20
Georgie was anxious to do a good job, having been left in charge by her superior, and she sprang to her feet the moment she heard the front door open. So quickly did she react to the noise that she was out of the living room and approaching the front door before either of the constables with her knew what was going on.
William Vine froze in the doorway, his key halfway out of the lock, startled by the stranger he was confronted by. “Who are you?” he demanded, recovering enough to take the key from the lock and step into the house.
“Detective Constable Georgius,” she answered. “Are you William Vine?”
Vine had expected this moment to come sooner or later, had known it was bound to, and been prepared for it. At least he had thought he was prepared for it.
It had been his intention fro
