"Have you contacted Rosie, was she okay?"
The name didn't ring a bell, and his expression must have shown that.
"Ade's sister," she said. "It's only the two of them now. Their mother died a few years back."
Tom shook his head. "I don't know. I've been out of the office most of the day. I would have thought so. Someone will have had to… well, you know."
Alice didn't reply, instead gazed into the liquid of her cup.
"Did Adrian ever talk to you about his work?"
Alice raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "When we were married, he used to talk about nothing else," she said, shaking her head. "At first I found his passion absolutely wonderful, but then, after a few years of it, it seemed to be all-encompassing. And that was when it caused problems."
"Problems?"
"There were three in our marriage, Tom." He glanced up at the ceiling as if he could see into the bedroom beyond and the sleeping little girl, but somehow he knew that she wasn't referring to their daughter. "Ade was wedded just as much to his work as he was to me. And it wasn't like he was out nine to five, or even nine till nine for that matter. The way he did things, the way he'd drop everything and everyone if he needed to, made him an incredibly frustrating man to be around. If you've ever lived with a workaholic, then you'd understand. Even when he was at home, Ade was never really here with us. Always distracted. Always looking for the angle."
"I'll bet," Tom said, suddenly feeling quite self-conscious and vulnerable. He caught her looking at him. She was thinking the same thing, he could tell.
"At least I know what you are up to, Tom Janssen." She cocked her head. "At least for most of the time. Catching the bad guys and keeping people safe. But with Ade it was different. He was chasing down leads, harrying witnesses, and generally trying to put the world to rights."
"Any idea what he was working on more recently?"
Alice fixed her eye on him. "Is that what you think that what happened to him had something to do with his work?"
"I'm not on the case, remember."
"And would you tell me if you were?"
Tom smiled apologetically. "No. Probably not."
"But you still want to know."
He nodded.
"I can't help you though," she said, lifting her cup and sipping. "I wish I did know. I mean, it would be great to make sense of all of this, if only so I could try to explain it to Saffy."
He felt guilty then. Having left so early that morning, he hadn't been around to help either Alice or Saffy cope with the news. He couldn't, he had a job to do, but he also hadn't picked up the phone to call home once during the day. Being wrapped up in himself and the Beckett case had detached him from what was going on in his personal life. His two roles were colliding and he had to find a better way to manage things.
"I'm sorry," he said. She shot him an enquiring look. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for the two of you today."
Alice glanced away from him. For a second, he thought she was angry, but then she shifted in her seat, pushing the chair away from the table to enable her to sit facing him. She put her hands in his and smiled, an expression that belied the pain she was clearly bearing.
"I know you're here for us Tom, I do. And what you do is important. Please don't ever feel you have to choose between us."
The doorbell sounded. Tom glanced at the clock. It was late for a house call. The familiar thud came from upstairs as Russell hopped from Alice's bed to come and investigate. Alice glanced in the direction of the hall and made to stand, but he tapped the back of her hand.
"Stay here. I'll get it."
Taking a deep breath, he wondered if the local press had got wind of Alice's connection to the murdered man in Cley. It was only a matter of time until they did so and then came hunting for a story or two. Preparing to bat away the questions, he saw several figures through the obscured glass set within the front door. Probably a cameraman as well.
He unlocked the door and pulled it open. He was surprised.
"Hi Tom."
Something in her tone unnerved him. Glancing to Tamara's left, Cassie smiled a greeting, but it was half-hearted at best.
"Hi. What's going on?"
Only now did he see the uniformed patrol car parked outside on the street with two officers sitting inside watching the exchange. Tamara handed him a folded sheet of A4 paper.
"I'm sorry to have to do this, Tom," she said.
He unfolded the paper. It was a search warrant.
"Who is it?" he heard Alice ask from behind. Tom turned side on to the door, allowing her to see past him. Cassie looked down whereas Tamara acknowledged Alice with an embarrassed smile. Behind them, the uniformed officers got out of the car and made their way towards the house.
"We need to speak with Alice," Tamara said.
"Now? Are you kidding?" Tom asked.
Tamara shook her head, frowning. "I'm sorry. It can't wait." She stepped past him and into the hall. Cassie met his eye. An entire verbal exchange passed between them in his reading of her expression.
"What's this about?" Alice asked, fear edging into her tone. She looked to him for an explanation, but he didn't have one.
"We need you to come with us to the station, Alice," Tamara said.
"Why?"
"I think it's for the best if we talk about it at the station."
"Tom?" Alice asked, clearly scared, her face dropping as her eyes jumped from person to person, settling on him. He stood in silence, aware he was open-mouthed. "Am I… am I under arrest?"
"I'd rather not arrest you," Tamara said, glancing between her and Tom. "I'd prefer it if you came with us voluntarily."
"But… Saffy—"
"But I will arrest you if I have to," Tamara said sternly. Alice's eyes shot across to Tom, panic-stricken.
"It'll be okay," he said, holding his hands up to try and reassure her. "I'll be here with Saffy… and I'm sure this has all been a mistake or something. It'll all be ironed out."
Cassie looked at him and he recognised doubt in her expression.
"We'll also need to search the property," Tamara said, returning to her professional persona. Tom sensed this made her feel more comfortable. She met his eye but didn't say anything else as she placed a hand on Alice's upper arm and encouraged her to leave the house with her. They walked to the door, Tom forcing a reassuring smile.
"Mummy?"
They turned to see Saffy standing at the top of the stairs with her favourite cuddly toy, Mr Polar Bear, dangling by his arm from her left hand, Russell sitting obediently at her feet. Alice looked at Tamara despairingly. Tamara bit the outside of her lower lip and nodded almost imperceptibly. Alice calmly made her way up the stairs. Tom glared at Tamara.
"Don't look at me like that, Tom," she said quietly, so only the two of them could hear.
She made room for the uniformed constables to pass between them as they set about the search routine. Only two of them acknowledged Tom as they came past. All three carried awkward expressions. Cassie came alongside Tom.
"I've spoken with them all," she said. "They'll be thorough but respectful. You'll not know they've been here. I promise."
Tom cast a glance to the top of the stairs where Alice was attempting to calm a tearful eight-year-old, explaining that she wouldn't be long. "You reckon?" he said.
Cassie stepped past him without another word, taking the officers aside to issue instructions. Tom turned back to Tamara.
"We have no choice, Tom."
"Like this?" he hissed, trying hard to check himself as a constable looked over. "Did you have to do it like this?"
Tamara looked away and then back again, lowering her voice to a whisper. "We have two witnesses who put Alice at the scene around the confirmed time of death."
Tom shook his head forcefully. "No. No, I'm not buying that—"
"It's a solid lead, Tom. We have to follow it—"
"Yeah, tell it to someone who's interested!"
He p
ushed past her, mounting the bottom tread of the stairs as Alice descended. He took her hand, pulling her into him. She placed her head on his shoulder and he buried himself into her hair, whispering into her ear. No one else could see the action, he made sure of that. "This will be over soon. Tell the truth and everything will be fine."
She withdrew from him, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and keeping her back to Saffy, so that she wouldn't see. "Look after her," she whispered.
"I will, promise. I love you."
She sniffed hard, passing him and heading to the door where Tamara waited. Tom didn't look back. Instead, he climbed the stairs and scooped Saffy up into his arms, holding her tightly and carrying her back to her bedroom. He was furious, feeling the anger surging through him, but he wouldn't let Saffy see it. He couldn't.
Chapter Seventeen
Tom stared at the clock. He'd only checked it ten minutes previously. It felt longer. Much longer. The sky outside was lightening. Alice liked to sleep with the curtains open, something he'd had to get used to since they'd been together. The window into their bedroom faced the rising sun, but today it was grey and overcast. Almost as if the weather was set to match his mood. Throwing off the duvet, he swung his legs out and came to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, looking out of the window to the horizon. The clouds moved at pace.
He was tired. He should be, having barely slept for most of the night. Saffy's dreams had been restless and her sleep fitful. Three times she'd called out for Alice and he'd gone through to comfort her, and each and every time she asked if her mum was home, and then, after he answered, when would she be? He didn't know the answer to her question. It was one of a number that swirled around in his mind all night, causing not only insomnia but a frustrated anger that failed to dissipate. Tamara's decisions bugged him. Mind you, she wasn't likely to have detained Alice without cause, but she was wrong, at best misguided and at worst… He didn't know the answer to that question either.
Why on earth did they think Alice could have had anything to do with Adrian's death? They knew Alice. The notion was preposterous. Perhaps they didn't know her as well as he did, but certainly they'd spent time with her while she was at Tom's side. Granted, that was in a social setting, and fleeting for the most part, but even so, she wasn't the type. That was his rational mind speaking to him. The irrational side whispered negative comments to him and they were more insidious, challenging. Tamara wasn't one to shoot from the hip. If she did this, then it was for a reason. The familiar churn began again. Was there anything in her behaviour that stood out as abnormal in the last couple of days? Had his emotional connection offset his radar?
Exhaling a deep sigh, he pushed all thoughts aside. All he was doing was succeeding in keeping himself awake and driving himself slightly mad. Rising, he crossed to the window and looked out over the fields. The sky wasn't as cloudy as he first thought, but the morning was certainly grey. Mist clung to the ground, small trees and wild brush poking up from it intermittently, with an orange hue reflecting the morning sun as it crested the horizon. A symbol of hope, perhaps?
Pulling on a pair of joggers and a T-shirt, he went through to Saffy's room. The hinges creaked as he pushed open the door, Russell's head came up from where he lay alongside the sleeping child, staring at Tom expectantly. Saffy's breathing was regular and he hoped she would sleep a little longer. Usually she was up before six, heading downstairs to attack her morning routine of YouTube videos, cereal and early morning children's cartoons. The routine varied from day-to-day but the participants were the same. He backed out of the room, followed by the dog who pushed past his shins to be first down the stairs, moving so quickly he nearly lost his footing. At the bottom, he turned to Tom, ears pricked, waiting to see if Tom was following. As Tom reached the bottom tread, Russell took off towards the kitchen. He needed to go out.
Tom followed, reaching the kitchen as a key turning in the lock made him stop. Alice opened the front door and entered, surprised to see him standing there.
"Hey," he said, forcing a smile. He was desperate to press her for details, to hear why they'd pulled her into the station.
"Hi," she said, returning his smile. Hers was dejected. She looked exhausted, worse than when she pulled a double shift at the hospital. He moved towards her, hesitating when he heard the dog bark. Glancing behind him into the kitchen, he looked back at her.
"The dog," he said sheepishly, indicating with his thumb over his shoulder.
She nodded and smiled, loosening her coat and shrugging it off her shoulder. He hurried into the kitchen and opened the door to the garden. Russell took off through it before the gap was wide enough for him.
"Stupid animal," he muttered. Alice hadn't appeared in the kitchen and he went back into the hall searching for her. She was halfway up the stairs. "Alice?"
His voice stopped her in her tracks. She had one hand on the banister, the other she ran through her hair, shaking it loose from the hair band she'd put in place the previous night. However, she didn't look down at him. He reached the foot of the stairs, mounting them to go to her but her tone stopped him.
"I'm tired, Tom." She half-turned to look at him, weariness visibly descending upon her. "I just want to hug my daughter, have a shower and go to bed."
That was understandable. He kept himself composed, but inside he was shouting.
"I'm sure, but—"
"No, Tom!" she said pointedly, holding one hand up, palm facing him. She must have realised how aggressive she sounded because she bit her lower lip, shrugging off the tightness to her upper body and rolling her head across her shoulders. "I'm sure you have a million questions… so much you want to know, but I just want to see Saffy and get some sleep."
She was right. He wanted to hear everything, but the debrief would probably take almost as long as the interview process she'd just experienced. She was fatigued. He could see that. To press her now wouldn't go well, no matter how much he wanted to. He acknowledged her request with a brief nod and a flick of his eyebrows.
"I'm sorry," she said. He thought she was going to say something else as they locked eyes. He saw something in them beyond the exhaustion and the fear he'd recognised the previous night. Now he saw pain.
"Okay. We'll talk later?"
She smiled weakly, offering a curt nod.
"I spoke with your mum last night," he said. She stopped, turning back to him with an unreadable expression. "I wondered if she might take Saffy today. I'm presuming she's not going back into school today?"
"No. I hadn't planned to send her. Not until she's ready. What did Mum say?"
"That she was free and would gladly help."
"Did you tell her… where I was?"
"No. I figured you'd not want to be asked too many questions." The irony of that statement was not lost on him. "She'll be here for nine."
"Right."
Alice turned and made her way up to the landing without looking back. She pushed open Saffy's door and disappeared from view. Tom braced himself on the banister, blowing out his cheeks. Russell appeared at the threshold to the kitchen, cocking his head. Tom looked in his direction and the dog barked a solitary woof at him, the usual sound he made when expecting to be fed.
"Okay, little man," he said, heading through to the kitchen. Russell went to where his bowl was in the corner of the room and sat down, watching Tom expectantly. By the time he'd filled the water bowl, opened a can of dog food and made his way back upstairs to take a shower, he found Alice snuggled up with Saffy in her bed. Both were sound asleep, Alice with her arm across her daughter and Saffy holding her forearm with her right hand. Whether she'd woken as her mum got into bed, he couldn't say, but she certainly sensed her presence. He could see Alice had been crying. Not since she'd come home, but at some point during the night.
Retreating from the room, he closed the door as quietly as he could, making a mental note to oil the hinges as soon as he could find the time. He showered in the ensuite bathr
oom and got himself dressed, leaving the house before either of them woke up. Stopping off at his usual haunt to pick up coffee, he brought several cups to take away, barely passing the time of day with his friend unlike usual.
The short journey to the station was unsettling. He could feel the anxiety mounting as he drove the last few miles. Tamara would be waiting for him. She would know he'd have questions, demands even, and she wouldn't avoid his scrutiny by slipping away. She'd allow him to have his say. And he intended to once he knew what was going on. Entering the ops room, he found Eric at his desk stifling a yawn. Was he here all night too? Eric looked up, the surprise on his face switching swiftly to anticipation, but anticipation of what Tom couldn't tell. They were all on unfamiliar ground this morning.
"Morning, Tom," Eric said, very formally, as if that was the best thing to do. Tom knew he'd have been worrying about how to greet him from the moment he came into work. It was written all over his face. A face that was way too fresh to have been up all night. But he knew what had played out. It was clear in his tone.
"Morning, Eric," Tom said, handing him a coffee and then looking around the office. "Just you?"
"Yes. Well, no…"
Tom raised an eyebrow as Eric went to sip at his coffee, instead placing it down on the desk.
"I mean, I saw Cass on her way out as I was coming in. She was going to get some sleep after… well, you know."
"The DCI?"
"In your office."
Tom looked across the room, seeing Tamara sitting at his desk, watching him through the blinds.
"I think she's waiting to speak to you."
He nodded, patting Eric on the shoulder as he headed for his office. Glancing towards the information boards on the wall, he felt his stomach flutter as he saw a picture of Alice stuck to the top right-hand corner of the whiteboard, a red arrow drawn in thick marker pen linking it to the victim. Tamara rose from behind his desk as he entered.
"Morning, Tom. Close the door, would you?"
He did so, and then came over, setting a coffee down in front of her.
"Thanks." She smiled. "Peace offering?"
The Dead Call: A chilling British detective crime thriller (The Hidden Norfolk Murder Mystery Series Book 6) Page 13