Read A Killing Frost for Free Online Page A

not be necessary.’ He pulled a computer printout from his overall pocket. ‘That baby powder is a brand-new line. We didn’t put it on the shelves until all stock of the old line had gone. It went on display late on Sunday, just before closing time. A box of twenty-four. I’ve checked and there are twenty-three left - only one has been sold, and that must be the adulterated one.’
       ‘So how does that help us?’ asked Frost.
       Martin took over. He could see what the assistant manager was getting at. ‘We can check the printed receipts. When it goes through the check-out, the product is registered. If the customer paid by credit card we can easily get their name and address from the credit-card company.’
       ‘That could take flaming ages,’ said Frost. ‘“If you have lost your credit card, press 8; if you want to trace a customer with contaminated baby milk, press 9.” Get on to it right away.’
       ‘We’re checking late-night-Sunday till receipts now,’ the assistant manager told him. ‘If our luck’s in we’ll get to the customer before the tin is opened.’
       ‘And if your luck’s out, they could have paid with cash. Make it quick. If you haven’t turned anything up in a quarter of an hour, I’m going to local radio and the rest of the media.’ His stomach rumbled again. ‘Do you do breakfasts at the restaurant here?’ he asked the manager again.
       ‘We do an excellent full English - it’s on special this week.’
       ‘How do I pay for it?’ asked Frost.
       ‘Oh - we take credit cards.’
       Shit, thought Frost, who was hoping the stingy sod would let him have it on the house. ‘Right, I’ll nip over and get something to eat. Tell your assistant where I am.’

    As he crossed the shop floor he could see the staff were doing a thorough job with the search. Everything was being taken off the shelves, examined and put back again.
       In the restaurant, he was just dipping his fried bread in his egg when Taffy Morgan burst in and came running towards him.
       ‘Ah - there you are, Guv.’
       ‘Yes,’ said Frost. ‘I know where I am.’ He took a swig of tea.
       ‘I tried to get you on your mobile, Guv.’
       ‘I keep it switched off,’ said Frost, ‘in case some Welsh git tries, to ring me. Sit down and watch me eat.’ He forked a piece of bacon and surveyed it gloomily. ‘This pig was solid fat.’ Morgan dragged out a chair and sat opposite him. ‘That rape case, Guv, I’ve run through the CCTV tapes from the multi-storey car park. Got a shot of a car roaring off at about the time the girl said. A Ford Focus. It’s got to be our rapist.’
       Frost pushed his unfinished breakfast away and lit up a cigarette. ‘Well done, Taff. About time our flaming luck changed. You got the registration and checked it out?’
       Morgan nodded. ‘Graham Fielding, 29 Castle Road, Denton.’
       ‘Any previous? Has his dick got him into trouble before?’
       ‘No, Guv. Shall I pick him up?’
       Frost dribbled smoke from his nose as he chewed this over, then shook his head. ‘No. Don’t let’s jump the gun. We’ve got nothing on him other than the fact that his car was in the vicinity at the time of the rape. Call on him, Taff, use your Welsh charm, and if that doesn’t put him off, ask if he will give us a DNA sample - Forensic will tell you what to get. Take a paper bag in case they want poo. If it matches, we’ve got the bastard; if not, we can forget him.’
       ‘Supposing he won’t give a DNA sample, Guv?’
       ‘Then reason with him - punch him in the stomach. If that doesn’t work, bring him in. If he’s innocent there’s no reason why he should refuse.’
       As Morgan left, Frost noticed Henry Martin hovering. He didn’t look at all happy. ‘What’s up?’ asked Frost. ‘Have you eaten one of these breakfasts?’
       The manager forced a smile and slid into the chair vacated by Morgan. ‘Mr