The taxi arrives at the police station, and Maggie looks pale as she climbs out, so Oscar says, “It’ll be fine.” He holds the door to the building open, doffing an imaginary hat for Maggie. She tries a smile, then shrugs and squares her shoulders, marching through the door and heading for the front desk.
The duty sergeant looks up from his computer monitor expectantly. “Help you?”
Maggie clears her throat. “I’m uh, here for a line-up.”
“And that would be with which officer?”
“Oh uh.” Suddenly flustered. “Oh right, Detectives Lewis and, er, Wolf.”
“That’d be Detective ‘Wolfrom’.”
Maggie nods, “Yeah.” The officer scrolls through pages of data, skimming until he finds what he’s looking for. “Just have a seat over there and I’ll get a PC to take you up.”
“Okay.” Maggie turns and follows Oscar over to the bank of plastic chairs by the window. “PC? Personal computer?”
Oscar smiles, “Police Constable”.
Maggie nods. “Ah. Makes more sense than ‘politically correct.’ ”
