Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tamara Greave stood at the entrance to her hotel, handing her case to the taxi driver when she caught sight of Tom Janssen’s car pulling off the highway. He brought the car to a stop and climbed out. Before acknowledging her, he showed the driver his warrant card and took the case from him offering the man a five-pound note in exchange whilst telling him he was no longer required. The driver glanced at her and she smiled, indicating it was okay by her. Janssen gave the man a soft clap on the shoulder and came to stand before her, still clutching the handle of the suitcase. The driver seemed unhappy at losing the fare but didn’t protest.
“You didn’t think I was going to make you get a cab to the station, did you?” Janssen said with a smile.
“I don’t see why not.” She returned the smile, appreciating the gesture. After a pretty intense week, she still found Janssen to be something of a closed book. Just when she thought she had him figured out he would throw her off again. During their time working together Janssen appeared to approach cases differently to her but at no point did he ever imply his was a superior route nor did he undermine hers. Aware of her own inability to work closely with others, their time together had proved something of a success. “I’ve stretched out the overnight bag as far as I could.” He laughed then. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you with all the paperwork. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“Oh, in that case, I needn’t have bothered coming,” Janssen said, taking the suitcase and putting it in the boot of the car. “Eric and I played rock, paper, scissors for the trip.”
“Who won?”
“Now, that’d be telling,” Janssen replied, getting in his side as she opened her door.
The child’s seat was back in the rear and she broke her own rule about intruding on her colleague’s private life. “Tom, do you have a child or do you slip that in occasionally just to confuse people?” He laughed again. It was as if the successful conclusion of the case had eliminated the stress of the previous seven days. Janssen came across as a different man to the somewhat broody, reticent one she first met at Downham Market the week before.
“Alice, my partner does.”
“Ah… they live with you?”
“No and I don’t see that happening any time soon either.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Looking out of the window across the estuary as Janssen started the car, she realised she would miss the place, although she’d return soon enough. Janssen glanced across at her as he pulled away.
“A boat isn’t an ideal place for children to spend their time,” he said quietly, pulling out into traffic.
“You never said you lived on a boat.” That was novel, quirky. Somehow, he didn’t seem the type. There was so much to him that she was unaware of that could easily have come up in conversation. Although, she was often accused of being someone who was unwilling to listen. Tom also struck her as one who was reluctant to share personal information. They held that in common. Her thoughts drifted to Richard and how he would respond to her popping home for a day or two before leaving once more. She wasn’t sure, doubting it would be news warmly received. The anticipation of an argument threatened to dampen her mood and pushing the thought from her mind, she turned her attention to Maddie Bettany. “How did it go with Marie?” Janssen sucked air through his teeth.
“What we were expecting. She’s closed ranks with her husband and is flatly refusing to cooperate.”
“Even now… having established beyond reasonable doubt that he killed their daughter?” Janssen confirmed the assertion. A flash of anger passed through her before she set it aside, her heart reaching out to Holly’s sister. A troubling period lay ahead whatever the outcome of her father’s prosecution. People talking, always pointing the finger. Maddie and her mother, if she proved not to be complicit, would always carry that burden unless they decamped to pastures new. Even then, the ways of the modern world and its tabloid nature would make this part of their lives very difficult to leave behind. “The poor girl.” She almost whispered the words.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing… I was just thinking about the innocents affected by all of this.” She stared out of the window at the passing landscape. “And Callum. Is he still not talking?”
“Not a word. Nor are Ken and Jane Francis. We’ve rumbled a dysfunctional group that’s for certain. I dare say Callum will keep it zipped but the other two may well turn on each other at any moment.”
She laughed at that. Janssen was underestimating their attachment to the status quo. The lengths Jane went to in order to preserve a marriage that was little more than a mutually beneficial arrangement were incredible but then again, weren’t all marriages similar in one way or another? Once the initial passion of a relationship subsided, what remained were two people keeping each other company as they passed through life. Is that where they were, her and Richard? Shuddering at the thought, the journey home suddenly made her feel anxious. Janssen must have noticed a subtle shift in her demeanour because he took on a concerned expression.
“Are you okay?”
She smiled weakly. “I’m fine.” He didn’t seem convinced but didn’t offer further comment. After the events of the week, the last thing she wanted was more drama and that was her expectation. Richard was a man used to getting his own way. Not so much with her despite his best efforts. Perhaps they were too different or maybe in some ways too similar.
Janssen took the turning into the train station. Pulling up in the drop-off zone, he got out. There was a train
