‘Where is he, Bella?’ Holden persisted. ‘You’d better tell me before it’s too late.’
But Bella was saying nothing. Instead she just sat there, looking over Holden’s shoulder, and out through the window beyond. It was as if she had entered another reality.
‘If you don’t co-operate,’ Holden said, raising her voice, ‘then I’m going to have to ask you to accompany Detective Constable Wilson down to the station until we’ve more time to interview you.’
Bella focused her eyes back on Holden. ‘Now that really would be stupid,’ she said. Her eyes didn’t blink, and she continued speaking as if explaining a rather dull concept to a rather dull set of children. ‘You don’t look stupid to me, Inspector. Behind that miserable face of yours, I bet you’re really rather smart. But what good is taking me to the station going to do? It will occupy your constable here, and leave my flat empty. And when David comes to find me, I won’t be here.’
‘And what makes you think he’ll come and find you?’
‘Where else can he possibly go? The world is against him. I’m his mother. His real mother. He’ll come home to me sooner or later.’
Holden looked at Bella, and wondered if the woman looking back at her was completely deluded. Would David really come to Bella rather than Maureen? Surely not. Maureen had been his mother for some twenty years. How could this woman replace her? And yet. The words of doubt were there in her brain. What would it be like to be David – to have your mother return from the dead after twenty years? What might it have done to him?
‘Very well.’ Holden had made her decision. ‘You can stay here, in case David comes or tries to contact you. But Detective Constable Wilson will remain with you.’
She turned to him. ‘You stay here whatever the circumstances, Wilson. Any news and you report to me immediately. And you don’t let her out of your sight. Understood?’
Wilson tried not to show his dismay. ‘Yes, Guv.’
Holden and Fox had barely stepped out of the lift when her mobile rang. The caller’s name did not register.
‘Who are you?’ she demanded. She dared it to be someone selling something. Dared it and willed it. She was in the perfect mood to rip a call-centre operator limb from limb.
‘Nurse Straker,’ the answer came. ‘I’m calling from the hospital.’
‘The hospital?’
By the time the conversation with Nurse Straker had finished, Holden’s face – and probably every other part of her body – had gone puce.
‘Is your mother OK?’ Fox asked.
Given that a string of expletives had started to erupt from his guv’s mouth, it was, Fox knew, not the most sensible question. But he reckoned he had to say something before he had half the inhabitants of Blackbird Leys turning up for the sideshow.
‘My mother has only gone and fallen over in the hospital! Why didn’t she tell me she was going? Or Doris at least. But oh no, not my mother. She takes a taxi up to the JR for a check-up, and then faints right in front of the consultant. So Nurse Straker rings up and insists someone picks her up. And by someone she means her daughter.’
‘So let’s go.’
‘I’m in the middle of a murder case, Sergeant.’
‘She’s your mother, Guv.’
‘I could strangle her.’
But Fox had already got his door open. ‘I reckon I can do it in six minutes with the light on.’ And with that, he slipped into the driver’s seat, and started the engine.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Constable?’
‘Please. Milk one sugar.’ Wilson picked up the copy of the Oxford Mail lying on the sofa, sat down and turned to the back page. At least he could catch up on the local sport. ‘United missing out’ the headline screamed. It seemed appropriate.
In the kitchen, Bella switched the kettle on, prepared two mugs with teabags and sugar, and waited for the kettle to create some noise. Then she switched her mobile onto silent, and composed her text.
‘You must ring me. The police are looking for you. I can help. Mother.’ She looked at it, frowned, added ‘xx’ at the end, and sent it.
CHAPTER 12
For the third time in less than three hours, Fox felt acutely embarrassed by DI Holden. Previously it had been because of the terrible things she had been saying – first to David’s adoptive mother and then to his real mother. But now it was because she wasn’t saying anything at all. Here they were, taking her own mother back to her flat, and Holden had sent her to Coventry. The two of them had exchanged words at the hospital along the lines of the ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ and ‘You’re always too busy to help’ variety, but now
his DI was refusing to communicate with her mother at all. It was, he couldn’t help thinking, ridiculously childish.