Jack took Maggie by the hand and walked her upstairs. Once in the bedroom, she became clumsily amorous, trying to remove his shirt, catching it on his nose as she yanked it off over his head. ‘Now you undress me.’ She dropped onto the bed and lay back. Jack knew she was trying to be sexy, but as he took her skirt and tights off her flailing, unruly legs, he couldn’t help but think that this was akin to changing Hannah’s nappy! By the time he’d thrown Maggie’s clothes across the room towards the linen basket, she was asleep. He swung her legs onto the bed, her head onto the pillow and covered her with his half of the duvet. He then tipped the contents of the plastic wastepaper bin onto the carpet and put it next to the bed in case she woke in the middle of the night and reached for something to be sick into. He stood looking down at his lovely drunk wife-to-be — and realised how quiet it was.
Penny stood in the nursery, rocking from foot to foot with Hannah asleep on her shoulder. She was staring at the photo of Charlie on the walclass="underline" Jack had put it up before Hannah was born, so that his dad could watch over his daughter in the night. ‘I should probably move out, darling.’ Penny’s words came as a total shock. ‘You’ll be a proper family soon. I can’t live in your attic forever.’
‘We’re already a proper family,’ Jack said. Penny lowered her eyes and Jack knew she was crying. He turned her to face him, shaking his head as if he had no clue why she didn’t understand. ‘This is your home, Mum.’
Chapter 22
Jack and Maggie only really kept coffee in the house for visitors because she disliked the taste of it, even on Jack’s lips when he kissed her. This morning, however, the smell of strong coffee coming up the stairs was exactly what she needed. Maggie could also hear the welcome sound of paracetamol tablets bursting through foil and held out her hand as Jack dropped two into her palm. She crunched them up without lifting her head. ‘Are you meant to chew them?’ Jack asked. Maggie said that the only risk from chewing was that it released the drug more quickly into her system, which was exactly what she needed. Jack told Maggie that her coffee and toast was on the bedside cabinet, then he began getting ready for work.
After about ten minutes, Maggie’s head started to feel a little better, so she sat up. She looked around the bedroom. Her clothes from last night were on the floor next to the washing basket. Why could Jack not walk across the room and open the lid? She saw the lipstick on his shirt and a memory came flooding back. ‘Did I see Tania here last night?’
‘She was demanding to talk to you.’ Jack turned to Maggie, so she could see how serious he was feeling about this topic. But her eyes had closed again. ‘This has to stop, Mags. If there’s a next time, I’ll have her arrested. Hannah was downstairs and could have been hurt.’ Maggie’s eyes jolted open and she squinted in pain at the sunlight coming in through a gap in the blinds. ‘Tania threw coffee across the kitchen. She’s volatile.’
Maggie reached for her now-tepid coffee and swigged it down. The deep furrows around her make-up-smeared eyes, showed she’d got the message loud and clear, and was now figuring out how to handle Dr Elliot Wetlock.
In the kitchen, everything from the worktop was on the table and Penny was wiping the last of the coffee off the wall tiles. She heard Jack walk into the room behind her. ‘When you sweep up broken crockery, darling, always vacuum as well. The tiny bits could get into Hannah’s little knees.’ Jack apologised for not cleaning up properly. ‘And I’ll make sure Maggie’s up and about by eight. Luckily she’s got a ten o’clock start.’
Jack asked if they’d had a nice time. ‘Oh, she had a wonderful time.’ Penny threw the coffee-stained cloth into the kitchen bin and started to move everything back to where it belonged. ‘Regina sang — what’s the word, you know... she sang on her own, no musicians — in front of the whole restaurant. She’s just stunning. And so brave. And I got the chef’s recipe for tarragon glazed carrots. So, I’ll do those tonight.’
Jack was glad that his mum no longer sounded worried about her place in his home. As he headed for the front door, she shouted after him, ‘A cappella!’
When Jack entered the squad room, Ridley was already in his office, door open, organising a file for the morning’s briefing. The two men nodded to each other and Jack headed for his desk. ‘Anik’s staying in Amsterdam for another couple of days,’ Ridley shouted. ‘Trying to get more on Andre Boogaard. You’re thinking he may be Adam Border’s father?’ Jack walked into the doorway of Ridley’s office and leant against the frame. ‘His old landlord told Anik that he thought Adam was Dutch, so you might be right, Jack. I’ve got Anik Zooming into the briefing this morning to hand over everything from his interview with Jessica’s parents.’
As the team filed into the squad room behind Jack, Ridley gathered his file and stood. He had a look of frustrated discontent on his face, reminiscent of the man he was months ago, before his decline into apathy which Jack now knew was due to his ill-health. ‘The elusive Adam Border seems to be the son of a drug-dealing mother, and the boyfriend of an art-thieving girlfriend. Both of whom are now dead. We must find him, Jack. We’re starting to look incompetent.’
Ridley walked past Jack and started the briefing. Jack smiled. The old Ridley was back.
The first half of the briefing was led by an increasingly enthusiastic and annoyingly arrogant Anik on camera. He got the team up to speed regarding all of the new information he’d turned up in Amsterdam — namely the stolen Rossetti and Adam Border’s possible birth name. He revelled in having all eyes on him. The team knew he’d be bloody unbearable when he got back but, conversely, they also felt an odd communal pride that their little boy was finally growing up.
The second half of the briefing centred around the team’s shaky relationship with the Drug Squad. Ridley was doing his best to play second-fiddle to Steve Lewis, but it didn’t come naturally. The truth was that as the best DCI in the Met, Ridley would never have rolled over so easily under normal circumstances, and now his decision was coming back to bite him.
‘I’m going to see Steve Lewis this morning, as he’s not volunteering much without being asked. We have now been sent the video footage showing the prelim to the murder of Avril Jenkins. Go through it with a fine-tooth comb. We need to identify those men. And the man who arrived in the Jag. A Jag driver cropped up at Avril’s funeral, Jason Marks, but we don’t know if they’re one and the same. Mike Tulley from Steve’s team followed Marks away from Avril’s funeral, but we have no idea what came of that. I’ll find out about that too. Anything else I need to get from Drug Squad?’
The question, which was directed at the room in general, was met with a sea of shaking heads. Ridley brought the briefing to an end and returned to his office. Jack followed him.
‘Sir, on the list of items Avril Jenkins reported stolen to Kingston nick there was a Rossetti painting.’
‘And you think it’s the same Rossetti mentioned by Jessica Chi’s parents?’
‘I think it’s at least worth a conversation with Arnold Hutchinson.’ Ridley told Jack to hand that conversation to Laura, as he should stay with the task of tracking Adam Border. ‘Sir, this is about tracking Adam Border. He’s the one Avril accused of stealing it, and Jessica is the one seen in possession of it. If it proves to be the same painting, of course.’
Ridley rubbed his forehead. ‘Jack, pace is important in this case. You’re not the only one who can interview people, you know.’ Ridley looked up and could see that Jack really didn’t want to delegate this particular interview. ‘Fine. You speak to Hutchinson.’