by Tim Ellis
‘We’ll be here at ten o’clock, Nikki,’ Quigg said. ‘If you’re not here, I’m going to send a police car to arrest you. We’ll throw you in a cell at the station, torture you for a few days, and then forget all about you for at least a week. Do you get my drift?’
‘Yeah, you want me here at ten?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Fucking plod.’
‘My sentiments exactly,’ Kline said, and smiled at Nikki.
Quigg popped his head into Gina Towler’s office and told her what they’d agreed.
‘Everything going okay?’
‘As well as can be expected under the circumstances.’
‘Nikki not causing you any problems?’
‘She’s fine. A bit rough round the edges, but weren’t we all at that age?’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you were.’
***
‘Back to the station?’
‘Yes.’ He still had somewhere else to go, but he didn’t want Kline coming with him. Also, there was Walsh to visit before he went home.
‘It shouldn’t take us long to finish off those last three pages tomorrow morning.’
‘As long as Nikki manages to peel the mattress off her back.’
‘She’ll be there.’
‘She’d better be. How many possibles have we got so far?’
‘Seven up to now. Maybe a couple more tomorrow.’
‘Put the seven through CrimInt before you go home tonight.’
‘Fuck’s sake. I’ve got to take the car back. What are you doing?’
‘You don’t need to know what I’m doing. You only need to know what you’re doing, and that’s taking the car back and putting the seven suspects through CrimInt.’
‘You’re a slave driver, do you know that?’
‘I know.’
‘So, you’re going home while I do all the work?’
‘I’ve got Walsh to visit.’
‘You only saw her this morning. Are you shagging her like you did with Duffy?’
‘You’re in danger of having no job, Kline. I’d shut up and drive if I were you.’
As she pulled into the station car park his phone vibrated.
‘Quigg?’
‘It’s Jill Mora.’
‘Hello Jill, thanks for ringing me back.’
‘And for doing all the work?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m going to put something like, "Consultant to Hammersmith Police" on my website, you know?’
‘In sanitary fittings?’
‘Why not? It’ll be a talking point.’
‘I could write you a letter of recommendation?’
‘I’ll expect it in the post. Anyway, you wanted me to do a cascade search for anything on Arthur Pennington, Alexander Pedachenko, Andrew Patterson, and Augustin Pugin, and also the builders Maltby, Bell & Co?’
‘Yes, sorry about that.’
‘It wasn’t a problem. I found nothing of interest on any of the four people. Interestingly, I found nothing at all on Alexander Pedachenko.’
‘He was a surgeon at Charing Cross Hospital.’
‘So you said. In which case I would have expected his name to crop up during my search, but it didn’t. There might be a number of explanations – such as you wrote the name down wrong, or he was never a British citizen, which begs the question why he was working as a surgeon in a London hospital. I’m assuming he was Russian, and if that’s the case then he wouldn’t be on any of the databases included in a cascade search.’
‘And the builders?’
‘Name only, no details of employees. I suspect they used transient workers, which wouldn’t show up on any database. Historically, it was a time of great progress. The Victorian era was an age of construction. They loved to build things.’
‘So, the only person we’re interested in is the one person there’s no information on?’
‘It would appear so.’
‘You’ve been fantastic, Jill.’
‘I’ve marked the IOU down in my diary. Keep my number, and let me know when you’re on your way.’
‘Will do.’
The call disconnected.
***
He parked outside SouthWest3 Ink on the corner of Fulham Road and Edith Grove opposite the Valmont Club. He hadn’t seen the tattoo artist Edie Golden in over six months. They’d had a thing. After the disaster that was Caitlin, he’d thought she was the one for a time – but the relationship had petered out like a damp firework. After the novelty of sex with a new partner had worn itself thin, there was nothing tangible between them. It soon became obvious that they were from different worlds, and they’d parted as friends.
He pushed the buzzer on the intercom.
‘What?’
‘It’s Quigg.’
Silence. He’d expected her to be stunned by his reappearance, but the silence extended beyond that.
‘Are you there, Edie?’
‘What do you want?’
‘Well, I’d rather not have a conversation with a machine.’
‘You always were a smart arse.’
‘Are you going to let me in?’
‘No.’
‘I need to talk to you. I thought we were still friends?’
‘No, we’re not friends, Quigg.’
‘But...’
The door clicked. He pushed it open and went inside.
What was wrong with her?’
He climbed the stairs. The door to her flat stood ajar.
She was sitting at the table nursing a mug of probably herbal tea if he remembered correctly. She’d had her hair cut short, and behind her rimless glasses she looked drawn and tired.
‘Hello, Edie. I like your hair.’
‘I should see my solicitor about police harassment.’
‘For one visit in six months?’
‘One visit too many. What do you want?’
‘I thought we had parted as friends?’
‘What do you want?’ she repeated.
‘I want to know if you have any idea what this is?’ He took a folded piece of paper from his pocket with a forensic artist’s impression of the vague tattoo Lisa Evans had described.
She left the paper where he’d placed it.
‘How have you been?’ Her voice came from a million miles away.
‘Life’s good. What about...?’ He heard a baby cry out from along the hallway. She didn’t have to say anything. He knew immediately that it was his baby, and the clock that kept the universe moving forward ground to a halt.
They looked at each other.
‘How...?’
‘Don’t be dense, Quigg.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘What would have been the point?’
‘I’m the father.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Don’t...’
‘Yes, you’re the father, but don’t think that gives you any rights. It’s over between us, so the baby’s mine not yours.’
‘Can I see...?’
‘It’s a girl...’ She stood up and moved towards the hallway. ‘Her name is Lily Rose. Wait there, I’ll bring her out.’
She came back carrying a baby wrapped in a pink blanket.
He held out his arms. ‘How old?’
‘Two months just – born at five thirty-one in the morning of 12th March.’
‘She’s beautiful... You should have told me. I would have been there for you.’
‘I didn’t need you. You’d already left me on my own.’
‘Am I the father on the birth certificate?’
‘Is that all you care about?’
‘You know I’m not like that.’
‘I didn’t have your first name.’
‘Of course, that would have been a problem. It’s...’ He heard another cry and looked at Edie.
The clock stuttered again.
She sighed. ‘Crap! They never shut up when you want them to.’
> ‘They?’
‘Twins.’
‘Are you sure it wasn’t three... or maybe four?’
‘I think I would have remembered pushing that many out.’
‘Were you ever going to tell me?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Maybe? But I’m their father.’
‘Stop saying that, you sound desperate.’
She went back into the bedroom. This time he followed her to make sure that it was just twins – not triplets, quads or quins.
He kissed Lily Rose on the forehead and moved her to the crook of his left arm.
Edie put the boy in the crook of his right arm. ‘This is Dylan.’
Dylan smiled at him – a son. Tears came to his eyes.
He moved back to the living room and sat down on the sofa with his two children cradled in his arms.
‘What do we do now, Edie?’
‘We don’t do anything. You and I finished, remember. I fell in love with you, you got me pregnant, and then you broke my heart – end of.’
‘But I thought...’
‘You know nothing about women, Quigg.’
It was true. But did any man? ‘You look tired.’
‘So would you with these two.’
‘Let me help?’
‘You’re gonna stay here, get up and feed them in the middle of the night with your swollen throbbing breasts, wind them, change the nappies, bathe them, and all the other crap that comes with having babies?’
‘I can arrange for someone to come here and help you.’
She burst into tears. ‘I just need a good night’s sleep.’
‘Take Dylan.’
She took the boy from him. He found his phone and called Duffy.
Edie raised an eyebrow. ‘Who’s that?’
‘Girlfriend.’
‘And you’re happy for her to find out about us? About these two?’
‘Yes. Duffy’s special. And not only that, it’s a bit complicated.’ He told her how his life had changed.
‘You’re a fucking baby-making machine, Quigg.’
‘Women take advantage of me a lot.’
She laughed. ‘Yeah, like anyone is ever gonna believe that.’
‘It’s good to hear you laugh, Edie.’
‘It’s good to laugh... I really miss you, you know?’
He didn’t say he’d missed her – he hadn’t. As far as he was concerned the relationship had reached its natural conclusion. Lily Rose and Dylan obviously had other ideas.
‘Listen, I don’t want to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted, but let me help. Duffy will come and stay tonight, and tomorrow – when you’ve had a decent night’s sleep – I’ll come back and we can talk. If you say go away, I’ll go away. I hope you don’t, but I will. I’m sorry if I broke your heart, I thought it had ended. You should have said something at the time. I promised not to hurt you, I broke that promise. Let me make up for it?’
Wearily she said, ‘Come round tomorrow – we’ll talk.’
The buzzer sounded. It was Duffy. Edie let her up.
Duffy came in carrying an overnight bag.
‘Thanks, Duffy,’ he said.
She glared at him. ‘And you didn’t know about these two?’
‘No, he didn’t know,’ Edie said. ‘And he still wouldn’t have if they’d kept quiet like I told them to.’
‘This is Edie Golden,’ Quigg said.
‘So, are you breast feeding?’ Duffy asked her.
‘Yes.’
‘Have you prepared breast milk bottles for during the night?’
‘No.’
‘Okay, so we need to do that first. Then we need to move the cot into the room I’ll be sleeping in, and then you can go to bed.’ She glared at Quigg again. ‘Are you still here, Sir?’
‘Am I not meant to be?’
‘Men just get in the way.’
He pushed himself up. Passed Lily Rose to Duffy, kissed the two children he never knew he had, and headed towards the door.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot what I came here for – the tattoo.’
Edie picked up the paper and squinted at it. ‘It beggars belief how you police ever solve any crimes. That’s a bell with a "10" inside it – signifying "Ten Bells". It’s from "The Ten Bells" pub in Spitalfields.’
‘You’re a genius, Edie.’ He took her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead.
‘It’s a shame you didn’t realise that when we were together.’
He squeezed Duffy’s arm. ‘Thanks for coming, Duffy.’
‘That’s all right, Sir. And I don’t think you should tell your mum just yet, either.’
‘No, you’re probably right.’
***
‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, Sir,’ Walsh said to him as he sat in the chair beside her bed.
‘Two tiny ghosts named Lily Rose and Dylan.’ He told her about Edie and the babies.
‘And I thought I had problems.’
‘You don’t have problems, Walsh. Compared to my life, yours is a Chocolate Fudge Sundae.’
She licked her lips. ‘One of those would be nice. The food in here tastes like plastic.’
‘Well, it obviously tastes like plastic for a purpose. You’re looking like your old self again.’
‘I feel much better.’
‘Duffy get you everything you needed?’
‘Yes, apart from tampons...’
‘Don’t be disgusting, Walsh.’
She laughed. ‘Tell her I need some.’
‘Can’t you have these women’s conversations over the phone?’
‘They won’t let me use my mobile in here.’
‘The things a partner has to do. Any particular make, length, diameter or flavour?’
‘Tampax super plus.’
‘Does that mean what I think it means?’
‘Now you’re being disgusting.’
He grinned. ‘So, tell me what’s been happening to you?’
‘My leg is a mess.’
‘Has Doctor Keelan told you about the stem cell treatment?’
‘Yes, but at the moment it’s a mess.’ She began to cry. ‘No wonder Robert didn’t want to have anything to do with me.’
‘Have you been drinking, Walsh? Muchamore is a basket case. You’re one of the most beautiful women I know who I haven’t slept with, and that’s because you’re my partner. Otherwise...’
‘You haven’t seen my leg.’
‘As your partner I haven’t personally noticed your legs, but I’ve been reliably informed that they go all the way up to your sexy arse. Now, do you feel up to me discussing the case with you?’
‘Where’s Kline?’
‘I sent her home.’
‘Okay. It’ll give me something to think about other than my leg.’
He told her what he and Kline had been doing over the last couple of days.
‘You’re not having much luck, are you?’
‘I see the doctors haven’t done anything about your habit of making understatements.’
She laughed. ‘You keep going until you get a break.’
‘I’m comforted by your words of wisdom.’
‘Stop by anytime, Sir. I’m always happy to help.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘No fucking way!’ Lucy said.
‘Yes way.’
‘You’re trying to populate the whole fucking world all on your own, aren’t you? I’m beginning to feel left out.’
‘Well don’t. Remember, if you get pregnant I’ll have to shoot you.’
‘And you’ve still got that gun, haven’t you?’
‘You do not want to be pregnant, Lucy,’ Ruth said. ‘It is the worst thing in the world. Sometimes, I wish I were dead.’
‘No you don’t,’ Quigg said brushing her face with his fingers. ‘Tell me what’s been going on here?’
She smiled. ‘We have a surprise for you.’
‘I wanted to show him,’ Lucy said pouting.
&nbs
p; ‘Maybe we should wait until Mavourneen is here?’ Ruth said.
‘No fucking way, Jose. Let’s do it now?’ She put her arm through Quigg’s. ‘Are you in or out, Ruthie baby?’
Ruth shrugged and linked Quigg from the other side.
‘You’ll have to close your eyes,’ Lucy instructed him.
‘You’re not... going to do anything, are you?’
‘Stop being a fucking wimp, Quigg. Close your eyes before I poke them with a dirty stick.’
He laughed. ‘You’re such a pleasant person.’
They led him through the house, and he had no idea where he was.
‘Okay, you can open your eyes now,’ Lucy said.
He opened them, but still had no idea where he was. He looked left, right, up and down. ‘Christ, you’ve created a walkway between the church and the chapel.’ There was newly laid concrete on the floor, plasterboard on the walls and ceiling, and four doors.
‘That is only part of it,’ Ruth said with a gleam in her eye. ‘Open the door.’
The door to his left led back the way they’d come – through Duffy’s side of the house. The door to his right led into the Chapel. There was a door behind him, but he opened the door directly ahead. It was a large empty room with a window in the far wall.
‘They’re gonna finish it tomorrow,’ Lucy said. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s great. What’s it for?’
‘You can be fucking thick sometimes, Quigg? It’s for you.’
‘Me?’
‘You said you wanted somewhere to call your own,’ Ruth said. ‘This is it. Turn around.’
He turned and opened the remaining door. It was another room, which was the mirror image of the one behind him. ‘What’s this one for?’
‘You again, dork. One’s a bedroom, and the other’s a study. You wanted a bolthole – this it. What do you think?’
‘I love it. Whose idea was it?’
‘Tony Carter’s,’ Lucy said. ‘This way, the tunnel is protected from above, you get a place of your own, and I don’t have to walk outside in the fucking rain.’
‘The question now, is where am I going to sleep until it’s finished?’
‘Ruth and I were talking about that before.’
‘Oh?’
***
Tuesday 29th May
After hanging his coat on the peg on the wall behind his desk he turned to find DS Jones blocking the doorway.