Janssen figured that would be astute. “Find out how Holly was getting on? If her parents felt she needed extra tuition, was it an attainment issue or one of attitude?”
“Sure.” Her reply was a confirmation but he figured there was more. He waited. “I want to hear more about Mark as well. How does he fit in with the class dynamic? He seems an odd choice for Holly to buddy up with.”
Janssen considered that. “Maybe it’s the opposite.” She looked over at him, encouraging him to continue. “Mark’s on the outside of the group by all accounts, doesn’t fit in. With his home life, that’s not a shock but it’s more than that. There’s something about him. Everyone seems to think he’s…”
“Weird?”
“Yeah. A bit of an oddball but the way he spoke with us… He was so adamant about things, giving other people’s opinions as if they were facts. Like he couldn’t distinguish between the two.”
“What are you saying?” She sounded inquisitive, not sceptical. He thought about it a bit more, trying to find the best way to articulate his theory.
“I don’t know exactly. I just think there’s more going on with him. As I understand it, he’s the least problematic of the McCalls. From a policing point of view, certainly. It’s not that I think he’s withholding as such, unlike Ken Francis, but… maybe Holly and he shared an affinity of sorts. Their being outsiders. Her parents were expecting her to make it through medical school and she wasn’t achieving the grades and let’s not forget, a baby would certainly put the pre-planned route in jeopardy.”
Tamara nodded solemnly as if taking onboard his point. Not that he was sure he had actually managed to make it very clearly. Conversation fell away as Janssen picked their way back through the villages. They made good time. Once they approached the Easter Bank Holiday weekend, the A149 and the surrounding roads would be jammed with vehicles. Likewise, accommodation would become scarce. Most would be booked up well in advance. He had lined up a hotel for her that lay between Deepdale and Brancaster. Convenient as well as reputable, he figured she would be okay with it.
“Manual strangulation is interesting,” Tamara said after a few minutes, staring straight ahead. “That implies personal, highly motivated.”
He had to agree. Choking someone to death with your bare hands took time. It wasn’t like in films or television shows. The process could take five minutes or more. The neck muscles don’t just collapse during the squeeze, they push back. “Personal could indicate a crime of passion.”
“I doubt she stumbled across a passing serial killer, although we could never rule that out. Statistically, we’re looking for someone local, probably within her circle and the baby throws up all manner of possibilities.”
His thoughts drifted to Alice and Saffy. Imagining the little girl as a baby made him feel sorry for Holly and her unborn child. Neither of them would get the chance to see what life could have been like. Alice managed well as a single parent. If that would have been Holly’s situation, would she have gone it alone if required? He was only theorising. She would have had wealthy parents nearby as well which was something Alice didn’t. Juggling shifts at the hospital along with childcare must have been a nightmare, hence the move back to Norfolk and a job as a practice nurse with the Bettanys. Half-tempted to call and pick her brains about her employers, he realised it would be better to do so in private. The last thing he wanted was to make her life awkward and run the risk of straining their relationship. He smiled, pleased to have her back in his life.
“What’s caught you?” Tamara asked, obviously interpreting his expression. He felt himself reddening, shaking his head.
“I’ll take you to your digs, if that’s okay?”
“Sure. Do you fancy a working dinner? We can map out a course of action.” She must have read an involuntary micro-expression for she quickly cancelled the idea. “If you have plans, it doesn’t matter. I forgot you actually live here.”
Alice came to mind again. Only this time, he ensured the accompanying smile was directed inwardly.
Chapter Sixteen
Tamara woke early. Whether it was the strange bed, room, or simply the lack of Richard’s presence, she was unsure. The time on the digital clock on the bedside table was wrong. She noticed before going to sleep but hadn’t been able to figure out how to work it and gave up, turning in. Richard called the previous night. The conversation was short, tense, with him obviously still aggrieved at her returning to work early. Not that he would say so unless intensely pushed. Instead, their conversation was stilted, bland. Each of them offering up a succession of anecdotes from their day with the other feigning interest as best they could, both failing miserably to convey genuine enthusiasm. There wasn’t any. She was preoccupied with the case and Richard with his family, subjects not mutually interchangeable.
Slipping out from beneath the sheets, she crossed the room and looked out over the wetlands of Brancaster Bay to the sea beyond. An orange glow was building on the horizon, a cloudless start to the day. Throwing open the doors to the Juliet balcony, the cool breeze felt wonderful against her skin. The cold snap appeared to be over with a change of wind direction drawing up warmth from continental Europe. Gulls could be heard calling overhead. Boats lay at anchor in both directions, ranging from yachts down to little skiffs. The low-lying land and tidal creeks must be good for safe harbouring. The sight of the boats and the sounds all reminded her of home, back in the west, but it was different here. The coastline was calmer, somehow less brutal. It was certainly quiet. Norfolk seemed to offer a respectful peace. A place where she
