Page 28 of Already Lost

“Let me go first,” Nate said grumpily. Hereally was overreacting to this whole thing. Laura had been injured a few timesin the line of duty – so what? It had never been really serious. And the onlyreason why it happened was because she cared so much about following hervisions and making sure that no one died. She was cautious most of the rest ofthe time.

Laura let Nate get out of the car with aroll of her eyes and then followed him up to the front door of the small butnicely kept home. There was a neat front yard flowering with rose bushes thatappeared to be well-tended, and when Nate knocked, they heard a woman’s voicemerrily calling out to tell them she’d only be a moment.

The door opened a moment later aspromised, and Laura had to blink. The person who had answered the door was alittle old woman, white-haired but dressed immaculately in matching pinkclothes and with a cheerful smile on her face.

“Hello, dears,” she said. “What can I dofor you?”

“Um, hi,” Laura said, taking over from acompletely startled Nate. “We’re looking for a collector of vintage records.His name is Frank or Frankie Davidson.”

“Francesca,” she said, looking betweenthem expectantly. “Do you have a lead on a record for me?”

Laura blinked. She looked up at Nate, whowas doing the same.

“Sorry,” she said. “Are you MDColl59?”

“That’s right, dear,” she smiledbenevolently. “Now, do you want to come in? I can make you some tea.”

“Sure,” Nate said, though he gave Laura anutterly bewildered look as the woman turned to lead them inside the house.

Laura could only shrug and gesture for himto follow her.

“Now, do you take milk or sugar?” Frankieasked, leading them into a sitting room that was utterly dedicated to records.All four walls were lined, wherever possible, with square shelving units, floorto ceiling. Inside each of those squares were maybe twenty-five or thirtyrecords in their sleeves, and all of them were full.

“Actually, I’d rather talk about therecords,” Laura said, sensing a need for a change in subject before they endedup sitting around eating cake and making small talk. “You’re quite thecollector, it looks like.”

Frankie looked around and nodded with asmall smile of pride. “Yes, I have dedicated an awful lot of time to it,” shesaid with a kind of girlish grin. “I never married or had children, you see.All of the money I earned in my life is mine to spend on myself. And this iswhat I do with it.”

Laura’s head was reeling. She took a seaton a sofa that was covered by a knitted blanket with record shapes sewn intoit, Nate sitting by her as Frankie arranged herself primly in an armchair. Shefelt like she was on the back foot. She’d come here expecting to arrest akiller, and instead found a little old lady who couldn’t possibly be the personthey were looking for.

“You have quite a reputation in thecollecting world,” Nate said cautiously.

Frankie laughed merrily. “Oh, that! Youdidn’t actually believe anything you read online, did you?” She gesturedtowards a computer sitting on a small desk in the corner. “We do have fun. Wemake all the new collectors think I’m some sort of shark so they won’t go afterthe best hauls. We’ve been doing it for years. Occasionally, someone catcheson, and then they become one of us, so to speak.”

“Do you know of anyone who was looking forcopies of a particular record?” Laura asked, deciding to just throw it outthere. “The singer was Nena Flora, and the song was -”

“My Man and the Rose,” Frankie said. Shenodded. At Laura’s sharp look, she gave a movement of dismissal. “I have aphotographic memory, so I remember every record I’ve ever seen. That onedoesn’t appear much, though.”

“Do you have a copy yourself?”

Frankie screwed up her nose and shook herhead. “Heavens, no. What would I do with such a thing? It would just be takingup space.”

“But you posted on the forums asking forinformation about where to get one,” Laura said, frowning.

Frankie paused for a moment, then laughed.“Oh, yes! I remember. Another little one of our forum jokes. It’s funny becausethe record is just worthless. It’s the kind of thing an amateur would go for,just because there aren’t many of them around.”

“That doesn’t make it valuable?” Lauraasked.

“Let me put it this way,” Frankie said,folding her hands in her lap. “There are some books which are not discoveredduring the lifetime of the author, and then later on, they are discovered andbecome incredibly popular. Then, first editions become extremely valuable. Onthe other hand, there are some books which don’t sell well because they aresimply not very good, and those books don’t ever become valuable at all. Theysink into obscurity and no one even recalls the name of the author. A hundredyears later, the book may as well never have been written. It’s the same withart. For every van Gogh, there are perhaps hundreds of painters we’ve neverheard of, because they never had any real talent. And when it comes to records,there are also certain songs which need never have seen the light of day.”

“So, you’ve never heard of a collectoractually genuinely wanting this particular record for their collection?” Nateasked. Laura was still blinking a little, impressed by Frankie’s way with wordsin crafting the analogy.

“I can’t say I have,” Frankie said. Shelooked at Laura with a sort of tilted expression, as though she was lookingover a pair of spectacles – though she wasn’t wearing any. “Would you like sometea, now?”

“I think we’d better keep moving,” Laurasaid with a polite smile. “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind – would it bepossible for us to have a little look around at your collection?”

“To make sure I’m telling the truth, youmean?” Frankie asked. “Dear, I have thousands of records here. Some of them arein picture sleeves. You’re welcome to look, but I would imagine it will takehours.”

Laura nodded. There was such a thing asdoing due diligence – but then there was also such a thing as being realistic.Frankie hadn’t killed anyone. How could she? She was a tiny old lady. Thatdidn’t mean she couldn’t have a co-conspirator, but then again, owning therecord wouldn’t make her a killer, either.

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