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Jessica Daniel: Locked In / Vigilante / The Woman in Black
  • Текст добавлен: 3 октября 2016, 22:32

Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Locked In / Vigilante / The Woman in Black"


Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson



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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 60 страниц)




23

Rowlands drove them both back to the station, still crowing about his friend’s trick. He had kept the poker chip as a memento. Jessica thought about what Hugo had told her. The shoes and the watches were misdirection. She didn’t know how he had done the trick but did feel as if she had learned something from him. In terms of progress, the meeting hadn’t got her anywhere but she felt it could be useful in the future. For now, she just had to put his advice into practical terms. She still felt that the key to the case would be linking the victims. Wayne Lapham was a connection but there must be another. If she could find that link, she felt sure the rest of the pieces would click into place – including the mystery way the person had got into and out of the houses. It was that part she felt was the misdirection. While they were focusing on the method, they were not concentrating on whoever had murdered two people.

Hugo’s words stuck in her mind as the week went on. The two people that had been given the task of linking the victims were reassigned as Jessica took on the job herself. She would take the files of Yvonne Christensen and Martin Prince home each evening, hoping something would occur to her which others had somehow missed. She went back over the notes of the interviews with the victims’ family and friends and rechecked things such as bank and phone records. She even checked where the victims had gone to school to see if they unknowingly knew each other. It was dead end after dead end and she was becoming fully aware she was turning into a nightmare to live with.

Caroline’s relationship with Randall had turned serious and they were sleeping over at either Randall’s flat or theirs every night of the week now. Caroline asked her whether she minded but it was a bit late and Jessica wouldn’t have objected even if she did; she was pleased her friend was happy. Caroline said that Randall’s flat was a bit basic and theirs was much nicer. Jessica was allowing herself to be engulfed by the work. She would leave the flat early and either come home late, or return with the two files she knew off by heart. She had phoned Harry the evening after meeting Hugo but he had not answered. She also texted Garry Ashford that night.

‘I owe you.’

In many ways, the week had gone well. Her court appearance was out of the way and the embarrassment over what had happened in the incident room the previous weekend was forgotten. Somehow, she was also off the hook over her relationship with the media. The irony was that she hadn’t spoken to the papers when she was under suspicion but afterwards she actually had talked to Garry Ashford and was now not in trouble. It was odd how things worked out.

Of course there was one major problem: the investigation was still going precisely nowhere and even the press were bored now. Since visiting Sandra Prince after her release from hospital, Jessica had phoned the woman twice more. She wanted to let the victim’s wife know she was trying her best. Each time they talked, Jessica could hear the devastation in the woman’s voice. She said nice things and wished her well but Jessica felt guilty for her own lack of progress.

Caroline had noticed her friend’s isolation and said she wanted to do something to cheer her up. Jessica had told her not to but eventually relented. Caroline had arranged a dinner party at their house, wanting to show Randall what a good cook she was. Not content with just cooking for two, she insisted Jessica be there too, while Randall had invited one of his friends along.

Jessica knew it was a sneaky way of getting her on a date of sorts but couldn’t be bothered arguing. As promised, she had come home from the station ‘on time’. She told Caroline that, if anything major was to occur, the plans would have to change but, much as she had willed it to, nothing had come up through the day. As she entered the flat, she smelled something inviting drifting from their kitchen. She yelled ‘hi’ and Caroline walked into the hallway, squealing: ‘You’re back.’

‘I’m back.’

‘Do you want to . . . get changed or anything?’

‘Nope.’

Since going into plain clothes, Jessica had spent most evenings still wearing her work suits. It was a habit that went all the way back to school, where she would stay in her uniform from the moment she got dressed in the morning to the moment she got ready for bed in the evening. Her parents had tried to make her alter her ways but eventually realised they were fighting a losing battle. She wasn’t bothered about making an impression on whoever Randall’s friend happened to be. She thought she looked all right in any case. Her suit fitted her fairly well and she had washed her hair the night before. That, along with a little make-up, was about as prepared as she bothered to get when going out nowadays.

‘Okay then. Can you watch the stove while I get changed?’

‘What do I have to do?’

‘Just make sure it doesn’t boil over.’

Even with her limited culinary skills, Jessica felt she could manage that. As ever, she put her bag and shoes down inside the living room door on top of the two files she was carrying around more for comfort than anything practical. Caroline went off to her room as Jessica entered the kitchen.

Their kitchen wasn’t massive but the end wall opposite the door had a cooker, which had eventually been brought in by their landlord after their complaints about the original one. It looked decent but Jessica had never bothered to learn how to use it. Her instruments of choice lay on the counter top next to it: a toaster and microwave. There were various cupboards lining the walls above the tops and down the left-hand side of the room. All of the doors matched the light yellow colour scheme of the room and Caroline did a great job of keeping everything spotless.

Jessica wasn’t completely sure what was in the pan she was making sure didn’t boil over by stirring it. Whatever it was, it looked potatoey and smelled good, as did whatever was in the oven itself.

Their flat had two bedrooms and a reasonable-sized living room but the kitchen had to double up as a dining room as necessary. Most of the time they ate from their laps in the living room but the option was there if they wanted to feel almost civilised.

There was a small table in the kitchen with a wobbly leg and Jessica sat fiddling with her phone, deliberately rocking the table and checking a few websites plus reading an email from her mum. Her parents had had the Internet installed a few years previously but it was only recently they were beginning to get to grips with its possibilities. With Jessica so busy and their phone calls becoming less frequent, her mum had taken to emailing. Her dad still wasn’t too taken with technology, so her mother would write on behalf of them both. Each email was immaculately written. While language was evolving thanks to things such as shortened text-speak, Jessica’s mother was certainly not one for abbreviations. Everything was spelled correctly with perfect grammar. Jessica always liked that when she read her mum’s emails and it reminded her of being younger back at home.

The doorbell went and Jessica heard Caroline calling, ‘Can you get it?’

As Jessica opened the door, Randall gave her a big grin, a hug and a ‘hi’. He kissed her on the cheek as his friend followed him in. Jessica closed the door behind them and turned around, noticing the other guy for the first time. He was a little taller than her with short black hair and a nicely trimmed stubbly beard. He was wearing fashionable dark blue jeans and a nice loose-fitting linen shirt. It had an extra button undone at the top and his thick dark chest hair was clearly visible. He had a cheeky-looking grin already on his face as he eyed her nervously, keeping his hands in his pockets.

‘How ya doin’, Jess? This is Ryan,’ said Randall.

‘Hi.’ The two of them shook hands.

‘You’re probably better waiting in the living room,’ Jessica said. ‘Caz is still getting changed and I’m on kitchen duty.’

Jessica returned to the kitchen but soon heard Caroline’s bedroom door open and then the ‘hellos’ from the other room. Her friend then came back into the kitchen. She had clearly put a lot of effort into her appearance. She was wearing a short low-cut red cocktail dress with heels, even though they were inside, and had her hair tied up away from her face, which was impressively made-up. She looked adult and sophisticated, leaving Jessica feeling a bit silly in her work outfit. ‘You look great,’ Jessica said.

Caroline gave a half-curtsey. ‘Thanks, do you reckon Randall will like it?’

‘He’d be crazy not to.’

‘Did you say hello to Ryan?’

‘Yes.’

‘What do ya reckon?’

‘Of what?’

Caroline looked sideways at her friend. ‘You know. What do you reckon?’

Jessica smiled. ‘He’s okay.’

‘Do you know he’s a vet?’

‘So?’

‘Y’know. Good with his hands, cares for animals, nice guy.’

Jessica ignored the insinuation. ‘When’s tea?’

‘Soon. Go say hello to the boys.’

‘Okay, fine. But let’s open the wine first.’

Jessica went into the living room with her topped-up glass where Randall and Ryan were watching a show on television about American truckers. It wasn’t the kind of programme she would usually have sat through. Randall was in the reclining seat, giving Jessica little option but to sit next to Ryan on the sofa. She would have to have words with Caroline when they were next alone. If she and Randall were going to try to fix her up with someone, they should at least try to be less obvious about it.

‘All right?’ she said as she slouched on to the sofa. ‘Tea won’t be long, apparently.’

‘I’ll go see how Caz is getting on,’ Randall said, standing up and heading off to the kitchen.

Be more obvious about it . . .’ Jessica thought but said nothing. She suddenly found the television programme incredibly interesting but noticed Ryan looking at her and gave him a half-smile.

Ryan was smiling back at her. He really did have a boyish grin. ‘So is it “Jess” or “Jessica”?’

‘Either, I don’t mind.’

‘Okay then, “Jess”, Randy says you work for the police?’

‘Yeah . . . Er, “Randy”?’

‘Ha. Yeah, Randy. It started off as a bit of a joke really but it kind of stuck.’

‘How do you know him?’

‘Just from out and about. Nowhere special.’ There was an awkward pause. ‘He’s a nice guy. He likes your mate a lot.’

‘He better.’

‘I’m not sure he’s really had a girlfriend before.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, I’ve never seen him go around with someone like he does Caroline.’

Another bout of quiet was broken only by the sound of the TV. ‘So . . . police then?’ Ryan tried again.

‘Yes.’

‘What is it you do?’

‘I’m in CID.’

‘Oh, are you . . . ? Oh yeah. You were in the papers, “The Houdini Hunter”.’

Jessica sighed. ‘That bloody headline . . . yeah, something like that.’

‘That’s pretty cool. You’re famous.’

‘Not really.’

Ryan’s small talk was beginning to break through Jessica’s apathy. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he was good-looking, she just wasn’t interested in having a boyfriend or anything like that. She didn’t like the fact Caroline and Randall had more or less forced her into the situation either. As for the actual talk, she didn’t make a habit of chatting to anyone about her job but there was something about Ryan; he was persistent at least.

Jessica could barely believe she was saying the words. ‘I hear you’re a vet.’

She didn’t even really like animals and had never been impressed by what people’s jobs were. In the course of being a police officer, she had come across despicable people with terrific professions and lovely people who earned terrible money doing jobs most others wouldn’t even think twice about taking. You learned to judge people on their actions, not their wealth, name or occupation.

‘I work at a practice in the centre. I only passed out a few months ago and was lucky to get a job so quickly.’

‘So you like animals then . . . ?’

‘Yeah, it kinda comes with the job.’ They both laughed but Jessica knew it was a stupid question. She would have been embarrassed if she had asked something so silly in an interview room. There she felt natural but trying to talk to someone normal felt alien.

‘How long have you been with the police?’ he asked.

‘Seven or eight years. Two and a bit in uniform, two training as a detective, then three or so since then.’

‘Do you enjoy it?’

‘I don’t know. Sometimes.’ Jessica felt vulnerable admitting that. A chill went down her back. She did enjoy it, of course. She enjoyed the wins, the results, the convictions. She didn’t enjoy the inertia and frustration, the acquittals and failures. She wasn’t having fun at the moment.

She could feel Ryan looking at her, almost analysing her discomfort. It was broken by Caroline’s voice from the kitchen. ‘Tea’s up.’

The dining table was fairly small for four of them but the meal was fabulous. It certainly made a change from Jessica’s usual diet of takeaways and microwaved food. The first course was some type of potato balls with a tomato sauce. The main course was a fish and rice dish, while dessert was a fully homemade cheesecake. It was a truly terrific effort. They all thanked Caroline for her work and Jessica volunteered to do the dishes. It wasn’t something she would usually do but, seeing as her friend had put so much energy into the evening, whereas she had simply come home and been a bit grumpy, it was the least she could do.

Caroline and Randall went to relax in the living room. Jessica had now taken to calling her friend’s boyfriend ‘Randy’ now she knew about the nickname. The poor guy seemed a little embarrassed but it was all in good humour.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ryan hung around in the kitchen to help out too. She found herself not minding. ‘Your mate can’t half cook,’ Ryan said.

‘Yup, she’s always been a top chef.’

‘Can you?’

‘Cook? Yeah. Beans on toast or pot noodle and there’s no one better.’ She gave Ryan a grin. At some point during the evening another button on his shirt had come undone, possibly deliberately. Maybe it was the wine but Jessica seemed to think his chest hair had grown during the evening. His chin stubble certainly seemed to have done. His eyes were dark and friendly.

Jessica washed the dishes, while Ryan dried before they realised they hadn’t thought it through, seeing as the guest didn’t know where anything went. Given her lack of skill in the kitchen, Jessica was fully aware that she wasn’t entirely sure where all the pots went either – but she at least had a better chance of getting it right than Ryan did.

They made more small talk and giggled to each other. Jessica finished another glass of wine and opened a further bottle from the selection they kept under the sink. ‘Emergency alcohol’ they called it. As they finished, Jessica took the bottle and went into the living room with Ryan. Randall was still sitting in the recliner, with Caroline cuddled across his lap, her short dress riding around her thighs. Jessica refilled her friend’s glass and went to sit on the sofa next to Ryan. She wasn’t complaining this time.

‘You’re getting on well, then?’ Caroline suggested with a twinkle in her eye. Jessica and Ryan looked at each other and giggled but neither answered.

‘We’re going to go to bed,’ Caroline said. ‘Thanks for the company this evening.’ She climbed off her boyfriend’s lap and helped haul him to his feet. ‘See you tomorrow, Jess. Have a fun night.’ As she went to leave the room, she leant over and kissed her friend on the forehead, before departing hand in hand with Randall.

Jessica fumbled for the remote and turned the television on. Her late-night talk-show rerun was just beginning.

‘Ha, you watch this too?’ Ryan said.

‘Not really.’

‘Me neither.’

They both laughed and Jessica edged closer to their guest on the sofa. ‘So do you reckon he’s the father?’ Ryan asked.

Jessica smiled. ‘Course he is.’

They joked and enjoyed the show together but Jessica spent more and more time watching Ryan. He had a little crinkle around the corner of his eye when he smiled and he seemed to smile a lot.

The show reached its final advert break and Ryan turned to look at her. ‘I’m going to have to go, the last bus goes soon. I could get a taxi I suppose . . .’

Jessica didn’t let him finish the sentence. She leant forwards and kissed him. It was gentle at first but he kissed her back strongly and she let him. It felt good. Before she knew what she was doing, she had her hand inside his shirt on his chest. He tried to push her back onto the sofa but she stopped him, pulling away from the embrace. He looked a little confused for a moment but, as Jessica got to her feet, she made it clear why she was stopping. She held out her hand and led him to her bedroom.

Jessica slept well, thoughts of faltering investigations and dead ends as far from her mind as they had been in weeks. She woke in the early hours but it was nice to have someone next to her. She didn’t make a habit of inviting strangers, or anyone for that matter, into her bed but she’d had a great evening. She closed her eyes and let herself drift back to sleep. It only seemed moments later but she awoke with a start. She opened her eyes as the light poured through the still too thin curtains.

She was alone on the bed.

‘Ryan?’

She didn’t say it very loudly but he clearly wasn’t in the room. She opened her eyes fully and figured she would find out if he was still in the flat. She picked up a large jumper from the floor and put it on over the nightie she didn’t remember putting on the previous night. It was a little chilly. She opened her bedroom door and walked out into the hallway before first checking the empty kitchen. She couldn’t hear any voices but headed for the living room anyway.

As she opened the door she saw Ryan sitting on the sofa in his boxer shorts reading Yvonne Christensen’s police file.





24

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

Ryan’s head spun around and he dropped the file onto his lap, where the second file, Martin Prince’s, lay. ‘Jess. Sorry. I . . . they were on the table, I was curious.’

‘What gives you the right? Do you get your kicks from this kind of stuff? From seeing dead bodies?’

‘No, sorry, I just wondered what they were.’

Ryan stood and dropped the files onto the coffee table but Jessica’s raised voice had obviously stirred Randall and Caroline. Caroline might normally have slept through the noise but Randall must have heard it. The two of them came into the living room, Caroline wearing an unfastened dressing gown which looked as if she had hastily grabbed it. Randall was just behind, clearly half-asleep and wearing just a pair of boxer shorts.

‘What’s happening?’ Caroline started speaking but Jessica was still glaring at Ryan and cut her off.

‘Get out now. You’re lucky I don’t arrest you.’

Jessica didn’t know what she would have arrested him for but was annoyed at herself as much as anything. Taking the files out of the station could be a disciplinary matter, especially if you were as careless with them as she had been.

Ryan quickly moved past Jessica, Caroline and Randall. ‘Sorry . . . I’ll just get dressed.’

Jessica picked the files up from the table and started looking through them, making sure everything was still there. As well as the private information the police had on the victims and their families, there were photographs of the crime scenes and details of the interviews they had done. The link to Wayne Lapham was clear in both files. Most details were kept on the central computer system but, with the bigger cases, they still used hard copies.

‘What did he do?’ Caroline asked.

Jessica ignored the question, spitting a reply at her friend: ‘And what did you think you were trying to pull last night? I told you I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone.’

Caroline was clearly taken aback by the venom in Jessica’s tone. ‘Sorry, I just thought . . .’

‘Well, don’t.’ Jessica stormed past the two of them, files in her hand, back into her room where Ryan was only half-dressed, still looking for his shirt.

‘Get out.’

‘Sorry, I’m going, I’m going.’

Ryan finally found his shirt and snatched it from the floor before leaving the room with a final ‘sorry’. Jessica slammed the door behind him.

Her mood hadn’t cooled by the end of the day. She had deliberately stayed at the station after hours and gone to the pub with a few of the other officers. She knew she wasn’t great company and didn’t even have the willpower to take the mickey out of Rowlands. The talk of the station that day was that the new girl had dumped him. That news had cheered her up a small amount but she was still in a bad mood.

She was annoyed at herself more than anything, aggravated she had let her guard down and not sent Ryan packing in his taxi last night; she didn’t even know his last name. Jessica wondered if she had overreacted. At first, she thought it could be true he had just picked up the files out of curiosity but then she remembered she had left them underneath her bag on the floor, not on the coffee table. He had gone out of his way to look through them.

The only thing she did regret was the way she had spoken to her friend that morning; Caroline was only trying to cheer her up and hadn’t done anything wrong aside from some clumsy matchmaking. Jessica was an adult and made her own decisions. She had certainly made the choice to let Ryan stay the night. It wasn’t Caroline’s fault but the worst thing was Jessica knew she was too stubborn to say sorry. As usual, she would wait for Caroline to apologise and then make a big deal over accepting it.

When she got home that evening, the flat was empty with a note on the coffee table that just said:

‘Sorry. X’

Caroline was obviously staying at Randall’s that night. In contrast to the day before, Jessica had a terrible night’s sleep, waking up frequently before finally giving up in the early hours and going to watch the rolling news on television.

It was a Saturday the next day and, even though she could have had the day off, Jessica didn’t want to be in the flat if Caroline returned, wanting to make her friend suffer a little longer. Jessica had already been up for hours and got dressed to go into the station. She was going to have to go in at some stage, having left her car there the previous day because she had been to the pub after work. She knew some officers would have driven home after a couple of pints, safe in the knowledge they were unlikely to be turned in by their colleagues. Everyone knew the ones who did and, while most didn’t approve, they didn’t want to be the one who said something. Breaking the law in such a blatant way was a line Jessica hadn’t crossed and didn’t want to.

The station was only a bus ride and five-minute walk away and she figured that she might as well put in a few hours if she was going anyway. When she arrived not long after nine in the morning, reception was busier than it usually was on a weekend. All the drunks and troublemakers from the night before would be in the cells under the station and things were usually fairly steady by this time.

She asked one of the uniform officers what was going on. ‘Nothing much,’ came the reply. ‘Probably a missing person. The call came in last night. We’re off to support the tactical entry team.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. You now know all I do.’

Jessica checked the details with the desk sergeant, who seemed to be the bearer of all knowledge. ‘That’s pretty much it,’ he said. ‘A call came in from a woman last night who said she’d not seen or heard from her mother in a few days. She wasn’t answering her front door and the daughter reckons she can hear her mum’s mobile phone going off inside.’

‘Why doesn’t she let herself in?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose she doesn’t have a key.’

‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘It’s just a missing persons thing. They come in all the time.’

‘Maybe. I’m going with them.’

‘You’re not in today, are you?’

Jessica didn’t hear him and was already off to get the address from one of the men in uniform. Something seemed a bit too familiar. Missing persons reports did come in all the time but how many left their phones at home and locked the door before going missing? If you wanted to disappear, you just did it.

She got in her own car and headed towards the address. She knew roughly where it was but not exactly. It was generally in the same area as the first two victims but on a main road where you wouldn’t want to be out after dark. The street was notorious for street prostitutes and kerb-crawlers and there had been a couple of vicious assaults in the past year or so. Jessica found the address fairly easily, mainly because there was a police van parked outside.

It was a ground-floor flat at the end of a row of dingy-looking shops. The main door was next to another on the side of the building which backed onto some sort of delivery yard for the shops. Beyond that was a patch of grass and some wasteland. Jessica went to talk to the two members of the tactical entry team, introducing herself and showing her identification. It wasn’t usual policy but the tactical entry team said they were under instructions to wait for the uniformed officers to arrive. Jessica soon saw why; a girl who certainly looked as if she was still a teenager came storming up to her, pointing a finger. ‘Are you in charge?’

‘No.’

‘Well, who is?’ The girl looked back towards the tactical entry officer. ‘Why can’t you just hurry up and go through the bloody door? My mum could be hurt in there.’

Jessica quickly weighed the situation up. Tactical had arrived ready to go in but, given the daughter’s hostility, had called in for uniform to escort them just in case. There was another woman standing on her own not far from the flat’s front door smoking. She was quite a bit older, certainly in her fifties. Jessica first went to try the door handle but it was locked, so she walked across to the other woman.

‘Hi,’ she said.

The woman looked sideways at her without a smile, replying: ‘All right?’

‘What are you waiting for?’ Jessica asked, trying not to sound too aggressive.

‘I live upstairs,’ the woman said, pointing towards a second door next to the first. ‘Kim woke me up with all the shouting. She was round yesterday wanting to know if I’d seen her mum.’

‘Have you?’

‘Have I heck.’ There was a clear hostility to the answer.

‘You don’t get on?’

‘Would you get on with someone working as a whore in the flat underneath you? Door going at all hours of the night and all that noise? You lot don’t do anything.’

Jessica hadn’t introduced herself as a member of CID but the woman clearly knew. Jessica also had to admit the woman had a point. Kerb-crawling was illegal but prostitution in itself wasn’t. Her ‘lot’ almost certainly hadn’t done anything but there wasn’t a whole lot they could do. The daughter who Jessica assumed was ‘Kim’ came pounding back across the yard towards the two of them. ‘I bet you’re loving this, aren’t you?’ she shouted at the woman.

‘Leave me alone, Kim. I told you yesterday I haven’t seen Claire.’

‘Oh, piss off. You were always moaning, banging on the bloody ceiling. Calling the old bill.’

Jessica stepped in between the two of them, pointing towards a piece of grass between them and the tactical team. ‘Okay, Kim, I think you should go over there,’ she said. ‘It won’t be long.’

Kim glared at her. She was wearing jeans and a tight-fitting dark T-shirt. Her long blonde hair was tied into a loose ponytail. If it wasn’t for the snarl on her face, she would have been pretty.

She turned from Jessica to the other woman, hissing a reply – ‘You better not have anything to do with this’ – before walking towards the spot Jessica had indicated.

‘That’s what I get all the time,’ the woman said to Jessica. ‘You’d think I was the one causing trouble.’

‘How long have you lived here?’

‘A year or so. I want to move out but am stuck on the housing association waiting list. Because I’ve got a place to live I’m not a priority.’

‘Has the mother lived below you this whole time?’

‘Claire? Yes – it’s a convenient location for her, ain’t it?’ There wasn’t much else they could say to each other but moments later a marked police car pulled up next to Jessica’s Punto behind the van. Two officers clambered out and crossed to the two tactical officers who were taking some heavy-looking equipment out of their van. The flat’s door was double-glazed and very similar to the Christensens’ and Princes’. From everything the locksmith had told her a couple of weeks ago, they weren’t very easy to kick in.

As the other officers arrived, Kim again marched over to the tactical team before all four officers and the girl went towards the front door. Jessica joined them and everyone was asked to stand back while the team smashed their way through using a two-man battering ram.

The door took a fair amount of hammering before eventually succumbing to the brute force. Jessica wanted to be first through the door but Kim beat her to it, dashing inside and disappearing from view. Jessica started to lead the other officers in but, as she heard the ear-piercing scream, she knew exactly what they would find.


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