Steeled

"Will one of you get that, I'm busy!" Joan Preswitt called out from the kitchen. She was in the midst of preparing dinner and one of the kids should be able to do such a simple task around the house. She heard her daughter say "Hello, Hello…..hello." and that was all. She called out to the girl "who was that dear?"

"I don't know momma, they didn't answer me".

"Ok dear, they probably didn't think we were at home." "Why don't you wash your hands and help me by setting the table?"

As they got the table set, she couldn't help but wonder. While it was not totally unusual for someone to hang up, the timing seemed curious. Jim Strange had told her that he had passed along her phone number a couple of days before. Maybe it was wishful thinking that he would call, but then again, maybe not.

Later at the Police Station

"Can you spare me a minute?"

Superintendent Strange could see that Morse had reverted to his habit of pulling on his ear lobe. That had been his trademark when they worked together at Cowley Station a decade or more before. Now, like then, it was a sure indicator that something was bothering him. More than likely it wasn't a police matter. If it wasn't than Strange had a good idea what it might be.

"Certainly, I have nothing else to do but be at your beck and call." "Come in and shut the door." "Make it quick I've got serious work to do".

Morse shut the door and set down in one of the two chairs in front of Strange's desk.

"Well?"

"That piece of paper I forgot to get at the restaurant….."

Strange wasn't going to make it easy for his old friend. He was going to have to come out and say what was on his mind. Otherwise what would be the point?

"You see, I've tried to ring the number several times."

"So, what's the problem?"

"you see, I can't reach the person"

"And why not?"

"Because sometimes no one answers, and other times a child answers." "Now I know some people would say that's perfect, but I'd rather not talk to a child."

Strange leaned his immense frame back in his chair. Placing both of his beefy hands in front of him he steepled his fingers and looking over the peak of them fixed Morse firmly in his gaze.

"Morse, you are allegedly a Detective Inspector, one with a reasonably good track record. I seem to remember years ago you were trying to find this same person – with far less to go on I might add.

"That was different!"

"Morse the only thing different is you have lost your nerve!" "Are you afraid of a couple of children?" "Or is it a husband you have never seen and will never see!"

"Now pull yourself together!" "Get out of here I've work to do!"

For a moment Morse stared at his friend and realizing the interview was over, levered himself out of the chair. His friend was scribbling on a sheet of paper, so he took his cue and left.

Perhaps there was a way.