Read Gift Wrapped for Free Online Page A

already planning to take a cruise for his fiftieth birthday ... we had all the brochures and were poring over them.’
    â€˜I see. I am sorry to hear that.’ Hennessey scribbled on his notepad. ‘That really is quite tragic. It must have been quite a loss to you ... really quite a blow.’
    â€˜It was at the time, it was a massive blow ... but now these days it’s the not knowing which gnaws away at me,’ Mrs Wenlock explained. ‘The horrible not knowing. It’s awful.’
    â€˜Yes, it would do. I can understand that. Well, hopefully this might be the beginning of the end of it all for you; you might at least get some closure now,’ Hennessey replied. ‘Thank you for calling us, Mrs Wenlock ... two of my officers will be with you very shortly.’
    â€˜Thank you, sir,’ Mrs Wenlock replied with a soft but strong voice now fully calmed. ‘Thank you very much.’
    â€˜No ... it is really for us to thank you, ma’am,’ Hennessey assured her. ‘Yours was a very prompt response. Thank you.’ He gently replaced the handset then picked it up again and dialled a four-figure internal number. ‘Collator?’ he asked when his phone call was rapidly answered.
    â€˜Yes, sir.’ The male voice was crisp, alert, reassuringly efficient sounding.
    â€˜Can you please dig out a missing persons file in the name of James Wenlock, aged forty-six when he disappeared about ten years ago? He had a home address in Selby,’ Hennessey asked.
    â€˜Got it, sir,’ replied the crisp, alert voice. ‘Wenlock, James, forty-six, home address in Selby. I’m on it. Leave it with me.’
    â€˜Good man,’ Hennessey again let his smile be heard down the phone. ‘Send it up to me as soon as you have retrieved it from the archives.’
    â€˜Yes, sir. It will be with you asap.’
    Once again Hennessey replaced the handset of his telephone, then picked it up but thought better of using it. Picking up his notebook, he stood and walked down the CID corridor to the detective constables’ room, and for a few seconds stood motionless on the threshold. He noted both Reginald Webster and Carmen Pharoah to be present. Carmen Pharoah was sitting at her desk writing; Webster, by contrast, Hennessey observed, was standing at the window looking out at the townscape behind Micklegate Bar Police Station, hands in his trouser pockets.
    â€˜Not too busy, I see, Reg.’ Hennessey quietly announced his presence. Webster spun round, white-faced. ‘Oh, sorry, sir. Really just this very second I stood up, a loud bang, like an explosion ... and being a copper ...’
    â€˜That’s true, sir,’ Carmen Pharoah added, ‘it was really quite an explosion. We were both startled by it; it’s strange you didn’t hear it.’
    â€˜Yes, yes ... all right.’ Hennessey held up his hand. ‘Well, one of you write this address down, please.’ Hennessey then read out Mrs Wenlock’s address in Selby.
    â€˜I have it, sir,’ Carmen Pharoah replied, having written on her own notepad. ‘That’s quite a well-to-do area of Selby, I believe.’
    â€˜Well, I dare say you’ll find out if you’re right or not.’ Hennessey closed his notebook. ‘I’d like you two to visit her. She, Mrs Wenlock, has just phoned claiming to recognize the e-fit printed in today’s paper as being that of her husband, her missing husband. One James Wenlock, Esquire.’
    â€˜Really?’ Webster took his jacket off the back of his chair. ‘That was timely.’
    â€˜So she claims, and she sounded very earnest. I’d like you two to visit her, asap – see what you see, find what you find.’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’ Carmen Pharoah stood and reached for her lightweight summer jacket. ‘Movement already, that can’t be bad ... can’t be bad at all.’
    â€˜Obtain a sample of his or