Page 22

chapter twenty-two

James went to Dr. Jandicott before he even went in to the Met.

He felt more energized than he had for a week. The time with Gabriella had given him more than just useful information, it had cleared his mind and centered him.

The pathologist was unlocking his office door, briefcase in hand, and raised his brows when he saw James. “Something come up?” he asked.

“There was another body,” James said. “Yesterday outside St Thomas’ Church in Kensington and Chelsea.”

“Is that so?” Jandicott pushed his door open and walked behind his desk. “In the church itself?”

“The church is currently carrying out repairs. She was found in a skip bin in the car park. Constable Evans was one of the responding officers.” James didn’t sit down, he had too much energy.

Jandicott picked up his phone, called someone, and James heard his conversation with half an ear as he worked out a plan of action for the day. He’d already called the barracks and left a message for Hartridge to come straight to Jandicott’s office.

“The post mortem is on my schedule for today.” Jandicott replaced the receiver. “The body came in yesterday, but I was busy with another post mortem, and had given standing orders not to be interrupted.”

“All right, that’s good.” James relaxed a little. At least the body hadn’t ended up with someone like the drunk Doctor Venables.

“Do you want to accompany me, and we can do an initial examination now?” Jandicott asked.

“Yes, please.” He got the impression Jandicott was just as alarmed at the number of deaths as he was. The sooner they made progress, the safer the streets would be.

And while he may have worked out the method, perhaps even the circumstances of the murders, he had no idea who was behind it.

“Were you working as a pathologist here during the war?” James asked. Jandicott looked to be in his late 50s, and it was possible.

The doctor shook his head. “I was an army doctor on the Continent during the war.” As he walked with James down to the morgue, he shot him a quizzical look. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s someone who worked the night crew during the Blitz, and he found a suspicious death in the aftermath of the bombing of the old Billick Building, where the body from the other day was found on the rubble. And the body found yesterday was at a church that was bombed in the Blitz. The vicar found a woman’s body after the bombing, even though the bomb didn’t explode. Then, the allotment gardens where Pamela Moresby was found used to be a factory during the war, and it caught fire during the Blitz. They found a dead woman in there, too.” James couldn’t help the sense of excitement that gripped him as he laid it out for Jandicott. This was too much to be coincidence.

“What about the first site?” Jandicott asked. “Was it bombed?”

“Hartridge and I will investigate that. It’s possible.” He paused. “I need to look into those deaths from the records. See if there was any hint of foul play back then.”

“What happened with the body the man on the night crew discovered?” Jandicott asked.

“He was suffering from shell shock from the first World War. He wasn’t taken seriously. But he’s adamant he was right. I’ll have to go have a chat with him, as well.”

Jandicott stopped in front of a door, pulled out a bunch of keys, and unlocked it. “Let’s see what we have here.”

James stood in the doorway, letting the pathologist in first to look the body over. Footsteps sounded in the corridor and he turned his head as Hartridge came toward him.

“What’s happening?” Hartridge asked.

“New body. Found yesterday morning.” James glanced at him, then focused back on Jandicott.

“Possibly killed at the start of the weekend.” Jandicott lowered the sheet that covered her as he turned toward them. “The rate of decomposition would put her time of death around there.” He paused. “There’s some nasty wounds to her chest and upper arm.”

“That might be from the contractor working on the church tower who was throwing old bricks down into the skip before he realized she was in there.” James remembered Gabriella telling him how horrified the man had been when he saw her.

Jandicott inclined his head. “That’s something, at least. It wasn’t a deliberate desecration of the corpse.”

“And the cause of death?” James couldn’t fight against the hot, burning sensation in the pit of his gut.

“Two hammer blows to the head,” Jandicott said.

Their killer had taken four victims in less than two months—that they knew about—and who knew how many during the war.

James stepped back with a sense of purpose. “Let me know if you find anything interesting?” he asked.

The pathologist nodded. “Good hunting.”

* * *

Gabriella and Liz left headquarters at the start of their shift and parted ways on the Kings Road.

Liz walked away on her rounds like she was dragging a weight behind her, the consequences of partying at Dance-A-Go-Go until late.

Gabriella realized she felt like she was dragging a weight behind her, too, but it was because she was getting closer and closer to the church.

It had taken a long time for her to look inside an illegally parked car without worrying, after she’d found a body inside one in the summer, and she couldn’t describe how relieved she was when she’d been taken off her old route, and no longer had to walk past the alleyway where she’d found Patty Little’s body.

She didn’t like to make waves, but maybe Mr. Greenberg would change her route again, even if it was just to switch this particular street out with someone else.

St. Thomas’s came into sight, and she must have been staring at the scaffold-covered spire without a care for her surroundings, because a cyclist almost knocked her down as he came past her on the pavement.

She felt his shoulder brush hers as he sped past, and he looked back at her, as shocked by the contact as she was, his eyes wide, before he turned to face forward and disappeared around the corner.

When she reached the church, though, the skip bin was gone, and the workman was nowhere in sight. The car park was empty. It seemed even worse this way, which made her tell herself there was no pleasing her, but still, she hurried past, not even bothering to check for anyone parked on double yellows. She only felt like she could breathe again when she turned onto the next street.

Up ahead there was a pile of furniture on the pavement, neatly stacked beside a house that looked like it was being renovated, and as she got closer, she saw Teddy Roe and another man standing in front of it.

“Morning, Mr. Roe,” she called. “Out looking for something new for your place?”

“Eh?” He turned, recognized her, and touched his cap. “Can you believe this, Gabriella? There’s stuff here looks good as new.”

It didn’t really. Most of it looked worn, but it did look serviceable and clean.

“This is my mate, Jerry.” Teddy Roe jerked a thumb at Jerry, who was inching back into a hedge at the sight of her. Teddy Roe realized it and shook his head. “She’s not a WPC, mate, she’s a traffic warden.”

Jerry relaxed a little. Gave her a tiny nod.

Gabriella nodded back. “Do you remember Mr. Archer?” she asked Teddy. “The detective sergeant who rescued me back in the summer?”

“Aye.” Teddy Roe gave a nod. “You’re stepping out with him, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She was surprised at the warm feeling she had at the thought. “I told him what you told me about the body you found in the old Billick Building, and he’s very interested in talking to you about it. So don’t be surprised if he comes looking for you. It’s just about what you can remember from that time, to help him.”

She knew Teddy Roe. Knew he would run in a blind panic before he could think things through, if he didn’t have advance warning.

“Help him?” Teddy Roe considered it. “I can do that.”

“Good.” She glanced at the cars parked beside the curb, and just then, a sleek black Mercedes drew up and parked clearly on double yellows. She hitched her bag up on her shoulder. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”

She could hear Teddy Roe chuckling behind her, she assumed he was tickled at her calling him a gentleman, and then the two men went back to discussing what was feasible for them to take back to Teddy Roe’s little shed, given they were going to have to carry anything between them.

As she got closer to the Mercedes, she began to steel herself for a confrontation. People with shiny black cars like the one in front of her were usually owned by rich old men. Sometimes she got lucky, and it was a chauffeur, and they were generally all right, but if it was the car’s owner, it often went badly.

She didn’t know what enraged them more; that she was giving them a fine, which they didn’t like, or that she was a young woman telling them, an older man, that he was in the wrong.

Disrespectful and uppity were two words she heard almost every time.

To keep things short and sweet, she wrote down the license number so she didn’t have to ask for it, or waste time looking afterward.

As she reached the driver’s door, she’d almost convinced herself it was going to be a chauffeur because the engine kept idling, but the man inside didn’t look right. He wasn’t in a chauffeur’s uniform, but neither was he over fifty and all puffed up.

Instead, he looked a little too sleek, and wore a little too much cologne.

“You’re stopped on double yellows,” Gabriella said. “You’ll need to move along, or I’ll have to issue you with a fixed penalty notice.”

“That’s fine,” the man said. “Why don’t you get in first for a minute, eh, love? I need a word with you.”

Gabriella stared at him. “A word?”

“Just a quick chat about a fine you issued a couple of months back.” He smiled and patted the passenger seat.

Gabriella froze. She didn’t like that she did, but it was so surprising. So unexpected. “No.”

She saw immediately that he didn’t like that. She was almost mesmerized by the sudden flash of temper on his face, and then he leaned across, and his hand snaked out and gripped her forearm. “Wrong answer. Tell me about a green Jaguar in Chelsea.” The man’s eyes were a light blue, and he watched her with cold detachment as she began to twist her arm to get free.

“Are you mad?” She tried to step back, give herself more space to get away, and he ground his fingers into her even harder.

“Just answer the question, girly, and I’ll be off.” He jerked her forward, closer to him.

“I won’t answer anything until you let me go.” She stared at where his hand was clamped on her arm, almost unable to believe this was happening.

“Fine.” He let go, and the moment she was free she backed away, and then ran around the rear of the car and onto the pavement.

She was cradling her arm close to her chest.

“Now, that wasn’t nice. We had a deal.” He was out of the car so fast, he was on the pavement before she could even decide which way to run.

She looked up and down the street. The only people to be seen were Teddy Roe and his friend Jerry.

“Teddy Roe,” she shouted. “Get help!”

Teddy Roe was already looking her way, and the man from the Mercedes glanced at the two old men and dismissed them.

Gabriella lifted her bag as a barrier between them. “You hurt me,” she said.

“I just needed you to concentrate,” he said, with a shrug that enraged her even more than the way he’d held her. “The green Jaguar you fined three months ago. Which house did the driver come out of?”

Gabriella laughed in his face. “Do you know how many fines I issue a day? And most of the time, I never see the drivers. The reason they are getting a fine is because they’ve parked their cars and gone somewhere else without checking the time or whether they’re allowed to park where they have.”

He hesitated, as if this had not occurred to him. “So you never saw him?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” She lied without compunction. She was no friend of Mr. Jaguar, but she actually couldn’t remember which house he’d come out of, and this man had physically hurt her.

He studied her. “I know it was you who issued the fine. And I was told you did interact with the driver of this particular car. Why are you lying?”

“How on Earth do you know any of that?” she asked. Was there someone at traffic warden headquarters who’d given this man her route?

“I’ve got my ways.” He tapped the side of his nose, which was a gesture she’d have to ask Liz or James about.

“And your ways are what?” she persisted.

“Never mind, just answer the question.” He lunged at her, grabbing her upper arms and giving her a shake.

Before she could respond, a chair whacked into his back and he swore, letting her go as he turned to see what was going on.

Teddy Roe was holding a chair from the pile by its back rest, moving the legs back and forward as if he was a lion tamer at a circus.

“What the blazes?” The man tried to grab a leg, but Teddy Roe jerked it away, pulling the man off balance.

There was a sudden sound of metal hitting metal, and with a curse, the man looked toward his car.

Jerry was holding a long poker, slightly rusted at the one end, and once he saw he had everyone’s attention, he hit the side of the car with it again.

With an explosive curse, the man ran toward him, but Jerry danced back, over the road to the other side, and waved the poker around from the far pavement. “Bully,” he shouted. “Stop hurting that girl.”

The man turned back, but Teddy Roe had moved forward, and was thrusting the chair back and forth by the backrest, blocking all access to her.

The noise had drawn attention, and a few people began to come out of their front doors.

With another curse the man got into the car, which was still running, and drove away.

Gabriella realized she was shaking. “Mr. Roe, you’ve come to the rescue again.”

Teddy Roe lowered the chair and turned back to her, a huge grin on his face. “’Twas fun,” he said. “Loved it.”

Jerry swanned back across the road, waving the poker in some kind of victory dance. “We got him,” he said. “Got him good.”

“You did. I can’t thank you enough.” She shivered.

She left them slapping each other on the back, and having what looked like a whale of a time.

She was nervous for the rest of her route, worried that if the man could find her at one point on it, there was nothing stopping him from trying again at another.

But no black Mercedes made an appearance.

As she climbed the stairs to headquarters and stepped inside, she looked toward Mr. Greenberg’s office, torn.

Once again, she would be the squeaky wheel, but it was unacceptable for someone to have given out her route. She had a right to feel as safe as it was possible to feel in what was a confrontational job.

She squared her shoulders, and walked toward the boss’s office.

The door was open when she got there, and Mr. Greenberg was packing up his things.

“Gabriella.” He paused, looking at her with a growing frown.

“Mr. Greenberg.” She took a step inside, and realized her fists were clenched.

“Tell me.” He sat back down, his things stacked to one side.

She carefully told him, trying to be as objective and unbiased as possible.

When she told him about the Jaguar following her, and waiting outside the building for her, then outside her flat, he leaned forward in his chair.

He knew Teddy Roe, and when she moved on to the events of the day, he smiled a little at her description of how he’d come to her rescue and eventually pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m changing your route, and it will be between you, me, and the person I switch you with, until I get to the bottom of this. Is that acceptable to you?”

She gave a nod. “I’m sorry, sir. I seem to always be getting into some kind of bother.”

“No.” He rose. “You were doing your job. And someone here made that job much more difficult.” He looked at her and she realized she was cradling her arm again. “Let me see.”

She reluctantly pulled her sleeve up, and looked down at the dark purple bruises. They were worse than she’d thought.

Mr. Greenberg was quiet, and then he bent down and pulled a camera out of a drawer. “Hold still, please.”

She waited while he took a few shots.

“You and I will go and lay a formal complaint tomorrow, but I’ll make some calls first tonight. No one hurts my people without consequences, Miss Farnsworth.”

She looked at his face and then began to back out. “Thank you, sir.”

“Wait.” Mr. Greenberg set the camera down and lifted a pen. “Did you get the license plate of the car?”

She leaned against the doorjamb. “As it happens, I did.”