Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(36)
The girl cried for a little longer, and Jackman became conscious of her father waiting anxiously outside her door. At least he had the good sense not to enter.
They left some ten minutes later, convinced that there really was another young victim out there somewhere, waiting for them to find her. But would they find her alive?
*
As the car sped back towards the station, Jackman said, ‘I hope I’m right, but my housekeeper generally leaves me some hot food when we are busy. Want to share?’
Marie had heard about Mrs Maynard’s legendary home-cooked dishes, and her stomach grumbled. ‘I’d love to, if you’re sure.’
‘Excellent.’ He gave her a little smile, ‘Although it’ll probably be the first time she’s forgotten. But no worry, M&S is lurking in my freezer waiting for emergencies.’
He turned the car off the main road and headed towards Cartoft. ‘It will give us a chance to plan tonight and talk over what we’ve just heard from Toni.’
‘And in nicer surroundings than the nick.’
Marie loved Jackman’s windmill home, it felt so welcoming. She would give her eye teeth for a place like that. Bill would have loved it. She could imagine him out in the old store, working patiently on some ancient motorcycle engine. She gave an inadvertent sigh.
‘You okay? Not worrying about Rosie again, are you?’
‘No, just a little nudge from the past. Sometimes things creep up on you when you least expect it.’
‘Bill?’
She nodded. ‘I know it’s pointless, but when someone dies too soon, when they are still young, you can’t help wondering how they would have turned out.’ She rubbed her hands together thoughtfully. ‘I try to imagine what he would have made of things — modern policing, all the new technology, like cars that park themselves and phones that operate your central heating.’ She laughed softly. ‘He was a bit of a technophobe really. I think that’s why he loved old motor bikes so much. He liked things that smelled of oil that you could tinker with and coax back to life. Plugging your car into a computerised diagnostic reader didn’t do it for him at all. And I really don’t think he would approve of having your parcels delivered by drone.’
Jackman nodded. ‘I feel a bit the same. I mean I love how science has given us ways to solve crimes so much quicker, and the advances in medical science are undeniable, but I think my heart is happiest with the simpler things.’
Marie brushed away her thoughts of the past when she realised that they were turning into the lane leading to his home.
‘Fingers crossed that Mrs M. has worked some magic in my kitchen.’ He grinned at her. ‘And I don’t think a small restorative glass of wine would go amiss either.’
He pulled up under the car port, turned the engine off and flung open the door. ‘Can you smell cooking?’
Marie stepped out and inhaled. ‘I’m getting a distinct whiff of curry. Is there an Indian restaurant in Cartoft?’
‘There is nothing in Cartoft, and I mean nothing, other than the church and the village hall, so that bodes very well.’
Together they hurried over to the mill.
The smell of aromatic spices greeted them at the door.
‘Oh yes!’ Jackman’s eyes lit up. ‘It won’t be like anything you’d find in a curry house. Mrs M. doesn’t use recipes, she just does her own thing.’ He led the way through to the kitchen, picked up a note from the table and read it out.
“Chicken curry keeping hot in the small oven, and there’s some of that foreign bread stuff that you like in a tray under foil. Heat it for a few minutes. Don’t forget the gardener’s coming on Thursday to do the hedges. Hetty.”
Marie smiled. ‘I’d like a Mrs M. Do you rent her out?’
‘She’s worth her weight in gold, believe me.’ Jackman took off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair. ‘Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the wine while the naan bread is warming.’ He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Chardonnay. ‘I have no idea why, but for some reason it’s perfect with chicken curry.’
‘It better not be too nice, or we’ll have to call off tonight’s sortie.’
‘Don’t worry. I’m rationing it.’ He splashed wine into two glasses, replaced the top and returned the bottle to the fridge.
A few minutes later, he was dishing the food into two large bowls and putting the hot bread on a plate between them. ‘Dig in and enjoy.’
As they ate they talked about Toni and the worrying things she had said. If Emily was a migrant worker, tracing her would be difficult given the tight knit community that she would live in. After a while, Marie added, ‘I know we have the Windrush search to contend with tomorrow, but we mustn’t forget that we have to go and talk to the residents of Allenby Creek.’ She finished the last mouthful then said, ‘Surely someone must have seen something? It’s such an out of the way spot, you’d think a strange car or someone you don’t recognise would stand out.’
‘Let’s hope we find someone who uniform missed on their house-to-house.’ Jackman stood up and collected the plates,‘ Oh dear, how time flies. Thanks, Mrs M. Much appreciated.’
‘I’ll second that.’ Marie smiled at him. ‘About tonight, I feel quite . . .’ She paused.