Entering ops, he found Tamara, Cassie and Eric already at their desks. He had to check his watch to make sure it hadn't stopped. It was seven o'clock and they looked to be well underway.
"Good morning," he said.
They all acknowledged him.
"I figured you'd be early. There's a coffee there for you," Tamara said, pointing to a takeaway cardboard cup holder tray with one cup still present. "It'll still be hot."
"Thanks."
Tom picked it up, grateful for the pick-me-up. Tamara came across the room to him, lowering her voice so only the two of them would hear.
"You okay?"
He nodded.
"And how're Alice and Saffy?"
He inclined his head, unsure of what to say. "Not great. Saffy is a resilient kid and Alice… well, she'll hold up well for Saffy's sake, but it's come as a shock."
"Bound to. Poor girl."
Tom presumed she was referring to Saffy.
"Did Alice say anything to you that might prove useful?"
"About Gage's work?"
Tamara nodded.
"No, I'm afraid not. She didn't know what he was working on and I get the impression she's not talked with him much recently."
"Ah, right," Tamara said, smiling. "That's a shame."
"Did you find anything useful in the house?"
Tamara frowned. "Probably best if we don't talk about it."
Tom sipped at his coffee and made little attempt to shield her from his disdain for her comment. She indicated his office behind him and they headed into it. Tom caught sight of Cassie watching them go in the corner of his eye. Tamara walked in first and told him to close the door behind him.
"I know we talked about this briefly yesterday, but maybe we should—"
Tom held up his free hand. "There's no need. I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes. I can't be close to it but—"
"There is no but in this, Tom."
"Am I going to be barred from the ops room as well?" He was being sarcastic and she knew it.
"Of course not, but you can't be involved in the case. The details of the investigation need to…"
The two of them stared at one another, his eyes narrowing as he took in the unspoken intimation in what she was saying.
"I think we know each other well enough to know I'm not a suspect in this case," he said softly. Tamara rolled her eyes. "Ex-husband, new lover… I know it's possible."
"Not with you, no," Tamara said. "It's not that. You're close to it. And it's a matter of perception."
"Only if you think my involvement might be seen to prejudice a case…"
A thought sprang to mind, one he hadn't considered until now. He wouldn't consider it, and maybe that was exactly why he couldn't be involved after all. Tamara was watching him intently. Had she had the same thought, only much sooner?
"Tom?"
Shaking his head, he let the matter drop. It wasn't a question he wanted to ask just yet, fearful of what the answer might be.
"Okay. How are we going to manage this? Two murders, limited resources."
"I figured you and Eric could continue with the Beckett case. Eric's already made progress there," Tamara said, gesturing towards the DC with a flick of her hand. "I'll keep Cassie with me. To have two murders in such close proximity is highly suspicious but, as it stands, there is no visible link, so we should progress with two separate inquiries until we have cause to change that approach. Unless you disagree?"
Tom frowned. "I agree. One thing I would say is that we have a woman known to be something of an environmental campaigner, with a gift for rubbing people up the wrong way, and then there's the death of an investigative journalist nearby. We can't ignore the possibility of a crossover."
"Is there anything in Beckett's life that puts her in the middle of such an investigation?"
"No, not at all so far," he said.
"Let's keep an open mind on it."
They stepped back into the ops room. Both Eric and Cassie glanced up, clearly trying to see if there was any increase in the tension between the two senior officers. Tom came alongside Eric.
"How have you got on with the list we discussed?"
In the previous night's exchange of information, Eric had gathered a list of names Mary Beckett had had run-ins with over the years. They were still waiting on the autopsy results coming back but he was already confident on the cause of death. And her time in the water would have destroyed any trace evidence left by her assailant. Their best bet was to start knocking on doors, finding out who had motive and ability to kill her and dispose of the body. This was going to be an old-fashioned investigation.
"I have," Eric said. "First on the list we have a repeat offender who found Mary Beckett an ever-present thorn in his side and proverbial pain in the—"
"Name, Eric?"
"Robert Rutland," Eric said, holding up an arrest record and passing it to him.
The photograph was of a slim-faced man with several days’ worth of stubble and a few wisps of grey hair standing up on the top of his head. The last vestiges of a hairline clinging on in a losing battle with baldness. The eyes appeared hollow and
