Doyle stood in front of the two-way mirror of the local police station, watching Bodie and the little girl at the table in the interrogation room. They had a block of paper and a tub of crayons and were drawing pictures while carrying on a silent but animated conversation.

Cowley joined him and watched for a moment, then shook his head. "If I didn't see it, I wouldn't believe it."

"I don't know," said Doyle thoughtfully. "Remember that nurse with the hand grenade down her blouse?* I didn't even think about her torn shirt but Bodie tied it together to cover her up. And Susan Grant,** I thought she was just looking for attention. Bodie was the compassionate one there."

"Aye." Cowley nodded. "And that poor addict he spent all day in hospital with.*** Maybe it's not so strange he could reach a frightened little girl. He's a hard man, but I've seen how even the toughest and most ruthless can have a soft spot. I wonder where he picked up sign language?" Cowley tapped the glass and Bodie looked up, then signed to the child. She nodded, and a moment later he came out.

"I haven't been able to get her to talk about the murder, sir," said Bodie. "She's told me her name, Beth Robinson, and a lot about her father, but nothing about today."

"What about school?" asked Doyle. "Maybe a teacher…"

Bodie shook his head. "She has home education. Her father belongs to a club for parents of deaf children, so she has a lot of friends, but she hasn't been out of the house for the past week. She said her father was working on something important, so important he didn't have time for her lessons. He said it was a holiday, but she didn't believe him because when they took school holidays, it would only be for a day and they always went somewhere like the park or the zoo." He watched the girl for a moment, then asked, "What's going to happen to her, sir?"

"We're trying to get in touch with her aunt, Sarah Robinson, but she's traveling in the States. It may be some time before we can speak to her." Cowley pursed his lips. "I suppose in the meantime she can go into foster care."

"I don't think that's a good idea," said Bodie flatly. "She's completely traumatized."

"There are foster parents trained to deal with such children," said Cowley acidly. "I'm not going to put her with someone who can't help her."

"Could they keep her safe?" asked Bodie. "That little girl is the only witness to her father's murder. The killer might come after her."

Doyle exchanged a look with Cowley, then asked, "What do you think should happen?"

"I can take her to a safe house." Bodie tried to sound casual. "She already trusts me, she's more likely to tell me about what happened than some stranger." His eyes darkened. "And if anybody comes calling, I can protect her."

"What do you know about taking care of a little girl?" Doyle was incredulous at his partner's suggestion.

"How hard can it be? When she's hungry I'll feed her, and as long as she brushes her teeth, she should be all right."

"I think there's more to child care than that," said Cowley.

"I can handle it, sir."

Doyle saw something in Bodie's eyes that prompted him to say, "I'll go with you, mate. Between the two of us we ought to be able to manage." His partner looked so grateful that Doyle felt his throat tighten, then they both turned to Cowley.

"Oh, very well," said their superior irritably. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to try." His voice rose. "Just make sure if you can't take care of her you call in a woman. And don't let her play in the street!"

*Old Dog with New Tricks

**Cry Wolf

***Private Madness, Public Danger