‘Truthfully, I hope not,’ Becky replied solemnly.

‘I know the News Shopper is only a weekly paper, but you might be able to help us with a follow-up piece.’

‘Really. How?’ she asked, sounding eager.

‘My DCS is holding a press conference at Orpington later today. He’s releasing details about a crucifix we recovered which had some initials and a date on it. Hopefully, it will result in a positive identification. If it doesn’t, he’ll no doubt need to do a further appeal through the national and local press outlets.’

‘Do you think I could go to the press conference?’

‘You’re a journalist, so I can’t see why not. I’ll make sure your name is on the press list.’

‘Thank you so much, DC Boon. It’ll be my first press conference.’

‘Please, call me Simon.’

Becky leaned forward. ‘The lady who phoned me said she still keeps in contact with one of the nuns. I’ll see if I can get her name and address for you.’

‘That would be really helpful, but don’t get yourself in trouble on my account. Would you mind asking her if she’d be willing to speak to me?’

‘Of course. I’ll call her as soon as I get back to the office.’

‘That would be great.’ He finished his coffee. ‘I was also wondering what made you want to become a journalist?’

She laughed. ‘Originally, I was focused on being a fashion writer, but then I found myself drawn to investigative journalism.’

‘Did that stem from your dad being a copper?’

Becky nodded. ‘A bit, I suppose. Listening to the cases he was dealing with as a coroner’s officer interested me . . . not in a gory way, though. I’ve always found it hard to understand why people commit some crimes – especially murder. Investigative journalism helps me to understand it better. And I believe journalists have a duty to write responsibly and help catch the perpetrators of any crime.’

‘There are a lot of things we have in common, then.’ Boon smiled, knowing they both still had a lot to learn in their chosen professions.

She smiled back. ‘Yes, there are.’

Returning to the News Shopper office, Boon waited in the foyer while Becky went upstairs and phoned her contact. It wasn’t long before she returned.

‘Mrs Gorman is happy to see you,’ she told him, ‘but she’d like me to be there as well . . . if that’s OK with you, of course?’ Becky smiled.

Boon realised she was quite crafty, and not nearly as naïve as she pretended to be. He had no choice but to say yes.

*