Joanna stepped aside to talk to him.
‘What’s that about?’ he asked, cocking an eye to his son. George was flirting outrageously with Swilley, who was visibly melting. The very sight made him feel less tired.
‘I saw how knackered you were this morning,’ Joanna said, ‘so I thought you’d need cheering up.’
‘It’s working,’ Slider said. ‘Thanks.’
‘And I’ve got some news. You know my Whistle depping ends tonight? Well, I had a phone call this morning from Frank Samuels.’
‘The fixer? You haven’t heard from him in a while.’
She nodded. ‘He’s only just caught up with the fact that I’m back in circulation. But he’s always liked me, and he’s offered me a whole lot of sessions, starting next week. For the new Star Wars movie.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘They pay really well, don’t they?’
‘Yes, and even more wonderfully, there’ll be an album afterwards, which means more work, and residuals.’ She grinned happily. ‘And I love session work. No cracked singers or potty MDs. Just lots and lots of lovely dots, and hanging around with all my favourite professional musicians. Pig heaven!’
‘I’m very glad for you,’ he said, with sincerity.
She eyed him carefully. ‘And you’ve solved this bones thing. So you’re happy?’
‘I’ll tell you all about it later,’ he said. ‘At the moment there are some administrative details to clear up.’
‘Well, I won’t get in your way, then. Boy and I will go and have a bun somewhere. Shall I see you before I leave tonight?’ He hesitated. ‘Probably not,’ she answered herself. ‘All right, later then.’ She was going, but turned back to say, ‘Oh, and here’s one to tell Atherton. The keyboardist told me last night. Lloyd Webber’s writing a new musical about a pit collapse. Do you know what key it’s in?’
‘Tell me,’ he said obediently.
‘A Flat Minor,’ she said, and fled from his groans.
He got a phone call from a Vicky Rayner from Berkshire police’s Victim Support Group.
‘It’s about Mrs Knight, Mrs Margaret Knight,’ she said. ‘They tell me at Reading station it was you that first put us on to her.’
‘I went to interview her about her daughter who went missing in 1990,’ Slider said.
‘That’s what they said. Well, I wondered whether you had any more information about her daughter, at all? Or any other relatives?’
‘Why do you ask?’ Slider said warily.
‘Only, I’m sorry to say she’s died. She had a heart attack last night. A neighbour who had her key found her and called the ambulance, but she was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. The neighbour didn’t know who to call, but she found my card by the telephone, so she called me, and I called the station, and they thought you might know something more, seeing as you were interested in her.’
One problem solved, Slider thought, and another one unfolding. ‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about her daughter,’ he said circumspectly, ‘but Mrs Knight did have a sister.’
‘Oh,’ Vicky Rayner said, brightening, ‘well that would be a help. Can you give me her phone number?’
It was very tempting, the idea of having someone else break the bad news. But it was not the whole story, and he could not divulge that to this stranger. He knew, with a sinking of the heart, that he would have to do it himself, go and see Pat Bexley and tell her everything, because if he didn’t, it would haunt him afterwards.
So he said, ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll let her know myself. She’s in my area.’
‘Oh, well, that’s very good of you,’ said the woman, with an air of crossing it off her list. ‘There’ll be the remains to claim and a funeral to arrange. I suppose her sister will want to do that?’
‘I think it’s likely,’ Slider said.
He took Gascoyne with him. Not only had he had the previous contact with her, but Gascoyne had a shiningly honest face and the innate look of a favourite nephew. Slider didn’t tell him that – at his age you wanted to look tough and cool and Daniel Craigish. Gascoyne was just pleased to be singled out for the job.
Fortunately, Pat Bexley was past the age when many things make you cry. She listened composedly as Slider broke the news of Maggie’s death, and all she did when he had finished was to sigh. ‘I’m not too surprised, really, I was shocked when I saw how she’d aged. I went to see her, you know?’ she addressed Gascoyne. ‘After I spoke to you? She rang me, and I could hear how shaky her voice sounded, so I said right away could I come and see her, and I went the next day. I’m really glad now that I did. It’d’ve been awful if I’d put it off and she’d died before I could get there.’
‘I’m glad you were reconciled at the end,’ Slider said.
‘Well, I think we were both a bit ashamed, after all this time, letting something like that keep us apart, when there was only the two of us left. I mean, it all seemed a bit silly, when so much else had happened. So I said, “I’m sorry, Mags,” and she said, “I’m sorry too,” and we hugged and had a bit of a sniff and that was that.’ She touched a handkerchief delicately to her eye. ‘Oh dear, so I suppose there’ll be a funeral to arrange. And nobody but me left to arrange it. Poor Maggie. It makes you wonder, doesn’t it – I mean, who’ll there be for me, when my time comes?’
‘There’ll be no difficulties with your sister,’ Slider said, to get over the point. ‘You’ll just have to get in touch with the hospital – they’ll be able to help you through the paperwork.’
He saw in her bright eye that she had – unsurprisingly – made the association.
‘Speaking of which, when are poor Amanda’s remains going to be released? Because it will have to be me, now, won’t it, that arranges her funeral, now Maggie’s gone? And I’m thinking, what would be really nice would be to have them buried together – don’t you think? After being separated all that time, it would be a nice gesture if they could be together again in death.’
‘Ah,’ said Slider. ‘As a matter of fact, I have some news for you on that front. We took a DNA sample from your sister when we visited her, and compared it with the DNA from the remains. And it turns out that it wasn’t Amanda.’
‘What?’
There was a certain amount of astonishment, exclamation and disbelief to work through. ‘It must have been,’ she kept saying. ‘I mean, who else would be buried in their garden?’ But eventually she got to: ‘But – then – who on earth was it?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you much. It’s all sub-judice. It turns out to be another girl from the neighbourhood, a friend of Amanda’s.’
‘Oh my lord!’ Her eyes opened wide. ‘Another girl? You don’t mean – Ronnie wasn’t a serial killer, was he? No, I can’t believe that. Not Ronnie!’
‘Ronnie had nothing to do with it,’ Slider was glad to be able to tell her.
‘Oh dear, now I feel bad about suspecting him. Not that I ever did, not really. It was just, well, you think, who else could have done it? But what was this girl doing in Ron and Maggie’s garden?’
‘Again, I’m afraid I can’t tell you.’
‘And what about Amanda? That means she’s still missing, does it?’
‘No, she’s not missing.’ He saw painful hope chasing painful doubt across her face. Not missing – did that mean more remains had been found? When he saw she couldn’t ask, he said, ‘I’m sorry to tell you that she’s in custody. She’s suspected of having something to do with this other girl’s death.’
She sat back in her chair, her mouth open. ‘Well, that’s floored me,’ she said at last. ‘I don’t know what to say. You mean, Amanda’s been alive all this time? And never got in touch with any of us? Oh my good lord, poor Maggie! Dying without knowing Amanda was still alive.’
Gascoyne said quietly, ‘That might be just as well, in the circumstances.’
She stared at him. ‘You mean – you think she did it? Killed this other girl?’
&nbs
p; ‘I’m sorry, but we’re really not at liberty to tell you anything else at the moment,’ Slider said. ‘But I promise that as soon as we are, I will tell you the whole story.’
She was silent a moment. ‘Well, I suppose that’s the best you can do. You’ve got your job to do, so I won’t ask you any more questions and embarrass you. But tell me this – can I see her – Amanda?’
‘Again, not at present. I will let you know when you can.’ He rose to leave, and she got up too, though her mind was obviously busy elsewhere.
‘This other girl – the bones. I suppose her parents will be collecting her, when the time comes? I’d like to offer them my condolences.’
‘I’m afraid they’re dead. She doesn’t have any relatives.’
‘No relatives at all?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘Oh, that’s sad,’ she said with feeling. She followed them to the door, and as she saw them out, she said quietly to Slider, ‘What’s she like now? Amanda?’
What on earth could he tell her? In the end he said, ‘Not like you remember.’
By going-home time he had gone past sleepiness into the rather featureless zone of post-exhaustion, where colours were muted, reactions slowed and sounds, curiously, were magnified, hurting his ears. He was praying the phone wouldn’t ring when he was anywhere near it. Atherton popped his head round the door. ‘We’re going for a drink to celebrate. Coming?’
‘Celebrate?’ Slider said.
‘You can call it a wake if it helps. Boscombe Arms?’
‘All right. I’ll be about half an hour. Couple of things to wind up.’
‘Right. First pint’s on me – you look as though you need it. See you down there.’
He thought everyone had gone, but a little while later Connolly appeared at his door, looking faintly guilty.
‘Boss?’
‘What have you done?’
‘Not what I’ve done, what I’m doing.’ She held out an envelope. ‘It’s my resignation.’
He was taken aback. ‘What? Why?’ She started to summon words, and he said, ‘Come in, sit down. I thought you were happy here. What’s happened?’
She took Atherton’s perch, on the windowsill above the radiator, which had never worked in Slider’s tenure of the room. ‘I’ve had enough,’ she said.
‘Is there something I can do?’ he asked.
‘No, boss. It’s not you.’ She looked down at her hands and fiddled with a hangnail. ‘I’ve enjoyed working for you, I really have. It’s been a slice. I’m just burnt out. Me brains are mince. I’ve got to get out and do something else.’
‘It’s a terrible pity to give up your career. You’re a good copper. You could go far.’
‘I don’t want to go far,’ she said, looking up with a ghost of her old grin. ‘I’ve seen what that looks like! No, I’ve done being a gard, seen it all, got the T-shirt. Now I want a change.’
‘A change to what?’ Slider asked, still hoping he could find a chink and talk her round.
‘I keep thinking about those girls,’ she said. ‘I’ve never forgotten when I went to interview some of them at that home. I keep wanting to do something for them.’
‘Social work?’ Slider was surprised. ‘You don’t want to be a social worker. It’s the dog’s job after this.’
‘I know. They have terrible case loads and no time to put anything right. But I want to make a difference in someone’s life. You remember Julienne Adams?’
‘How could I forget?’
‘She wants me to foster her.’
Slider met her eyes, and realized this was something serious. He remembered Julienne’s mother’s funeral, and how the child had clung to Connolly. There had been a connection there.
‘Are you considering it?’ he asked quietly.
‘It needs a bit of thinking about,’ Connolly admitted. ‘I might get married,’ she said, and he couldn’t tell if this was part of what had gone before or a new tack.
‘Who’s the lucky man?’ he asked cautiously.
‘It’s no one you know.’
‘No, I remember you said you’d never date anyone in the Job.’
‘You see,’ she said, restlessly sliding to her feet, ‘if I did try and do something for Julienne, I’d have to get a job with regular hours. I’d have to be around for her.’
‘Any ideas?’ Slider asked.
‘Private security – consultancy, I mean, not walking about with a dog. I can earn a hell of a lot more doing that, and choose me own hours. I’ll be on the pig’s back.’
‘So all this – leaving – is for Julienne’s sake?’
‘Not all,’ she said. ‘It’s for me, too. I can’t keep looking at the woeful end of life and keep me sanity. I’ve got to get out while I can.’
‘Well, it’s your decision, but I shall be very sorry to lose you,’ Slider said. ‘I won’t tell you to think carefully before you do anything because I know you will.’
She nodded. ‘There’s one more thing. When I tell you, you might be glad I’m going.’
‘Go on,’ he said warily.
‘It was me told Shannon Bailey to go to the press.’ He could only stare. ‘I know we’re not supposed to, but I was mad as fire about the whole thing. You’d been suspended, and I knew they were going to drop the whole thing. So I thought, if the press get hold of it, they’ll have to do something.’
Slider managed to say, ‘You were right there.’
‘There was this girl I knew from back home, in Dublin. We went to different schools together. She went into journalism. She was brilliant. She was on the Irish Times, then she went to New York for a couple of years, and she’d just come back. We’d got together for a drink, and I talked to her about Kaylee Adams and the girls, and she said if I put her in touch with Shannon she’d run with it and make it happen. So I did.’
‘Oh, Connolly!’
She went on: ‘I’m sorry now I did, and not only because it came to nothing in the end, and not only because I let you down, boss. But because I know now what it did to Shannon. It put her through stuff she never needed to go through. I just made her life harder. But it’s all over now, and I want to make it up to someone. Julienne’s just at the age when she could go either way.’
‘Do you have any idea what you’d be taking on?’ Slider heard himself say in a faint voice.
She grinned. ‘Oh, I think I do. I’ve nephews and nieces and a million cousins, and they’re all hyperactive. Ten minutes with any of ’em and you’re setting your hair on fire!’ The grin disappeared. ‘But the other thing, boss – I’m really sorry. Can you forgive me?’
It was all history now, and curiously irrelevant in his world of fatigue. He was glad to know definitively that it had not been Atherton, and slightly ashamed that he had suspected him. His life would be easier now that he could relax in Atherton’s and Emily’s company. Beyond that, he felt nothing.
‘Tell me you’re not leaving the Job so as to avoid being disciplined for leaking,’ he said with mock severity.
She clapped a hand to her head. ‘Found me out! I should never try and fool a grand detective like yourself, sir.’
‘Enough of your cheek.’ He waved her away. ‘Get on down the pub.’
‘Are you coming, boss?’
‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ he said.
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