Partial Sue rocked back and forth in her seat with childlike excitement. “Come on, come on. Spill the beans. Tell us.”
Fiona joined them at the table. “Throughout this, I’ve been trying to channel Jane Tennison.”
“Who?” Daisy asked.
Partial Sue became animated. “You know, played by the great Helen Mirren.”
“Oh, I know,” Daisy grinned. “She’s really funny.”
“Funny?” Fiona questioned.
“Yeah, she gets her jugs out for charity with all those other women.”
Partial Sue groaned. “That’s Calendar Girls. We’re talking about Prime Suspect, DCI Jane Tennison. One of the best TV detectives ever.” Partial Sue leaped out of her seat and scuttled over to the DVDs. Running her finger along the shelf, she alighted on a second-hand copy of the ground-breaking crime drama. She slid it out and returned holding it aloft as if it were the Holy Grail, then placed it in front of Daisy.
Daisy read the back. “‘Detective Chief Inspector Jane Tennison investigates the murder of a young woman found dead in a seedy bedsit while battling to prove herself in a male-dominated world’.”
“It’s a masterclass in police investigation,” Fiona said. “In the face of rampant sexism.”
“She’s our role model,” Partial Sue said. “Watch and learn. That’s the first one, there are seven seasons in total, plus Prime Suspect 1973, when Jane Tennison was a young copper.”
Daisy smiled politely, in the way that most people do when a recommendation is foisted upon them. “Okay. I’ll give it a go, but I’m not promising anything.”
Partial Sue stared at Fiona and lightly tapped the table impatiently. “Come on, you were about to make a revelation.”
“Oh, yes. Throughout this I’ve been thinking, ‘What would Jane Tennison do?’ So when I rang that donation into the till, it made me think of something. Jane Tennison would want a list of every domino set sold in the last six months.”
Partial Sue nodded her head, eager to hear more. “Yep, I bet DI Fincher has done that already.”
“And we know that line of enquiry didn’t work because they haven’t arrested anyone yet.”
“Correct.”
“Shops and online retailers keep a record of every single sale,” Fiona continued. “It’s impossible to buy anything these days without knowing where and when it was purchased. Even our systems log sales, but they only do it generically, under very broad categories: books, clothes, household items, toys and games. The purchase of a domino set from a charity shop wouldn’t show up.”
Partial Sue shook her head. “But I still think it’s Malorie. She’s already got a domino set at the community centre.”
Sensing the debate circling back around to where they were a few moments ago, Fiona quickly nipped it in the bud. “Let’s just assume for a second it’s not Malorie or anyone else at the community centre, for the reasons we just discussed. That line of enquiry is closed to us at the moment so there’s no point going there. Plus, my gut is telling me otherwise. There’s something fishy about it. It feels like a red herring, excuse the pun. I can’t see a smart killer using dominoes from a set where it’s obvious that everyone’s going to notice that two pieces are missing — ones that match those on the bodies. I think we’re being played, misdirected. So let’s just assume it’s someone else. The killer would need to get hold of an untraceable domino set. Best place to do that would be at a charity shop.”
“Couldn’t they just use one they already had at home?” Daisy asked.
“True,” Fiona replied, “but it’d be covered in their DNA, and you really don’t want to leave DNA on the victim’s body, or anything that could identify you.”
“You can get rid of DNA with bleach and UV,” Partial Sue pointed out.
“Nothing’s a hundred per cent,” Fiona said. “There’s still a chance some would be left behind. Why take the risk when you could buy a second-hand, untraceable domino set covered in someone else’s DNA and fingerprints? Much easier and no record of the purchase.”
Partial Sue blew out through her teeth. “But if there’s no record of their purchase, how are we going to track them down?”
Fiona pulled her phone out of her bag and placed it on the table. “We pull in favours and play to our strengths. We call up our fellow charity shops in Southbourne, Bournemouth, Poole and Christchurch. Ask if anyone’s sold a set of dominoes recently.”
“That could take ages,” Partial Sue said.
“Well, then, we’d better get started.”
Daisy raised a hand as if she were in class. “Not to duck out of hard work or anything, but I’m not so great at talking on the phone.”
“How did you get on looking into Sharon Miller?”
“Still working on it.”
“Okay,” Fiona said. “You continue looking. Try to narrow the Sharon Millers down to those who fit the victim profile.”
Daisy stared back at Fiona. “Victim what?”
“Sharons who are older,” Partial Sue clarified. “In their eighties.”
“Sue and I will hit the phones.”
Partial Sue got up and headed for the storeroom. “We’re going to need tea, and lots of it.”
“And cake,” Daisy added.