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Chapter 20

Saturday, midmorning

Day seven

Jon leaned over his little fold-out table and gripped his mobile to his ear. "Still holding. This is Jon Graham. Yes. Tell them I'm ringing from Cornwall." The cold air coming from outside bit into any exposed skin, but he couldn't live in this little box of a home without that window open. A home from home for sure this is, roight! He wondered if he should make another pot of coffee while he waited. A harried sounding woman popped onto the line.

"Records. Cynthia Reed."

"Cynthia, love, has anyone ever told you you have a lovely voice?"

"What do you want, Jon Graham?"

"Now my dearest love, we agreed-no grudges."

"You are such a cheeky bastard."

"Yes, but you can't help but love me, right? So check this for me. I need to know if there are any samples or DNA profiles from these cases." Jon read off the case numbers.

"You do realize it is Saturday morning?"