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Photography Lab

FSS Lambeth

The rhythmic whir of the printer filled the otherwise silent room. Kate watched the glossy paper slowly begin to emerge, her head naturally matching the 4/4 time of the printer’s movement as the nozzles moved back and forth...back and forth... Ordinarily, printing up these proofs and studying them, large cup of coffee in-hand, was Kate’s idea of a constructive afternoon, but today was not one of those days. Blame it on the subject matter, or the unseasonable warmth of the day, but Kate wanted nothing more than to be out of the lab, out of the building, and exploring the crime scene itself. That desire would have been met with anything but eagerness and encouragement if she’d voiced it, however, so when the interim head of the department emerged for his daily five minutes to look around, he told her to print and peruse as usual, then disappeared back into his office cave. Kate shook her head

The printer moved out the final sheet, and silence descended. Kate just stood still for a minute, almost afraid to move and disturb the peace of the moment. Her mind, however, was full of noise, and the stillness of the lab was helping her thoughts to organize into a single loud thought...

Whose camera lens WAS that?

She glanced up at the wall. 12:30... perfect! Kate said to herself as she picked up the phone and dialed. I can bribe him with lunch...

*****

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Prêt à Manger

14-24 Caxton Street

“YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?” Owens asked, carefully enunciating so as not to spew chicken sandwich out as he did.

“I want you to find someone for me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know yet. That’s what you need to find out.”

“Come again?”

Kate sighed. “I need you to trace the serial number on a camera lens.”

“The one from the crime scene? How do I do that?”

“Well... you need to... get into the file system for the manufacturer.”

He should have known the minute Kate phoned that some type of mischief was up... There always was with her. A man with more of an ego, or more of an agenda, would have likely been upset by the young American woman’s penchant for recruiting him when she needed to accomplish something... Lucky for Owens, and his nearly-sated stomach, he was neither egotistical nor calculating. He had to admit, though, it was flattering that she valued his skill, even if she needed it for less than above-board reasons... and didn’t want Sergeant Pierce to know. That relationship is interesting... thought Owens as he listened to Kate tell him yet again what she was looking for. Pierce had always been polite to everyone, but reluctant to let people in too close. Though he claimed that it was only a friendship, a position which Kate also maintained, Owens perceptive instincts told him there was more to it than that, and even they didn’t know it yet. Based on the whispers he was hearing, he wasn’t the only one who thought so either.

Owens swallowed hard, the bite of sandwich nearly going the wrong way. He sputtered for a moment, quickly grabbing the bottled water in front of him and sipping carefully.

“You okay?”

Owens nodded, his voice slightly strained as he replied. “Yes. Fine.” He frowned. “Why can’t you simply phone the company and request the information?”

Kate’s lips were tightly pressed together as she shook her head. “Takes them too long, if they even let you have it in the end.” She took a sip of her coffee, watching as Owens consumed the last bite of what had been a rather large sandwich. She sighed. “Thing is, we need to know now, because if we can find the person who purchased it from the manufacture, we may find our documentarian and film of the crime scene... even...” She trailed off, leaving the unspoken words floating between them. Owens knew what she was driving at... If photographic evidence existed, it could show them exactly what happened, helping them close the case quickly and accurately. Certainly, a better conclusion for the families involved.

“Well,” Owens began, wiping his mouth carefully on a napkin before continuing. “If what we’re tracking is a serial number, it may be simple enough to find without doing anything—”

“Naughty?”

“Illegal.” Owens took a sip of water, his brow creasing in a thoughtful frown. “You have the number for the manufacturer?”

“Uh... yeah, hang on.” Kate quickly pulled out her mobile, skimming through her phone book. She noticed Owens’ questioning look, and smiled. “I had to order a lens from them once, so I saved the number just in case...” She winked at him. “I can’t be expected to remember everything, right?”

Seconds later, she turned the mobile around so Owens could see the screen. He quickly typed the number in on his mobile to call. He opened his notebook and clicked his pen, the tip hovering over the paper waiting for the information to write. As he navigated through the automated system, pressing a number here, saying a “yes” or “no” there, Owens wondered if he was every going to get the opportunity to talk to a human. Finally, the line forwarded him to customer service and a heavily accented voice came on the line.

“Good afternoon, my name is Tahir, how can I be of assistance to you today?”

“Yes, well...” Owens chuckled lightly, trying to ignore the look on Kate’s face as he began his little charade. “I was hoping you could give me some information. My girlfriend recently purchased a 60mm camera lens at a shop here in London. I have the serial number and everything from on the lens. I was wondering if I could find out where she might have bought it in London.” There was silence on the other end for what felt like a long moment.

“You could simply ask her, sir.”

“Well, yes,” Owens replied, lowering his voice. “You see, I can’t... for a very good reason. You see, she’s in France on business, and she’s due back tomorrow, and I’ve accidentally broken the lens. So, if I could find out where this lens was purchased, I can run over there and get a new one before she comes back and absolutely murders me. I mean, you know how women can get, right?”

Owens saw Kate’s eyebrow arch up at that last bit, but he tried to stay focused on the man on the other line, and whether he was buying the story.

“I see. I understand. One moment.”

The line was silent for one minute, then another, and Owens was beginning to wonder if the man had cut the conversation off completely, deliberately or otherwise, when Tahir came back on the line, his voice lower and strangely not as accented as before.

“Sir? If you could provide me with the numbers on the lens. This would have been purchased in London?”

“Yes, as far as I know.” Owens proceeded to read the manufacturer number and lot number to Tahir, then listened to them again as Tahir read them back to him to double-check accuracy. He wondered how long it was going to take to get the information, but Tahir was back in less than a minute.

“Sir? Based on the lot number, the lens was purchased at the One-Stop Camera Shop in Camden. According to our database... They are still in stock, and you should have no trouble picking up a lens there from the same lot. Would you like me to place an order for it, and you could pick it up this afternoon?”

“Um, no, that’s quite alright.” Owens replied, eager now to exit the conversation. “Thank you so much, Tahir.” He quickly hung up and turned to Kate, a rather smug smile spreading across his face. “The One-Stop Camera Shop in Camden.”

Kate shook her head slowly. “You are something else. Okay, so, it’s off to Camden Town we go.” She took a final gulp of her coffee and headed for the exit.

“We?” Owens muttered to himself as he grabbed his bottle of water and hurried after her.

*****

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One-Stop Camera Shop, Camden Town

THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Kate and Owens walked into the small camera shop. For such a small place, Kate was shocked by the diversity and caliber of the equipment. This humble little hole-in-the-wall was selling some very high-end merchandise, and she couldn’t help wondering how the owner was able to afford the level of insurance coverage he or she would need to carry for this place, and this inventory.

It was busy, too, for a camera shop. Kate spotted a pair of obvious tourists comparing “disposable” cameras, but the bulk of the people in there were obviously local, quite young, and could best be described, based on appearance, as “bohemian”. In fact, she was pretty sure she hadn’t seen so many dew rags and beads since she’d gone to see the revival of Hair on Broadway. She chuckled to herself... perhaps the owner was simply handling camera inventory...

The owner was a she, according to the clerk behind the counter. Owens had made a beeline for him the minute they entered and had already obtained a good bit of information before Kate meandered up that way. The clerk looked at her archly as she arrived, and Kate made a mental note to tell Owens to work on his subtle undercover-type vibe... Work on it a lot.

“So?” Kate waited expectantly as Owens joined her in the telephoto lens area. They had supplied the serial and lot number to the clerk, continuing the illusion that they were there to replace a broken lens, and the clerk, with an irritated huff, had run back to the storeroom to look for the item.

Owens cleared his throat slightly, and kept his voice low as he replied. “The owner’s name is Georgia Bradshaw. She and her ex-husband opened the store two years ago, mostly locals getting their film developed and tourist gathering photo supplies. A year ago, the couple divorced, Georgia got the shop and the inventory started going higher end.”

“She got the shop? How did she manage that?” Owens shrugged in response, and Kate frowned thoughtfully. “She must have bought him out... But how?”

Owens shrugged again. “Don’t know. What are we doing about this camera lens?”

“What about it?” In response, Owens pointed to a similar camera lens boxed on the shelf... and the exorbitant price marked below it. “Oh, that. Yeah. Remind me not to let you go first next time... We’d better get out of here before he comes back.” She glanced back and saw that the clerk was headed back. Kate quickly pulled Owens along behind her, ducking around the end of the shelving. The door was maybe four feet away, but it was open area... the clerk would see them easily. They needed cover, they needed someone to hide behind, they needed...

Just then, the door swung open and a group of wool sweater-clad tourists bundled into the shop. Kate quickly pulled Owens along, both crouched over double, and they slipped around the tourists and out the door before it swung shut.

The pair stayed crouched down until they were clear of the store’s front windows, then scooted quickly along the street, blending into the pedestrian traffic moving along Rathbone Place.

“Now what?” Owens asked when they stopped at the crosswalk.

“Well, you get to go back to work.” Kate began, bouncing up and down trying to ward off the chill air while they waited for the signal to walk. “I’ll go back to Lambeth and see what I can find out about Georgia Bradshaw.” She caught Owens’ glare and quickly added, “I’m not going to do anything illegal... Just an internet search.”

His glare faded... a little. “Good. I’ll run her name through records, see if I can find out anything about the property transfer.”

“You think that’s important?”

“Money always is.”

Kate shrugged. “Okay. Go for it. Let me know if you find anything good.”

Owens nodded, matching strides with her as they crossed the street. “Do you think the clerk was the photographer we’re looking for?”

Kate snorted incredulously. “Him? He barely knew what he was looking at in there. No, he wasn’t the one. But the lens came from that shop, and whoever purchased it had to have gotten it recently.” She suddenly stopped short of the curb. Owens went on ahead several steps before he realized Kate had stopped cold. The light was changing as he ran back, grabbing her hand and pulling her off the road.

“Christ! What’s the matter? You could have been killed!” Owens was genuinely concerned, too, not just because he’d grown to like the quirky American spitfire, but because he didn’t want to be responsible for telling Sergeant Pierce what happened to her, and why he didn’t stop it. He briefly flashed back to the whole Neville Crane fiasco, and recalled the brief, but icy chill that had descended between he and Pierce in the weeks prior to the inquest. Though Pierce swore differently, Owens believed he blamed him in some way for Kate’s being taken by Crane and ultimately injured. Truth was, he blamed himself...

“Paul? Hello?” Kate was looking at him with concern. ‘Dude, we have to go back to the store. Now.”

“Now?”

“Right now!”

Owens didn’t have time to ask further question as he ran to catch up with her. They dashed across the street, weaving through the stopped traffic and reaching the camera shop in record time.

The bell on the door jingled as they entered, and the clerk looked up, his smile fading to annoyance when he recognized them. “Came back for your lens, eh?”

Kate marched up to the counter, Owens steps behind. “Nope, but thanks. We’re from Scotland Yard. Well, he is.” She jerked her head toward Owens for emphasis. “I’m from Forensics. We need information.”

The clerk’s look of annoyance became even more pronounced. “Really? Do tell.”

Kate visibly stiffened at his flip remark, and Owens had a feeling of dread wash over him as he saw a smile spread across her face. Oh, good God... He watched as she leaned on the counter, bringing herself closer to the clerk, and she looked up at him, a smile on her face... though her words were not smiling.

“Listen, you pompous little snot... Two cops are dead, and one critical injured... you see that thing in Acton? Yeah, well, a camera lens was found at the scene... a camera lens from this store... so the DC and I are going to ask you a couple of questions... I think it would be best to give solid, truthful answers, don’t you?”

The clerk had the grace to look sincerely meek about it, swallowing hard and muttering apologies for his demeanor, and assurances that he would answer whatever they asked.

“Excellent! Now, we need to know who that lens was purchased by.” She pointed to the paper with the serial number and lot number on it. “We’ll wait while you look.”

“I don’t need to,” the clerk said, his hands shaking slightly as he pushed the paper back toward her. “We haven’t sold any.” Kate started to open her mouth, but the clerk held up a hand. “I mean... we’ve had them for a few weeks, but Georgia just opened the box last week. And I swear, we haven’t sold any. If you don’t believe me, ask the other copper.”

Kate and Owens exchanged a look, then Owens spoke. “What other copper?”

The clerk heaved an irritated sigh. “The one who was in here last week. He came in to speak with Georgia. They talked for... forty minutes at least... in the backroom. I was going back to grab a carton of film for display, and I saw Georgia opening the box of these lenses, and the copper was watching her literally cut it open with a knife. Ask him.”

A copper... Kate swallowed hard. “What did this cop look like?”

“Strawberry blond, light eyes, tall... quite tall... and fit... a bit weathered.” The clerk shrugged. “That’s all I remember.”

Kate saw Owens about to speak, and laid a staying hand on his arm. Owens closed his mouth immediately, the barest of nods acknowledging that he understood. Kate smiled at the clerk. “Thank you so much. We won’t trouble you any longer.” The pair made their exit, not relaxing their pleasant smiles until they were outside and out of sight.

“Oh my God...” groaned Owens. He leaned against the mailbox nearby, his hands raking through his chestnut hair, and down into his scruffy beard. “It had to have been Newcastle. The description he gave... Oh my God! Do you think he knew he was going into an ambush?”

Kate chewed on her bottom lip as she shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, Paul. If Newcastle was at the shop with Georgia Bradshaw before the shooting, and no lens was sold, then she either gave it to him, or...”

Owens stopped rubbing his beard as the import of Kate’s unspoken words sunk in. “Or Georgia Bradshaw is our witness.” Kate nodded slowly in response, and Owens let out a big whoosh of an exhalation. “Oh Christ, this isn’t good. Can I tell you something? And you can’t say a word to anyone, not even Sergeant Pierce.”

“Of course. My lips are sealed.”

Owens nodded. “Good. It’s about Corbett. About a month ago, I was in the canteen grabbing dinner, and Corbett was at a table nearby. He was on his mobile talking to someone, a girlfriend I gathered based on what he was saying... and he called her “Gia”. Now, it could have been her full name, or...”

“It could have been short... for Georgia. Oh boy...” It was Kate’s turn to run her fingers through her hair, grabbing the messy bun in the back in a fist and pulling it slightly. “So, that means that not only is Ms. Bradshaw our potential witness, but she may also be a common link between the two shooting victims who are now dead.”

“I have a very bad feeling about this. All of this.”

“Me, too, Paul. But right now, we have one priority...” Kate met Owens’ questioning gaze as she continued. “We need to find her fast, before someone else does.”