Shadow Over Edmund Street by Suzanne Frankham (read a book .TXT) 📕

it what she liked, an Italian soap opera or Scottish stubbornness but his days of giving in to Bridget for the sake of peace were done.

DAY 8

The phone calls started coming in at about one in the morning.

‘Not much luck, Boss.’ That was from Jerry. ‘I’ll drive the route again, hope for some inspiration, but …’

‘Nothing, Sir. It’s not a park-up spot for sure,’ said one of the group of ‘lovers’.

‘Nothing yet, Sir,’ said another, ‘but we’ll stay another hour or so, you never know.’ The young constable sounded enthusiastic and Alex wondered what was going on in the car.

‘Well, Alex,’ Marion said yawning down the phone, ‘I’ll talk to you about it on Monday, but it’s hard to see anything has happened in the laboratory tonight as you know … causative.’

Causative, Alex thought. Causative! What a word. That was the truth of it. They were searching for a cause and effect link but the damned thing, if it was there and this wasn’t a random hijack, was so slender as to be almost invisible.

At half past two, still clutching the phone, Alex dropped off to sleep. A miserable affair in which Bridget leading a group of horses and skiers was chased by two tall shadowy vampires dripping blood.

* Gemma dragged Alex out of bed for a run, just after daybreak. He put on a brave face, hid his exhaustion from a night fighting off phantoms and the bottle and a half of cabernet he’d drunk. It was a clear morning, promising to be a sunny day. Gemma was bursting with energy. She was young, fast and strong, leaving Alex struggling to keep up. He was pleased when Dog sat down on the pavement and barked, no more. Gemma laughed, Alex bent over, panting. In the end they jogged down to the park and ran around the running track. The dog sprawled under a tree and ignored them, and on the way home he plodded up the hill, head down and tail between his legs.

Gemma laughed. ‘Honestly Dad, this dog practically talks. Come on, not far to go.’

‘You go on ahead. Dog and I, we’ll walk.’

He watched as she turned and picked up her long easy stride as if she had never stopped. ‘Thank you Dog for saving me,’ he said, massaging the small of his back. ‘Two dog biscuits for you when we get home.’

Clare had blueberry pancakes waiting in the kitchen and a bowl of water for the dog. Amazed, Alex turned from one girl to the other in wonder.

‘Don’t worry Dad. It won’t be like this for long,’ Gemma said grinning, as she closed the door into the bathroom and Alex was reminded of the reality of living with two teenagers.

Thank God, he thought to himself, I put in two bathrooms.

DAY 9

Monday morning meeting. Alex was tired, fed up. The feeling in the room was dismal. The pervasive atmosphere of defeat clung to them all. Everyone was quiet except for one pair of ‘lovers’ who had taken Saturday night’s role-playing too seriously. They were downright sparky, too happy with life.

The reports were all negative. No one had anything to add. Nine days ago Edwina had gone to work, dressed in a navy-blue trouser suit with a navy blue hand-knitted jumper under a jacket. The outfit had been brightened by a large scarf. She had worked a normal shift. There had been no unusual phone calls, no unusual emails, no unusual conversations, no unusual anything. Edwina had left as normal at the end of her shift. Half an hour later she had been strangled by her own scarf. A scarf that had vanished except for ten fibres embedded deep in the wound.

Jerry was taking it the hardest. In the eight days he had been investigating Parks Pathology, he had come up with nothing. ‘There’s got to be something in the place,’ he said to Alex after the others left. ‘Has to be. I’m going to put in one of the young guys. Brent. Fresh eyes and all. I know him from rugby. Pretty sharp. Worth a couple of days for him to go over it again.’

Marion slipped out as soon as the meeting ended, to make sure she caught Edwina’s coffee group. One last try. Alex and Jerry were left alone in the incident room drawing up two calendars. One documented Edwina’s daily activities, hour by hour, and the other documented Edwina’s life in the last three years. It was all they could do.

* The day dragged on. The single bright spot was Marion who reported the coffee group had decided Edwina had been very quiet on both the Monday and Tuesday mornings. On Wednesday she’d skipped coffee altogether. Very unlike her they had agreed. It was so little to go on, but it supported the idea of a planned meeting. A meeting that had Edwina worried.

The news got worse. The forensic accountants met Alex after lunch. ‘We’ll put it all in the report, but so far everything’s kosher. The house sale was solid, investments were a-okay, same with Parks Pathology. We’ll keep digging into the business because there are some aspects of government subsidies for equipment that are difficult to navigate, but so far everything’s good. Sorry, mate. Nothing.’

Alex went hunting for Jerry again. ‘Please tell me something, a tiny crumb about anything off at Parks Pathology. What about the owner? Give me something.’

‘I’ve already told you Alex, I’ve found nothing. Give Brent a couple of days, he might see something I missed. And the owner? Well, Mei Nguyen runs the company but she’s a joint owner with her husband. You must have heard of him, Gordon Nguyen?’

‘No, why would I have heard of him? What’s he done wrong?’

‘Nothing. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of him. He’s the surgeon who was in a car accident, lost the use of his fingers. About five years ago. Started up the pathology practice afterwards. He’s a bloody hero. Did an operation on conjoined twins. Was driving home when he had an