Page 54 of Return Ticket

Of everything she’d expected him to say, this had not been it. It was her turn to gape.

With a small smile, he lifted her lower jaw back up.

She blinked. “What are you going to do?”

“Things have escalated. I think Whetford set Hartridge and me up for an attack yesterday at the CND march.”

“What!” Gabriella was outraged. “I’ve never seen such peaceful protesters as the CND.”

James laughed. “Not always, but I agree, they’re mostly very law-abiding. I think the people who were going to beat us up were police officers who are in bed with Whetford. And they were going to lay the blame at the CND’s door. Don’t worry, I managed to put a spoke in Whetford’s wheels.”

“And now? Do you think he’ll give up?” She had met Whetford, and had found him sexist and condescending. She couldn’t see him taking being bested very well.

James laughed. “No. I have a plan, but if it goes wrong . . .”

“Tell me,” she said. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

He shook his head. “If I think of something, I’ll tell you. But this is going to be played out inside the walls of New Scotland Yard. And I might be fired at the end of it.”

She hadn’t realized the stakes, but, of course that could be the outcome. “That doesn’t seem fair. Whetford is the one who should be fired. Should be in jail.”

“That’s unlikely, but if I can get him and his thugs to leave me and Hartridge alone, that will be enough of a win for now.” He slid his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head. “And I’d prefer to kiss you, and forget about that bastard.”

She leaned into him, and lifted her own hands to his shoulders. “Forget about who?”

chaptertwenty-two

James wentto Dr. Jandicott before he even went in to the Met.

He felt more energized than he had for a week. The time with Gabriella had given him more than just useful information, it had cleared his mind and centered him.

The pathologist was unlocking his office door, briefcase in hand, and raised his brows when he saw James. “Something come up?” he asked.

“Therewasanother body,” James said. “Yesterday outside St Thomas’ Church in Kensington and Chelsea.”

“Is that so?” Jandicott pushed his door open and walked behind his desk. “In the church itself?”

“The church is currently carrying out repairs. She was found in a skip bin in the car park. Constable Evans was one of the responding officers.” James didn’t sit down, he had too much energy.

Jandicott picked up his phone, called someone, and James heard his conversation with half an ear as he worked out a plan of action for the day. He’d already called the barracks and left a message for Hartridge to come straight to Jandicott’s office.

“The post mortem is on my schedule for today.” Jandicott replaced the receiver. “The body came in yesterday, but I was busy with another post mortem, and had given standing orders not to be interrupted.”

“All right, that’s good.” James relaxed a little. At least the body hadn’t ended up with someone like the drunk Doctor Venables.

“Do you want to accompany me, and we can do an initial examination now?” Jandicott asked.

“Yes, please.” He got the impression Jandicott was just as alarmed at the number of deaths as he was. The sooner they made progress, the safer the streets would be.

And while he may have worked out the method, perhaps even the circumstances of the murders, he had no idea who was behind it.

“Were you working as a pathologist here during the war?” James asked. Jandicott looked to be in his late 50s, and it was possible.

The doctor shook his head. “I was an army doctor on the Continent during the war.” As he walked with James down to the morgue, he shot him a quizzical look. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s someone who worked the night crew during the Blitz, and he found a suspicious death in the aftermath of the bombing of the old Billick Building, where the body from the other day was found on the rubble. And the body found yesterday was at a church that was bombed in the Blitz. The vicar found a woman’s body after the bombing, even though the bomb didn’t explode. Then, the allotment gardens where Pamela Moresby was found used to be a factory during the war, and it caught fire during the Blitz. They found a dead woman in there, too.” James couldn’t help the sense of excitement that gripped him as he laid it out for Jandicott. This was too much to be coincidence.

“What about the first site?” Jandicott asked. “Was it bombed?”

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