Free Abominations by P. S. Power

Bethany.
      “Detective Westmorland, have you eaten since this morning?” she asked, not able to think of another topic.
      The other woman looked at her, not quite blankly.
      “No,” she said, without inflection.
      Doctor Schmidt didn't wait, requesting food for her to be brought immediately. When he came back in he glared at the other two men, who had the good grace to look slightly sheepish about not having made sure she ate.
      The bald man who had come in with the detectives stepped forward and introduced himself.
      “Miss Farris. I'm Warren Peals, chief Constabulary Detective. Our Westmorland detective informed us earlier of an unusual idea you had and we wondered if you could elaborate on it for us?” He held his hat in his hands, shifting it nervously, but he didn't look away from her.
      Gwen couldn't think of anything that might seem unusual though.
      “Sorry? I don't...” Her eyes darted to Bethany, hoping she might clue her in. Nothing of course, since her eyes simply looked at the wall, processing endless streams of interior data no doubt.
      The bald man, Peals, went on.
      “You suggested we contact geologists, in order to find the likely quarry that the granite slabs came from? How would that work, exactly?” He looked interested.
      Her mouth formed a silent “oh”.
      “OK. I see now. Well, granite, all rock really, is more like the other rocks from where it came from than rock from any other place, even the same basic type of stone is slightly different. The composition, trace elements and all that. An expert should be able to tell if all the tables came from the same general area or several. If it's from one area and maybe even if not, they might be able to tell what part of the world it came from and maybe what specific quarry, even without matching it to the site itself. If that location can be found, cuts of rock that could be turned into those tables should be traceable, though that depends on what kind of invoices and shipment records were kept along the way, but it could lead to the retailer, or retailers, if there are any. There are about a dozen places this could fall apart, but even knowing if they came from one location or several could help. Potentially at least.”
      During this, Mr. Vernor turned and stared at her. He didn't look angry, just baffled that his daughter's body was saying these apparently strange things. Still, wasn't it common sense? Just things that the police here, the Constabulary, would probably have thought of on their own given a little time?
      The chief nodded.
      “How many geologists do you suggest we contact for this?” His eyes had never left her face, though he didn't try to intimidate her at all, he simply seemed like he didn't want to miss anything she said. Maybe he was interested in the whole “woman from another world” thing? That seemed likely. A person from another reality did seem kind of cool, even if it was just her.
      She thought about it for a second.
      “I'd get three. If two agree, without consulting with each other, then you probably have the right answer. If all three do, that's even more telling. Of course, if there's only one available, then that would have to do. I don't know how hard this information will be to come by, this may be anywhere from incredibly basic to impossible here. Back home we'd already have the information online. I just... I don't know what resources you have here as to data collection.” Then she had to explain what computers were, and what online meant, which took some time, not having a common language for the ideas. These people, it turned out, didn't even have basic calculators. They used slide rules still, or paper and pencil.
      Before they left, both of the Vernors came over to her to say goodbye and told her to let them know if she ever needed