‘Right now, Tennison, we are waiting for as much information as we can get from old Professor Johnson who, as I am sure you know, is very diligent... but he likes to take his time. All we have to date is that our victim is between twenty to twenty-five years old, and she possibly starved to death. Our priority now is that we get her identified because Johnson estimates she has been down in that shelter for five years at least. This is also reinforced by the cinema ticket they found in a pocket, but it might have been there for God knows how long.’
‘Well, hopefully mispers will have some information on a missing woman,’ Jane suggested. ‘The pathologist hasn’t had time to estimate how long the baby has been in the shelter, but Emra, who was at the lab when I went there, felt that it could have been put there many years earlier. She also said there was no visible signs that the woman had ever been pregnant or had a child.’
Carter sighed again. ‘Many years earlier... well, there’s nothing we can do about any identification. As I said before, our priority is getting information on the adult female. I’d like you to focus on that until we have any further information regarding the second body.’
He dismissed Jane by returning to his typewriter. Frustrated by Carter’s lack of interest in what she’d discovered in the bunker and feeling that her first day at Stockwell station was going swiftly downhill, Jane went up to the canteen to grab something to eat. Whilst she was there, DC Taylor came over to her table.
‘The sarge has just checked on Mr Forgham’s whereabouts. It’s not good news. He was murdered five years ago. We’re getting the details up, along with some press reports.’
‘You would have thought the tenant who was questioned would have mentioned it,’ she said, the news not improving her mood. But anyway, get me the criminal reports and case file that’ll be at the general registry archives on the murder and find out if Mr Forgham was married and if he had a family.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Taylor said, leaving Jane to eat a tasteless tuna salad.
It was after six and Jane was closeted in her office catching up on the information about Brian Forgham. He had no criminal record and had been married with one daughter. On his release from the army he had worked at various different security positions. Eight years ago he was employed full time by the owner of the Stockwell property as a maintenance man, and to make sure there were no subletters or squatters using the empty basement. The previous owner was listed as a Jason Thorpe, who lived in Australia and had sold the property when all tenants had left eighteen months ago. Jane also now had the name of Jason Thorpe’s lawyer, a Mr Arnold Hadley, of Hadley & March. It had been Hadley who had given the team the information regarding Jason Thorpe.
Jane typed up her notes and then, checking the time, decided she should go home. There was a brisk knock on her door and DCI Carter, wearing a fashionable Burberry raincoat, looked in.
‘I’m off. We’re still waiting for Johnson’s report and until there’s any development from missing persons, it’s just a lot of tedious interviews.’
‘I’d like to see if I can trace the widow of someone called Brian Forgham,’ Jane said. ‘He took care of all the flats and tenants and—’
‘Well, he’s no use,’ Carter interrupted. ‘He’s been dead five years. Didn’t you get the information from records? He was killed outside a pub in Stockwell by a drug dealer called Simon Root who is still serving time in Wandsworth. Two witnesses saw the attack, so it was done and dusted pretty quickly.’
He shrugged his shoulders.
‘I have a nasty feeling that this is going to be one of those bloody cases that takes up hours of time tracking down Christ knows how many people who lived in that house. And I’ve got the new owners calling me up all the time asking when they can finish the demolition.’ He gave a strained laugh. ‘I don’t want you going back there and digging up any more bodies. Just crack on with the paperwork and I’ll see you in the morning.’ He walked out.
Jane gathered up her notes and put on her coat, which still smelled of the shelter. She was heading into the incident room as the night officers were all coming in and she really didn’t feel like either introducing herself or checking for updates. She logged her report and was about to leave when Barbara, wearing a cherry red coat with a wide velvet trim, waved a sheet of notepaper towards her.
‘Detective Tennison, apparently you wanted to question Brian Forgham’s widow? We have an address for her, but no phone number. Would you like me to try and get you a phone number for tomorrow?’
‘That would be very useful, Barbara, thank you. I’ll take the address, though.’
She was feeling guilty about being irritated by Barbara for no good reason. The truth was she was feeling frustrated that her hopes of making a good first impression seemed to have failed.
When Jane arrived home, it was dark. As she walked up the path to her front door a security light came on and she was able to see clearly to put the key in the lock. She smiled, deciding that this Eddie Fraser was a good find. But when she walked into the hall she quickly changed her mind as the carpets had been pulled up and some floorboards had been lifted, forcing her to step gingerly around them.
She hung her coat up and went into the kitchen. It was in an appalling state. The sink had been pulled out from the wall, and tiles had been removed. On the bright side, a note by the washing machine said that it had been plumbed in, and she could see there were new pipes and a recently cemented wall section for the flue.
Pinned to the back door was a note from the plumber saying that he had completed the installation of the washing machine but needed to find new pipes for behind her sink unit. He would be back the following day.
Jane looked in the fridge and checked the sell-by date on a quiche, then opened a bottle of wine. She had just finished a glass when the doorbell rang. Jane made her way through the obstacle course to the front door. When she opened it there stood Eddie, holding a large cardboard box.
‘Sorry to disturb you so late,’ he said with a smile, ‘but I’ve brought the piping that Archie needs, and some tiles for you to approve.’
Jane swallowed her annoyance at the state of the house and returned his smile. ‘That’s all right. I’ve only just got in from work.’
‘I’m really sorry to have left this in such a mess,’ he said as he followed her into the kitchen. ‘The thing is, I have major concerns about the wiring through to your hallway. That dimmer switch had been put in incorrectly and kept tripping the hall electrics. I had to go out and get a modern dimmer and delay working in the kitchen so Archie could get your washing machine plumbed in. I think most of the problems with the wiring in the kitchen are due to leakage behind your sink unit, which has probably been going on for years.’
Jane felt she needed another glass of wine and offered one to Eddie.
‘Thanks, but I’ve got to get back home to finish a little job.’
‘You work long hours,’ Jane said.
‘Yeah, I do now I’ve taken on your job. The other few bits and pieces I’ve put on the backburner, but I still need to complete them. It will take me a few days here, if that’s all right with you. If you pick the tiles you want to put up behind the sink, Archie and I will work on that in the morning.’
Jane watched as he put the large box down by the back door. ‘If it’s easier for you, I don’t mind you working in the evening to get things done as soon as possible.’
‘OK,’ Eddie said. ‘Let me see how I get on tomorrow.’ He paused. ‘Did you have a good day?’ he asked, surprising her with the change of subject.
‘Not really,’ Jane admitted. ‘It’s definitely been a long one. A woman’s body was found in an old air-raid shelter. It was a bit shocking because she had been chained to the bed, and now we have to try and find out who did it and why.’