 11 am’.”