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The Detective's Daughter

Page 46

by Lesley Thomson


  Jack and Stella stood on the spot where Ivan Challoner had murdered Kate Rokesmith because she would not leave her husband for him.

  St Peter’s Church clock struck quarter past eleven when they climbed the Bell Steps. They passed Sarah Glyde’s house on Hammersmith Terrace and the Ram Inn on Black Lion Lane. They descended into the subway; the return journey that Kate never made. On the north side of the Great West Road they strolled up the ramp and between the bushes to the Leaning Woman. Sunlight through the trees splashed over her pitted surface, making the lines that represented the butcher’s jointing invisible.

  The earth around the plinth was soft from the rain, and Jack scrabbled at it, his hands quickly muddy. He made little headway. Stella found a beer can amongst leaf mould under the hedge; crushed in the middle it might work as a trowel.

  ‘Use this.’

  Jack flung off his coat and a tattered paperback fell to the ground. Stella gathered it up. It was his London street atlas. She flicked through: every page had been scrawled with ballpoint.

  ‘Did you write these letters?’

  ‘They’re not letters, they’re journeys. I told you, they helped me find Challoner.’

  ‘What do they spell?’ Stella wished Jack would not be like this and fanned the pages, the letters flashing by.

  Jack cleared loose soil from his hole.

  ‘This is a “C” and that’s an “I” in front and again after. This could be a lower case “e”.’ She leafed back three pages. ‘That’s an “L”. Lice. Add this “A” and it’s “Alice”.’ She shut the book. She was getting carried away with Jack’s signs. Much of Jack was a mystery and really she should not encourage him.

  ‘Why are you digging?’ She had put off asking.

  ‘I’m bequeathing my amulet to the Woman for good luck.’

  ‘Why don’t you keep it?’

  ‘The Woman needs luck more than me, that’s how it works.’ Jack pushed earth back into the hole covering the lump of green glass, working quickly, tamping it down with his palms. He jumped up and jigged about on the patch, stamping on it.

  ‘Mine or yours for hot milk with honey?’ He did a skip. ‘Tea for you.’

  ‘Mine’s nearer.’

  Kate Rokesmith’s son and Terry Darnell’s daughter walked in companionable silence between the budding cherry trees to the end terrace house in Rose Gardens North. Stella rubbed mud off her shoes on the squirrel scraper and slipped her key in the lock. Tugging on the letter box, she opened the front door.

  Acknowledgements

  I have many to thank for their time and support. Several people gave thought to my research questions. I would like to offer special thanks to: Detective Superintendent Stephen Cassidy of the Metropolitan Police for his generous help. When sharing his knowledge Steve considered the context of my characters; this made his information invaluable. However, any perceived inaccuracies are all mine. Francis Pacifico of the London Underground who shared with me his experience of daily life as a driver on the District Line. Ann Laker of Transport for London for arranging the special morning I spent travelling up and down between Ealing Broadway and Upminster in Frank’s cab, which confirmed my love of London’s underground transit system. I spent many blissful hours in the Hammersmith and Fulham Archives journeying into the past; indeed, losing all sense of the present. Staff were helpful and informed. This is a wonderful resource: for writers, but also for residents of the borough and of London. Dr Harriet Wood for her considered help with vital medical information and for ‘fact checking’ the fiction. Any residual errors are mine. And to Lisa Holloway and Melanie Lockett for their forensic reading and excellent feedback.

  I am extremely grateful for the loan of solitary spaces in lovely parts of the country in which to write. A big thank you to: Debra Daley; Kay and Nigel Heather; Liz and Kathryn Reed; Margaret and Ivan Roitt.

  I would like to thank: Juliet Eve; Alex Geldart; Marcus Goodwin and specifically Greg Mosse.

  My warm thanks goes to my agent, Philippa Brewster, who is a joy to work with; to all at Capel and Land, particularly Georgina Capel and Romilly Must. And thanks to my editor, Laura Palmer, whose feel and commitment to the story made the editorial process such a pleasure; to the great team at Head of Zeus, particularly Becci Sharpe and Clemence Jacquinet; thanks to Richenda Todd for her gimlet-eyed copy-editing and to Jane Robertson for her all-encompassing proof-reading.

  Reviews

  Reviews for A Kind of Vanishing

  “Skilfully evokes the era and slow-moving childhood summers… A study of memory and guilt with several twists.”

  —Guardian

  “Tense and gripping… On the edge of my seat? No way – I was cowering under it.”

  —Shotsmag

  “A thoughtful, well-observed story… It reminded me of Kate Atkinson.”

  —Scott Pack

  “Lesley Thomson is a class above”

  —Ian Rankin

  About the Author

  Lesley Thomson has a BA from Brighton University and an MA from Sussex University. She published A Kind of Vanishing in 2007. Lesley teaches on Greg Mosse’s MA programme at West Dean College. She lives in Lewes with her partner.

  About Head of Zeus

  We hope you enjoyed this book.

  We are Head of Zeus, a brand new publishing house dedicated to new authors, great storytelling, and fabulous ideas.

  To find your next read – and some tempting special offers – why not visit our website?

  Copyright

  First published in the UK in 2013 by Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Lesley Thomson, 2013

  The moral right of Lesley Thomson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  9 7 5 3 1 2 4 6 8

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN (HB) 9781908800244

  ISBN (XTPB) 9781908800251

  ISBN (E) 9781781853177

  Printed in Germany.

  Head of Zeus Ltd

  Clerkenwell House

  45-47 Clerkenwell Green

  London EC1R 0HT

  www.headofzeus.com

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