What She Saw Read Online Free PDF

Therewas a gap in the plastic, where the casing for the battery and SIM card had buckled away from the main body of the phone.
    â€˜The casing’s useless,’ said Southall, ‘but I may be able to do something with the SIM card. I’m not promising, but I’ve seen worse than this and pulled info from the SIM.’
    Rosen was silenced by wild hope.
    â€˜Well, say something,’ said Southall.
    â€˜It’s a Nokia C2-01, manufactured in early 2010 and on the market that autumn.’
    â€˜How do you know that?’ Southall sounded impressed.
    â€˜It’s one of the phones Thomas Glass took with him when he walked out of his family home. It’s the cheapest of the three phones, the one that mattered least if it got lost because it didn’t cost as much as his iPhone and BlackBerry.’
    If they wanted him to burn to death in the back of a car, why did they leave him with his mobile phone?
Rosen asked himself.
He could have called for help
.
    Bellwood came back, pocketing her phone.
    â€˜Anything?’ asked Rosen.
    â€˜Three Meganes reported taken without the owner’s permission from the day before Thomas Glass went missing, one of them with the licence plate MC561 KAD. The other two are still missing.’
    â€˜Where from?’
    â€˜Forest Ridge Drive, off Croydon Road, just on the edge of outer London.’
    Rosen nodded. ‘That puts the stolen car within five miles of the Glasses’ house.’ He turned to Southall. ‘How long do you think you’ll be with the SIM?’
    â€˜Depends,’ she said. ‘Be as quick as I can, but it mightn’t be good news.’
    â€˜Thanks, Meryl,’ said Rosen. ‘The sooner the better.’
    She nodded. Rosen and Bellwood walked away. Then, Rosenstopped and turned. ‘Meryl, do me a favour?’ he said. ‘Drop everything, do that phone and nothing else? Please?’
    â€˜It’s a king-sized pain in the arse. But all right.’
    â€˜Thanks, Meryl, you’re a star.’

10
    5.30 A.M.
    A t five-thirty in the morning, Rosen arrived home with the intention of grabbing a few hours’ sleep. When he entered the hall, he heard the sound of the television playing in the living room and caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror. Just over nine hours earlier, he’d left the house looking reasonably dressed; now, he looked like he’d been on a drinking binge: his shirt was out on the left, top three buttons undone, tie skewed to the right and knotted way below his collarbone. When he’d become a policeman, it was the first chance he’d had to afford or wear decent clothes. But he had the knack of making the smartest threads look like charity shop rejects.
    His wife, Sarah, walked out from the kitchen. ‘David?’
    â€˜Hi, Sarah.’
    She kissed him on the cheek and turned on the wall light. The smile crashed from her face. He had worked for eighteen of the previous twenty-four hours and it showed.
    â€˜You look exhausted. Here.’
    She took the small Tupperware box from him, the one she’d sent him out with the previous morning. Rice salad, the fourth week of the diet she’d insisted he go on.
    â€˜How’s the baby?’ he asked, his hope that Joe would be awake disappearing fast.
    Sarah pushed him gently into the living room, where he flopped onto the nearest armchair. There wasn’t a piece of him that didn’t ache.
    â€˜He had a
slightly
high temperature last night—’ started Sarah.
    â€˜He’s got a temperature?’ Rosen sat up, anxious, his instinct to go to his son sharp.
    â€˜Just before eleven last night, he woke up crying. I had to strip him off and sponge him down. . .’
    â€˜Meningitis?’
    Sarah laughed, ‘God, you’re so dramatic, David. No, it’s teething. You know, those little white things we chew with?’
    â€˜OK, OK, I take your point.’ Rosen felt himself