23 Southey Road, Oxford
Downstairs, Sam can hear the sound of voices. Her sons, and Harry, who's having the usual skirmish getting them into coats and hats and mittens. They're going to the Christingle service at St Margaret's. She'd asked Michael if he wanted to come too but he said it would be hypocritical. He doesn't believe in God. `Not a God that behaves like this one, anyway.' He had an odd look in his eyes as he said it and she hadn't pushed him, though she has no idea what he meant. He's been like this for days. Not just pre-occupied but watchful. Watching. But now, at least, he can't. She's alone. She needs to be. For this. She doesn't want him getting even the slightest hint of it.
She locks the bathroom door and gets the packet out from where she hid it under the clean towels. Her cycle has been off the last few months and she doesn't really think there's any chance `“ after all, she and Michael have hardly even `“
She puts the plastic stick on the shelf and turns away, willing herself not to fixate on it. She washes her hands and applies hand cream, then checks her make-up in the mirror.
There's the sound of feet on the landing outside, and Zachary starts banging on the door. `Mummy! Mummy! Where are you?'
She reaches for the stick. `I'll be out in a second, sweet pea.'
When she comes down the stairs ten minutes later her face is so white Harry asks if she's seen a ghost. She gives a bitter little laugh. `The ghost of Christmas future, you mean?'
`You sure you're OK?' he says then, unsettled by her tone. `I can take them on my own if you don't feel up to it.'
She shakes her head. `No, I'm fine. Just something I need to sort out.'
Twenty minutes later I'm back upstairs in the incident room.
`So this bloke that Davy whatsisname was seeing is the same one Michael Esmond was calling at the back end of last year?' It's Gislingham, still processing what I've just told them.
`The one Esmond logged in his phone as `њHarry`ќ. That's right. His full name is Harry Brown.'
`And they're definitely one and the same person?'
`No question. It's the identical mobile number.'
`Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the phone, boss,' says Quinn quickly. `I've been looking at that footage again `“ the CCTV from Brighton station. I didn't notice it before but when Esmond comes back for the train just before six he's got something with him he didn't have when he arrived.'
`Which was?'
`A carrier bag. From Carphone Warehouse.'
He stops, waiting for the reaction he knows he's going to get.
`What,' says Baxter, `Esmond bought himself another phone? That afternoon?'
Quinn nods. `So then I had another look at Harry's phone records. He got a call the night of the fire from another pay-as-you-go mobile. It was just after nine o'clock. And while he was in Oxford, the caller was somewhere near Haywards Heath.'
He doesn't need to spell it out. It was Esmond, stuck on a train behind the derailment. Desperate, for reasons we still don't understand, to speak to Harry. So desperate, in fact, that he bought another phone rather than waiting to see if his was handed in. And whatever those reasons were, they're connected with that visit to Brighton. Because he could have bought another phone in London, when he realized he'd lost his, but he didn't. It was only after those two hours he spent in Brighton that the need to make that call became so urgent.
`Has Esmond used that phone since?'
Quinn shakes his head. `Nothing since that call.'
`This Davy character, boss `“ does he know where Harry was living?' asks Gislingham.
I shake my head. `They never went to his place. Davy says he got the impression there was someone else in his life, and that was probably the reason. A live-in lover, maybe even a husband.'
`Or someone else's,' says Ev darkly. `Samantha Esmond's, for instance.'
`There's something else too,' I continue. `Davy says he met Harry at the bar where he was working in Summertown. But later he told him he was also doing a bit of gardening on the side for extra cash.'
Realization dawns. Somer first, then the others.
`So that's the link,' says Ev. `Harry was doing the Esmonds' garden. The neighbours said there was someone. We just didn't make the connection.'
I nod. `Right. But we can easily confirm it one way or the other.' I go over to the board and pin up a picture of Harry Brown, then turn to Gis. `Speak to the Youngs again. Ask them if they recognize this man. Ev, can you pick up on the bar in Summertown `“ it's the Volterra on South Parade. See what the staff can tell us about him. And Quinn?'
`Boss?'
`That was excellent, lateral-thinking detective work. Keep it up.'
2 January 2018, 8.30 a.m.
Two days before the fire
23 Southey Road, Oxford
`You're going to miss that train at this rate,' calls Michael, checking his watch. He's standing at the bottom of the stairs, surrounded by holdalls and carrier bags. Matty has been waiting for at least ten minutes. They can hear Zachary whining upstairs.
`Mum said I shouldn't wear my Arsenal scarf,' he says sullenly.
`Well, it might not be a great idea, not in Liverpool. They're pretty proud of their own team up there.'
`Here we are,' says Sam, coming down the stairs with Zachary on her hip, still grizzling.
`Is everything OK? You were ages up there.'
He scans her face, wondering when she's going to tell him. If she's going to tell him. She'd wrapped the pregnancy test in a wodge of toilet paper and stuffed it in the bottom of the bin but he found it all the same. Because he can read her like a book and he knew there was something. Something she was keeping from him.
`There's enough stuff here for half a dozen kids,' he says, eyeing the baggage. `Just as well you only have two.' He keeps his voice light but she doesn't meet his gaze, doesn't take the bait.
`You know what it's like,' she says distractedly. `You always need three times more than you think. Right,' she says, turning to Matty, `are we all set for our pirate adventure?'
Michael loads the luggage into the car as she straps Zachary into the child seat.
`Remember, you'll have to get a cab on the way home. I doubt I'll be back before you, and in any case, the car will still be in the garage.'
`It's fine,' she says, closing the door and getting into the front. `We like black cabs, don't we, Matty?'
`They make a funny noise,' he replies. `Like a Dalek.'
Michael gets in and puts the key in the ignition.
`Have you got everything for your presentation?' she says brightly, eyeing her husband.
`Yes, it's all sorted.'
`And that meeting with Professor Jordan, when was that again?'
`Ten fifteen. But it's nothing. Just routine admin stuff.'
She turns to pull on her seat belt.
`I'm sure your talk will be brilliant. They always are. Give me a call to let me know how it goes.'
`Oh, I meant to mention `“ on that score, don't worry if you can't get me on the mobile. I'll probably be in the library quite a lot of the time.'
She frowns. `I thought you said the talk was all sorted?'
`It is,' he says, starting the engine. `This is something else. Something I need to check.'
All in all, Quinn tells himself as he walks down the corridor, that went as well as it was probably ever going to. And at least he's shown some initiative. Some smarts. Which is more than he can say of the rest of them, right now. Who knows, perhaps he might make it back to DS after all.
When his mobile rings ten minutes later he's in two minds whether to answer it at all. He stares at it for four rings, then heaves a heavy sigh and sits back in his chair.