Page 55 of Return Ticket

“Hartridge and I will investigate that. It’s possible.” He paused. “I need to look into those deaths from the records. See if there was any hint of foul play back then.”

“What happened with the body the man on the night crew discovered?” Jandicott asked.

“He was suffering from shell shock from the first World War. He wasn’t taken seriously. But he’s adamant he was right. I’ll have to go have a chat with him, as well.”

Jandicott stopped in front of a door, pulled out a bunch of keys, and unlocked it. “Let’s see what we have here.”

James stood in the doorway, letting the pathologist in first to look the body over. Footsteps sounded in the corridor and he turned his head as Hartridge came toward him.

“What’s happening?” Hartridge asked.

“New body. Found yesterday morning.” James glanced at him, then focused back on Jandicott.

“Possibly killed at the start of the weekend.” Jandicott lowered the sheet that covered her as he turned toward them. “The rate of decomposition would put her time of death around there.” He paused. “There’s some nasty wounds to her chest and upper arm.”

“That might be from the contractor working on the church tower who was throwing old bricks down into the skip before he realized she was in there.” James remembered Gabriella telling him how horrified the man had been when he saw her.

Jandicott inclined his head. “That’s something, at least. It wasn’t a deliberate desecration of the corpse.”

“And the cause of death?” James couldn’t fight against the hot, burning sensation in the pit of his gut.

“Two hammer blows to the head,” Jandicott said.

Their killer had taken four victims in less than two months—that they knew about—and who knew how many during the war.

James stepped back with a sense of purpose. “Let me know if you find anything interesting?” he asked.

The pathologist nodded. “Good hunting.”

* * *

Gabriella and Liz left headquarters at the start of their shift and parted ways on the Kings Road.

Liz walked away on her rounds like she was dragging a weight behind her, the consequences of partying at Dance-A-Go-Go until late.

Gabriella realized she felt like she was dragging a weight behind her, too, but it was because she was getting closer and closer to the church.

It had taken a long time for her to look inside an illegally parked car without worrying, after she’d found a body inside one in the summer, and she couldn’t describe how relieved she was when she’d been taken off her old route, and no longer had to walk past the alleyway where she’d found Patty Little’s body.

She didn’t like to make waves, but maybe Mr. Greenberg would change her route again, even if it was just to switch this particular street out with someone else.

St. Thomas’s came into sight, and she must have been staring at the scaffold-covered spire without a care for her surroundings, because a cyclist almost knocked her down as he came past her on the pavement.

She felt his shoulder brush hers as he sped past, and he looked back at her, as shocked by the contact as she was, his eyes wide, before he turned to face forward and disappeared around the corner.

When she reached the church, though, the skip bin was gone, and the workman was nowhere in sight. The car park was empty. It seemed even worse this way, which made her tell herself there was no pleasing her, but still, she hurried past, not even bothering to check for anyone parked on double yellows. She only felt like she could breathe again when she turned onto the next street.

Up ahead there was a pile of furniture on the pavement, neatly stacked beside a house that looked like it was being renovated, and as she got closer, she saw Teddy Roe and another man standing in front of it.

“Morning, Mr. Roe,” she called. “Out looking for something new for your place?”

“Eh?” He turned, recognized her, and touched his cap. “Can you believe this, Gabriella? There’s stuff here looks good as new.”

It didn’t really. Most of it looked worn, but it did look serviceable and clean.

“This is my mate, Jerry.” Teddy Roe jerked a thumb at Jerry, who was inching back into a hedge at the sight of her. Teddy Roe realized it and shook his head. “She’s not a WPC, mate, she’s a traffic warden.”

Jerry relaxed a little. Gave her a tiny nod.

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