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untidy, paused briefly at small and shabby before ending up at pokey and damp.
Dented and chipped steel filing cabinets ringed the walls, making the room
even smaller than it was. There was barely enough space for a desk, let alone
three chairs.
 How long has the NCD been in these offices, sir?
 Since they started the division. Why?
 No reason. It just seems a bit& well,close. 
 I like it, replied Jack mildly, taking a telephone from one of the filing
cabinet drawers.  We have a room next door as well, but Gretel and the filing
take up most of that. It s generally okay, as long as we don t all want to
walk around at the same time.
 Gretel?
 She s a specialist in forensic accountancy, but she helps us out when we re
short-staffed, so we consider her one of ours. You ll like her. She s good
with numbers and speaks binary.
 Is that important?
 Actually, it is. Constable Ashley generally understands everything we say,
but complex issues are best explained to him in his mother tongue.
 Ashley s a Rambosian?
 Yes, first ever in uniform.
There was a pause.
 Do you have any problems with aliens, Mary?
 Never met one, she replied simply.  I take people as I find them. What s
that smell?
 Boiled cabbage. The canteen kitchens are next door. Don t worry; by the
third year, you ll barely smell it.
 Hmm, murmured Mary, looking disdainfully around the small room and the
piles of untidy case notes.  I might have an issue with the window.
 What window?
 That s the issue.
At that moment a cloud of cold germs loosely held together in the shape of a
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human being walked in through the door. This, guessed Mary, was another part
of the NCD. She was right.
 Good morning, sir, said the sickly-looking individual. He took a sniff from
a Vick s nasal spray and dabbed his red nose with a handkerchief.
 Good morning, Baker, replied Jack.  Cold no better?
Baker s coldnever got better. A semidripping nose seemed to be a permanent
fixture since a bout of flu eight years earlier. He wore a scarf even when it
was quite warm, and his skin seemed pale and waxy. Despite looking as if he
had barely three weeks before a terminal illness mercifully carried him away,
he was actually extremely fit he passed his annual medical with flying colors
and completed the Reading Marathon every June in a creditable time.
 This is Charlie Baker, the station hypochondriac. I call him the office
terrier. I give him a problem to solve and he won t let go until it s done.
He s also convinced he has only a month to live, so he doesn t mind going
through the door first on a raid.
 How do you do? said Mary, shaking his hand.
 Not terribly well, replied Baker.  The dizzy spells have got worse
recently, I have a rash on my scrotum, and a twinge in the knee might be the
onset of gout. He showed her his forearm.
 Does this look swollen to you?
 Have you seen Ashley or Gretel? asked Jack, trying to change the subject
before hereally got started.
 Ashley s burning some spinning wheels that were handed in as part of that
amnesty thing, said Baker as he squeezed a few drops of Visine into his eyes
and blinked rapidly,  and Gretel is having the morning off I think she s being
checked for Orzechowski s syndrome, a curious disease that plays havoc with
the central nervous system and causes rapid movements of hands, feet and
eyes incurable, you know.
Jack and Mary stared at him, and he shrugged.
 Or maybe she s just waiting in for a plumber.
 Right. Mary, call St. Cerebellum s and get the name of Humpty s doctor, and,
Baker, dig up some background info on Humpty we should know what he s been up
to and if he has a record. I ll be back in half an hour, and I take my coffee
white with one sugar.
Jack picked up the evidence bag that contained the shotgun and walked out the
door.
The Nursery Crime Division, it seemed, didn t generate many headlines the
framed news clippings that hung on the wall were just short, faded sections of
newsprint culled from the few papers that carried the stories. There were
clippings about Bluebeard s arrest, Giorgio Porgia, the notorious crime boss,
and several others, going back over four decades. Uniquely, there was one
regarding the Gingerbreadman from the front page ofThe Toad , but since it
described Jack as  Chymes s assistant, Mary could understand why it was the
least prominent.
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 I figured you were a coffee person, said a voice. Mary turned to find the
young constable she had seen earlier at Grimm s Road doing house-to-house.
They had spoken, but only about work. She didn t even know his name.
 Thank you, replied Mary, taking the coffee gratefully and waving a hand at
the press cuttings.  What do you know about all this?
 Before I was even born, replied Tibbit,  but according to Gretel, the
Giorgio Porgia collar was more DI Spratt s than Chymes s. The Super got funny
about it when things got dirty. No one gives a damn about the nurseries as
long as they kill one another. Porgia made the mistake of taking outreal
people. The Guv nor had all the evidence, but Chymes closed the case and got
the credit.
 No wonder Jack doesn t like him.
 It goes back further than that. He doesn t talk about it much.
Mary s mobile started ringing. She dug it out of her pocket and looked at the
Caller ID.Arnoldagain.
 This is a guy namedArnold , said Mary, handing the still-ringing phone to
Tibbit.  Can you tell him I m dead?
Tibbit frowned doubtfully but took the phone and pressed the answer button
anyway.
 Hello,Arnold ? he said.  PC Tibbit here. I m afraid to tell you that DS
Mary has been killed in an accident. He winced as he said it, and there was a
pause as he listened to whatArnold had to say.  Yes, itwas very tragic and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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