The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1133 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The rest of the day went more or less as planned, but it was after dinner before I had a chance to load the photos and examine them. I was poring over them when Trish came in. “What ya doin’, Mummy?”

“Looking at these photos, there’s something wrong here, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

She gave the photo a cursory glance and asked, “Why is that stone back to front?”

“What d’you mean?” I asked in clarification. I was aware that one had been moved but I presumed that was during the assault. As the police had examined the area, surely they wouldn’t have missed it, or maybe even caused it, moving the stone then putting it down incorrectly.

“The edge is on the wrong side, see, compared to all the others.” She pointed this out with her finger, then skipped off to annoy one of the others. I hadn’t noticed, the stone was practically rectangular, but there was a distinct line on the edge which was nearest the pond, and the displaced stone was, as Trish had said, the wrong way round.

I didn’t know if it was important or not. I blew up the picture and the water edge had a distinct green tinge to it, whereas the side away from the pool was reddish. I thought my colour vision was pretty good–I’m good at matching clothes or materials and wall paper, that sort of thing–so why hadn’t I seen it? Senility–yeah, possibly brought on by lack of sleep.

I went to check on the cause of my disturbed nights. Mima was playing with her in her cot. Of all the girls, Mima is probably the most maternal–at least at this stage of their development. She does far more for both the babies, Puddin’ and tiny wee. Trish seemed to lose interest after she discovered she wouldn’t be able to breast feed until she actually had breasts, although she still liked to watch me feeding the baby.

I got them all to bed and was thinking of turning in after I fed the baby, when there was a ring at the bell. It was nearly ten o’clock and I wasn’t at all sure about opening the door.

The door is pretty solid, made of oak and several inches thick, so there is no lens to look through, you just have to open it and see who’s there. I engaged the chain and peeped round the edge of the door hoping someone didn’t throw acid in my face or stab me.

“It’s me, Inspector Old.”

“D’you know what time it is?”

“I do, and I apologise, but I’d like a quick word if you don’t mind.”

I let him in and as I did so the baby woke up. I picked her out and told him if he wanted a drink he’d have to make it. I led him through to the kitchen and he seemed quite happy making a pot of tea. I sat down opened my bra and attached the sucking device–to wit, one infant. His eyes nearly came out on stalks.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was wrong this morning?” he said handing me a mug of tea.

“Wrong about what?”

“You–you’re a real woman aren’t you? No man could do that, not the way you’re doing it.”

“If he grew boobs he could.”

“I doubt it–anyway, I’m sorry I got it wrong.”

“It’s irrelevant, now why did you come to see me?”

“To show you these.” He spread out a row of very good photographs of the fishpond, including one with Edwards’ body lying face down in it. It was most unpleasant. “Notice anything?” he asked.

I changed breasts for the human vacuum cleaner, “What am I looking for?”

“Oh, Sherlock, you do disappoint.”

I looked with renewed enthusiasm and finally spotted it. “The stone hasn’t been moved.”

“Exactly, you kept on about the stone, so I got the SOCO pix and when I looked, it hadn’t been moved and I checked with the investigation team, they hadn’t moved it, so somebody had.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“I wasn’t accusing you, Lady Cameron.”

“Call me Cathy, I only use the title to get better tables in restaurants.”

“I’m Tobias, but prefer Toby.”

“I’ll bet you went to a private school, didn’t you?”

“Don’t tell anyone, but yes, I went to Winchester College. I suppose you went somewhere like Cheltenham Ladies College?”

“No, just Bristol Grammar School.”

“Well you’re a real tribute to them.”

“Never mind the flattery, what about this ‘ere stone?”

“What about it? I found out about an hour ago that we hadn’t moved it. I wondered if you fancied taking a look before it gets any later?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“Doesn’t Martina get fed up with your strange office hours?”

“It’s why she left me.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Oh I told her about the gluten, and she’s superstitious enough to believe you.”

“How’s the shoulder?”

“Much better, thank you–how did you do that?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Maybe not.”

“We’re looking for a colour blind murderer.”

“How d’you know?”

“Look at the colour of the stone's edge. It is definitely green, and the other edge is reddish. They’ve been laid with great care.” I pointed to the picture on my computer, “That one is back to front, the red colour is nearest the water.”

“So it is–your reputation is redeemed, Sherlock.”

“It was my daughter, Trish, who spotted it.”

“A chip off the old block, eh? Like mother like daughter.”

“Perhaps,” I chose not to elaborate.

After changing and burping the baby, I put her down and asked Stella, who was watching telly in her room, to keep an eye on my wain. I told her I was popping out with a copper.

“Just watch he’s not into rough stuff, because Simon will bend him into all sorts of unimaginable shapes if another one of them lays a finger on you.”

“I think this one is safe enough, and is probably more frightened of me than I am of him.”

“Good God, sensible plod–an unusual bod.”

“Before you run out of rhymes, I have to go, I’d like to get to bed tonight.”

“With the copper?”

“No–don’t be silly. Having said that he’s quite tasty.”

“You jammy sod.”

“Found another rhyme then?” I laughed and shut the door just before the soft toy hit it.

I pulled on a fleece jacket, as the evening was getting cooler, and grabbed my handbag and camera and also my powerful little LED torch. Then a few minutes later I was being driven away by Toby Old in his Saab.

“Tell me, what happened to the Southsea dinosaur?” I asked my chauffeur.

“It was burned down, possibly by students–senseless vandalism–seems to be what boys get up to after they’ve had a few drinks. If it was up to me, I raise the age for alcohol to fifty and bring back national service.”

“If they did the former, you’d have a long wait for a drink.”

“Cathy, I couldn’t care if I never had another drop–it causes so much trouble in the world, we’d be better off without it.”

“I quite agree, but I never thought I’d hear a policeman say so.”

“Ah, but I’m a slightly unusual copper.”

“Is that the great British understatement?” I asked as we pulled up outside Mr Edwards house.