Free The Shut Eye by Belinda Bauer Page B

that would have choked a carthorse.
    Marvel felt more cultured just holding a cup and saucer. More sensible. Older.
    Closer to death.
    Sandra sat down in the wing chair opposite and looked expectant. It reminded Marvel that there was no such thing as free cake.
    ‘Any news?’ she said – as if he would have kept it from her if he had found Muttley already.
    No, not Muttley. Mindy.
    Not Mindy.
    Something
like
Mindy.
    Morky.
    No.
    Marty, Mandy, Monkey, Mopsy. Shit, he’d forgotten the name of the bloody thing now.
    He shook his head. ‘Not yet, I’m afraid. But it’s early days.’
    ‘Mitzi’s been gone for five weeks,’ said Sandra a little reproachfully.
    ‘Early days for the official investigation,’ soothed Marvel. He took out his notebook and wrote MITZI in big letters on the first blank page so that he wouldn’t forget it again. Then Sandra told him everything she’d done to try to find the dog since she’d disappeared in the park. She’d printed photos and flyers and bumper stickers; she’d got her grandson to upload Mitzi’s picture to the internet; she’d put cards in newsagents’ windows, and offered a reward.
    ‘Reward?’
    ‘A thousand pounds,’ she nodded. ‘No questions asked.’
    Marvel tutted. ‘We don’t encourage that,’ he said. ‘In fact, we don’t approve of it at all. I’m surprised the super allowed it.’
    ‘You don’t approve of offering a reward?’
    ‘Saying “no questions asked”,’ said Marvel. ‘It confuses the investigation and could be seen as an obstruction of justice.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘How many calls have you had about Mitzi since putting up the cards?’
    ‘Oh, lots. Everyone wants to help.’
    ‘A thousand quid buys a lot of so-called help,’ said Marvel. ‘Especially when there are no questions asked. If the dog was nicked, then the criminals feel safer about bringing it back for the reward because they reckon you won’t be calling the police, you see?’
    Sandra got all flustered at that and Marvel put up a hand to wave the issue away. ‘What’s done is done. We’ll let it go.’
    ‘Thank you
very
much, Chief Inspector,’ she said.
    ‘No problem,’ said Marvel magnanimously. He filed it away though, for future reference. It was minor, but minor things could become major things – especially for people in positions of responsibility. Like police superintendents. What kind of police officer wouldn’t ask questions? It would be a dereliction of duty not to ask questions!
    ‘Now,’ he said seriously, ‘I understand you’ve consulted a psychic?’
    ‘Oh yes,’ said Sandra. ‘He’s been very helpful too.’
    ‘Has he found Mitzi?’
    ‘Well, no. Not yet.’
    ‘Then he hasn’t been that helpful, has he?’ said Marvel.
    ‘Well, he
has
,’ said Sandra, a little defensively. ‘He’s told me not to give up hope and that Mitzi will be home soon.’
    ‘And how has that been helpful?’
    ‘Well,’ she said again, ‘it’s given me hope, you see?’
    ‘I’m sure it has,’ agreed Marvel. ‘But what if it’s false hope?’
    Sandra Clyde’s face crumpled. ‘You mean Mitzi might be dead?’
    ‘No, no, no!’ Shit, he didn’t want her crying! He didn’t want to make the super’s wife cry. How in hell was
that
going to help his chance of promotion?
    ‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ said Marvel. ‘Not at all. I only mean that if somebody is desperate, like you are, to find …’ he glanced at his notebook, ‘… Mitzi. Sometimes that hope – that
completely valid
hope – can be abused by an unscrupulous person.’
    ‘Oh, he’s not unscrupulous, Chief Inspector! I was very careful. He’s not some fly-by-night. He’s even helped the police on a case! That’s how I knew his name. Richard’s been on TV and everything.’
    ‘Richard Latham?’ said Marvel with a heavy heart.
    ‘Yes,’ nodded Sandra Clyde eagerly. ‘Do you know him?’
    ‘Not personally,’ said Marvel. ‘But I worked on the Edie Evans