Youre getting bitter, Josephine. Stop it.
The bank details came last, and then, when the printouts were signed, they set a tentative date for the hormone infusion. Jo knew shed have to check her shifts and told them shed be in touch. She was glad to be out of there, stepping onto a quiet mews street in the shadow of the cathedral. Though in the shade, the summer air was warm. She guessed the cottage would once have held a member of the clerical staff. Now the only sign it was a commercial property was the discreet Bright Futures plaque beside the listed front door.
She checked her phone and saw nine missed calls, all from Ben.
It was almost eleven. Shed blocked out three hours for the meeting, saying she was taking her mother to the doctors in Oxford, so she still had forty-five minutes before she was due back at the station for the weekend briefing. It was Pauls birthday party that night and she still hadnt got him a present, though she knew exactly the thing. Her brother, like their dad before him, had started balding in his early thirties, and Bath was the sort of city that still had gentlemens outfitters. A quick Google had given her a promising place off Wallford Street. She walked across the cobbles, then stepped out into the throng.
Bath was never quiet, of course, but Friday lunchtime in the summer holidays was pretty close to Jos idea of hell. An engine of commerce. Tourists jostling with street performers, gaggles of teenagers up to nothing. Workers mostly Europeans and South Americans on breaks from jobs at hotels. People spilling out of cafes, bars and shops. And here and there, the citys true denizens Jos bread and butter. The drug addicts, leaning towards their next fix. The pickpockets, swimming with the tides. The petty criminals who existed in every city; the grit in the machine.
Jo fought through the pedestrians outside the Assembly Rooms before slipping off into a narrower alley, a row of bikes chained up against a set of railings. She found the hat place, and though at first she thought it must be closed, when she pushed the door, it opened, a bell above her clanking. A small, very elderly man with luxuriant white hair and a stoop looked up from behind a counter.
Good day to you, he said.
Jo smiled at the unexpected chivalry, but just as she was about to speak, her phone rang again. This time the vibration was different.
Excuse me! she said, and she backed out of the shop to take the call.
Why arent you answering? said Rob Bridges, her DCI back at the station. Bens been trying for the last hour.
It took Jo a moment to gain her composure. With my mum, she said. Its in the diary.
Bridges breathed a sigh. Fine, can you talk?
Whats up?
Weve got a body. Bradford-on-Avon. A kid.
Jo looked at
her reflection in the window of the shop, swallowed. Go on.
Thames Valley have already sent someone, but I want you there.
Why Thames Valley?
Something to do with identifying features. They think its one of their mispers.
Text me the address, said Jo. Ill call when Im on my way.
She hung up. Pauls present could wait.
* * *
It took Jo three minutes to get back to her car, another seven to get out of the car park. She plugged in the address as she did so, but it looked like it was the middle of a random field. Bradford-on-Avon was a well-to-do market town about five miles out from Bath all Cotswold stone and shops she could never afford. The sort of place her mum wouldve liked to spend an afternoon, before her world shrank to the four walls of a room in a residential care home. As soon as she was out of traffic, her phone rang again. Ben. This time she answered on the hands-free.
Im on my way, she said.
So whats wrong with your mum? No pleasantries.
Yknow, Jo replied airily. Whats right with her? Shes old. I took her to the doctors.
Really? When you didnt answer, I rang the home looking for you. Shes there. Youre not. They couldnt remember the last time youd visited.
Dammit.
You should have called me on the station line.
He didnt answer for a few seconds, then said, more softly, Can we talk later?
Jos hands tightened on the wheel. Theres nothing to talk about.
Its been months, Jo. We cant just avoid the subject forever.
There is no subject, she said. Thats how breaking up works. Put Rob on.
Hes already on his way as well.
Well, you fill me in then.
Ben gathered himself and gave her the details. A skeleton had been unearthed in the grounds of a derelict house off the Frome Road. Theyd found a body by the pumping house of the drained pool. From the size, it could only be a child.
Any idea when the pool was put in? asked Jo. The satnav said shed be there in twenty-one minutes.
Were looking into it still trying to track the owners of the house. Its been a wreck for eighteen months. Electrical fault caused a fire, apparently.
So what makes them think its an Oxford misper?
Theres clothing that matches an old file, said Ben. A Liverpool football club shirt.
Jos foot touched the brake involuntarily, and the BMW behind beeped as it drove up into her rear-view mirror.