Page 78 of Return Ticket

Maybe he was traveling in to the city to commit his murders and then going back to Kent, or maybe he had moved. Either way, they’d have to go out to Kent and see who was at the address now, and what they had to say about Linaker’s current whereabouts.

There was a soft knock at his door, and he looked up to see Hartridge and Gabriella.

He caught Gabriella’s gaze. “Ready to go home?” he asked.

She nodded. “My statement is done.”

He gathered up the file and put it in the slim case he had begun taking around with him.

“You read the file?” Hartridge asked, watching him.

“Yes. Good work, Ian. This means we’re off to Kent tomorrow.”

Hartridge nodded, but James could see he was dying to ask what Whetford had said, but didn’t want to discuss it in front of Gabriella.

Well, they’d have the car journey out to Kent tomorrow to talk all they liked.

“I’m going to take Miss Farnsworth home. I’ll fetch you tomorrow morning from the barracks.” He got his coat, and he could see Hartridge wanted to argue, to suggest they get someone else to take Gabriella home, but when he met James’s gaze, he closed his mouth and gave a nod.

Gabriella walked back down the stairs with him in silence, although he noticed her casting quick glances his way. He put a finger to his lips, and she nodded, giving him a smile before her expression smoothed to neutral as someone came up the stairs toward them.

When they stepped out, he saw the fog had come in.

He could see the Wolseley, but only just. Even though it was late afternoon, the fog made it dark enough to seem like dusk.

Their killer might be hunting tonight.

The thought sat like a rancid stew in his stomach.

He’d already seated Gabriella in the Wolseley and was getting in the driver side when Hartridge came running toward them, exploding through the swirling white waving his arms.

“What is it?” He knew from Hartridge’s face it wasn’t good.

“Thames Division just called. They’ve found a woman’s body in the river.” Hartridge was out of breath.

James thought immediately of Tamara Davies. He noticed Hartridge had a file in his hand.

“That the Davies file?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Get in.” He wasn’t letting Gabriella go home on her own, but he needed to find out if this could be Tamara Davies. As Hartridge got into the back of the car, he slid into the driver’s seat. “I have to go to a scene, but I don’t want you going home on your own. Do you mind waiting in the car while we check something out down by the river?”

“I can take the bus,” she said. “Go stay with my friend Dominique until you’re done.”

He liked the idea of her not having to wait for him in the car, but . . . “I know this sounds unreasonable, but you’ll have to walk to the bus stop, and once you get off, walk from the bus stop in Earl’s Court to Dominique’s flat—and you’ll have to do it in this fog.”

She studied him. “The killer uses the fog. You think he’ll be out tonight.” She spoke thoughtfully. Exchanged a look with him. “All right.”

“Thank you.” He started the car, and when he glanced in the rear view mirror, he could see Hartridge studying him with interest.

Whatever his bagman thought, he didn’t care. He would not be able to concentrate on anything tonight if Gabriella walked off alone into the fog.

chapterthirty-one

The fog was thickeron the banks of the Thames.

Gabriella knew it was to do with being in a valley, and the cold coming off the water mixing with warmer air, but that’s as far as her knowledge went.