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Blood on the Marsh (DI Susan Holden 3)

Page 40

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Holden’s thoughts were more focused: ‘Has Jim Wright been working here today?’

‘No,’ she replied. ‘There really isn’t anything else we need him for. Roy is perfectly capable of coping on his own.’

Holden nodded, taking in the implication that under Greenleaf’s charge Jim Wright’s presence had not been entirely necessary. Was this bitchiness or fact?

‘And is Ania Gorski working today?’

Fran looked at her watch with a frown. ‘Yes, she finishes at four o’clock.’

‘Ah, well I really need to see her now. More questions, I’m afraid.’

‘That’s fine.’ Not that Fran had much option if it hadn’t been fine. Ania might have had three patients with filthy nappies to be changed, but she doubted that would have made a difference to the inspector. ‘Would you like me to go and find her?’

‘Please! If you could send her along to the staff room.’

‘And would you like more coffee?’

‘Please! If it’s no trouble.’

‘No trouble at all, Inspector.’

Back in the staff room, Wilson was perched over Greenleaf’s laptop. He had found little else of interest, and certainly not the evidence to suggest Greenleaf had been heavily into child pornography, but he wasn’t prepared to give up yet. Lawson was scanning her mobile, while Fox was looking at a copy of the Oxford Mail.

‘I need Jim Wright’s mobile number,’ Holden announced to them all.

‘I expect it’s on his invoices,’ Fox said immediately. ‘I’ll dig it out for you.’

But when Fox dug out the number, and Holden called it, Jim Wright didn’t answer. Instead, the answering service kicked straight in. Either he was on a call already, or the phone was turned off or out of range. Holden left the briefest message, asking him to ring back, and hung up.

‘Right!’ she said. ‘You, Fox, and you, Lawson, take one of the cars and get round to the Wrights’ house. See if Jim is skulking there. If not, maybe Maureen will be able to enlighten us.’

‘So what do you think? About the guv?’

Fox had barely started the car before Lawson asked the question. He said nothing as he reversed the car, and then moved forward down the drive.

‘In what sense?’ he asked cautiously as he reached the gateway onto Fitzroy Close.

‘Do you think she’s still got what it takes? After, you know, Karen.’

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘She looks stressed to me.’

Fox said nothing. There was a private hire car half blocking the road, which he had to edge around with millimetres to spare. Only when he had done that, got to the end of Cumberland Road, and then turned left onto the Cowley Road did he explode. ‘Of course, she’s fucking stressed. Wouldn’t you be if you were in charge of an investigation with two deaths and Collins breathing down your neck? Maybe, Constable, sometimes you should think before you open your mouth.’ Fox was surprised at his own outburst. Often he would merely shake his head or make a face or just compose a tirade in his head, but somehow this time it had slipped out. He felt very defensive about his boss – he had, after all, seen her at her worst – and the fact that she was back leading her team was little short of a miracle in his book. But that wasn’t the sum of it. The fact was that Lawson could be a right pain in the backside. She was so full of herself, and so keen to make a good impression on Holden. It was intolerable that she should question her behind her back.

They were silent for the rest of their journey. Only when Fox had brought the car to a halt in Lytton Road did Lawson speak, and then in a tone so respectful that Fox wondered for a moment if she wasn’t taking the piss. ‘How would you like us to play it, Sergeant?’

‘Nice and steady,’ he said, as he clambered out of the car. ‘Nice and steady, Constable.’

Fox led the way to the house, and rang the doorbell. He didn’t expect Jim Wright to be in. If he was at home, he’d surely have his mobile turned on. But if he wasn’t, with a bit of luck Maureen would be. There was a noise from the hall, and then the tell-tale sound of the door being unlocked. Fox straightened himself. He had his opening gambit prepared, and a disarming smile on his face.

‘Hello,’ he said before the door was fully open.

‘Hello,’ said the girl.

‘Oh!’ He looked at her in disbelief. ‘Who are you?’ he said. Though in a sense he already knew who she was: it was her, the girl in the photos. The girl in the photos with Ania.

‘I’m Vickie,’ she replied brightly. ‘Is it Mum or Dad you’re looking for?



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