If Danny Longhurst seemed to be relaxed enough, his mind told a different tale. He knew he’d done the right thing by linking up with Harry McFry, but he was starting to worry that it wasn’t going to be easy getting Lillian McFry’s medals to
While Harry refilled the coffee jug, Danny looked around the office. When he’d ‘called in’ to collect his portfolio yesterday, he hadn’t had the luxury of much time, and had hardly noticed the surroundings as he’d homed in on the notebook on Harry’s desk. Now, he surveyed the scene more carefully, A couple of battered, three-drawer filing cabinets. An old desk, and a computer that didn’t look much younger. A bookcase, crammed with files and folders, alongside standard family history reference books.
The whole place looked as if it could do with a good clean – that dusty Venetian blind, in particular, And the stale smell of tobacco, mingled with coffee that it took a non-smoker to detect. Danny thought it didn’t give much of an impression about ‘Harry McFry Genealogical Private Investigations’. Yet he knew Harry’s reputation, and had seen him at work over the last fifteen minutes. He’d learn a lot by working with Harry, he was sure.
Harry returned with the coffee jug filled with water, and poured it in the filter machine.
“Where’s our Miss McFry, I wonder?” he asked Danny, but just then, a buzzer sounded, and Harry reached to press the intercom button on his desk. It was