Page 74 of Not That Impossible

I was tempted. I hadn’t actually eaten anything at the coffee shop and my blood sugar was dropping rapidly.

“I’m going to make this quick,” I said.“Stop the presses, I have an exclusive!”

I’d always wanted to say that.

“About what?” Ralph said suspiciously. “If it’s another article about bees, Jasper, I’m sorry, but people aren’t that interested.”

“It’s…no. People should be interested in bees, by the way, but no. It’s about the Sycamore Close case!”

Ralph’s eyes widened and he sat up sharply. “You know who did it?”

“Uh, no?”

You know the victim’s name?”

“No?”

“You got Underwood to give up the goods?”

“No.”

“You sweet-talked Nash into giving up the goods?”

“What?No. Why would you even think that?”

“I heard about you bribing him with doughnuts. Rookie mistake. Bribes happen in private.” He winked.

“What? I wasn’t bribing him, it was Happy Wednesday—Tuesday! It was a Happy Tuesday treat. And who on earth told you about that?”

He tapped his nose. “Sources, kid.”

Ralph liked to pretend he had a network of informants, but this was Chipping Fairford. Once again: the discovery of the body in Ray’s house was the most exciting thing to have happened since a battle in the 1300s. So. Seven centuries.

“What sources?” I said.

“Facebook. Hotbed of gossip. If you actually looked at it once in a while, you might be able to write stories people are interested in reading.”

“Right. Well, I wasn’t bribing Detective Chief Inspector Liam Nash with doughnuts, or with anything else.” I ignored the way Ralph sat back in his chair and tucked his arms behind his head, grinning wide. IknewI said Liam’s name weirdly, okay? “That was me being friendly.”

“Cultivating connections, huh?”

I glared at him. “Yes.”

Ralph sat up. He leaned his elbows on his desktop and looked over the top of his bifocals. “What have you got? And sit down. You make me nervous when you loom about like that.”

“Sorry.” I grabbed the chair from behind the spare desk, wheeled it over, and sat down. I put my knees together and drew my arms in, hunching a little. “I just came from an interview. With eyewitnesses.”

Ralph looked thoughtful. “Ah. The handymen?”

“Yep. Craig Henderson and Kev Wallis of Henderson’s Handymen.”

“No Job Too Small,” Ralph finished absently. He rubbed his jaw. “Could work. Strickland already contacted Henderson. She couldn’t track down the other one, though. Left a few messages, but by then the piece was up on the website.”

“Kev Wallis. I know him from the gym. He spoke to me. I got an interview with both of them. Pictures, too.”

He nodded, looking impressed. “Pictures. Good thinking.”

I didn’t tell him it was Craig’s idea.

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