The carriage jolted and for a second she wondered if the engine had detached leaving them to fend for themselves but then she felt movement as the train lurched and juddered forward. Internally she let out a silent whoop of joy. The journey, short as it was, was proving arduous. Richard insisted on keeping the car and Sunday trains were far from frequent, particularly in the direction of the East Anglian coast. Maintenance works had led to further cancellations. This was as close to her final destination as she could get. Which was to say, not very close at all.
Standing, she navigated her way past the other passengers assembling their coats and bags, bracing herself on the headrests of the seats as she angled in the direction of the luggage racks. The train screeched to a halt alongside the platform and she joined the queue of people waiting for the automated doors to unlock. The light blinked from red to green and a young man, wearing a multi-coloured beanie hat and low-slung trousers she was just itching to pull up, tapped the button. The doors hissed and whooshed as they parted. Everyone shuffled forwards, stepping down onto the platform.
People hurried off in the direction of the exit and Tamara looked around, blinking to minimise the glare of the sun sitting low in the sky. She’d never been here before. Extending the handle of her case, she followed the herd. Finding herself at the back of the group, the station emptied quickly and soon she stood alone as family and friends picked up the new arrivals and those travelling on to other stations boarded the bus set aside as a replacement for the cancelled train. Thankfully, she would be spared this particular torture. Scanning the car park, her eyes fell on a tall man standing in the sunshine and leaning against a dark blue Volvo, seemingly preoccupied with his mobile phone. He didn’t appear to be meeting anybody and in the absence of anyone else fitting the bill, she approached him. He glanced up, eyeing her arrival. He was fair-haired but carried a natural tan and dark eyes in stark contrast. His appearance was slightly scruffier than she might expect. She found herself wondering if this is the standard that passed for the senior officers on a rural beat.
“DCI Greave?” he asked, greeting her with a smile, revealing white teeth. She approved of good personal hygiene.
“Inspector Janssen?” she replied, offering him her hand. He took it. “You seem surprised.”
“I didn’t know who to expect.”
He sounded sheepish and then it clicked. All he had was a name. He must have been expecting someone else, perhaps another man. Back in the provinces, she thought, mocking, but he doesn’t speak with a broad Norfolk accent. Then again, she shed her own west country twang years ago. Whether that was a conscious choice or a result of the social circles her family moved in she was unsure but most people found it hard to place her accent.
“Is this us?” she asked, indicating the car he was leaning against when she arrived. He nodded, releasing the boot with a touch of a button. The lid elevated and he reached for her case. Normally, she would object, always one to manage herself but on this occasion, she let it slide.
“I’ve got you booked into a B&B. It is more of a hotel and you can eat there in the evening but I figured this way you could make your own choices. I’ll take you there first, so you can freshen up. Then—”
“No!” Her tone was harsh, not intended as such but she was inclined to get up to speed as soon as possible. “I’d rather take a look at where you found the body, if you don’t mind?”
“No, not at all.” Janssen didn’t seem perturbed by her desire to crack on. That was a positive for she wasn’t one to let the grass grow under her feet. “I’ve brought a summary of the case notes compiled this far. You can familiarise yourself with them on the way. It’ll be a good three quarters of an hour drive from here.”
She climbed into the passenger seat, noting the child seat in the rear. There was no wedding ring on his left hand, though. Not that it bothered her. Not everyone was as uptight or as traditionally focussed as Richard and his family. The differences between a strong family culture, based broadly along Christian values, versus her own humanist background made for interesting conversations at shared mealtimes. Interesting in her mind at least. She spared a thought for her long-suffering other half. He didn’t share his parents’ beliefs, but he toed the line for a quiet life. Arguably, he was marrying the wrong woman if he thought she would do the same.
Janssen got into the other side, reaching into the rear and producing a folder that he passed to her. Starting the car, he reversed out of the space. The car park was deserted save for one vehicle in the far corner. It looked like it may have been left there for the weekend. She had no idea of her bearings being so unfamiliar with where she was. Reading the sign indicating a distance to King’s Lynn, she thought of yet another place she’d never set foot in. Janssen didn’t appear to have much to say. He seemed to be a man of few words. Either that or she was intimidating him. Flicking through the case file, she wondered whether they could pass by a drive-through and pick up a coffee. The after effects of the night before were still present and she needed to sharpen her mind.
They passed over a large roundabout where multiple routes appeared to intersect with each other before they set off in a direct route towards the coast. The road was elevated above the
