Cambridge Blue - Alison Bruce [46]
Within another ten minutes, he’d reached home and, apart from the new message light blinking on his phone, everything looked the same. He allowed it to blink a dozen times or more, wondering if he was about to hear DI Marks demanding an immediate call-back. Goodhew considered not listening to it at all; if ignorance really was bliss, then he could enjoy a decent few hours’ sleep without having to plan a conversation with his boss.
He sighed, then pressed ‘Play’. Might as well know what he was up against.
But the voice that spoke wasn’t Marks’, it was his grandmother’s. ‘Gary, I’d like to have a chat with you, so I’ll ring you later. But perhaps, if it’s not too late when you get in, you could ring me instead. I’ve come to a decision and it’s time I put you in the picture.’
He checked his watch and decided it was too late to call back, then he rang anyway; they were both night owls, after all.
She had caller display on her phone, and answered with typical directness. ‘Can you meet me tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘After work?’
‘Yes, latish, if that suits you.’
‘It would actually. There’s a new case—’
‘Yes, I saw the papers. I hoped you’d be working on it.’
‘But I don’t know exactly when I’ll be free.’
‘Doesn’t matter. I’m having a late dinner at the Felix. Call my mobile once you’re on your way, and I’ll make sure I’m home for you.’
‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing to worry about, I promise.’ She hesitated. ‘It was just that, when we were at the Rock the other day, I suddenly realized how much you’ve grown up . . .’
‘And?’
‘I’ll tell you tomorrow. It’s too complicated for a phone call.’
‘You can’t just tell me half the story!’
‘I haven’t told you any particular fraction of anything, actually.’
‘Now I’ll be kept awake trying to guess.’
‘Well, then, that’s better than lying awake thinking about your work. In any case, you’ll never guess.’
Goodhew went to bed still curious. But as he drifted into sleep, his thoughts ended up back with Lorna Spence and his own unofficial visits to Bryn and Richard. There would be a team briefing session first thing; updating Marks beforehand was his best chance of avoiding greater fallout later. In the end, he was too tired to feel anything but philosophical, happy just to make an early start and think what to do about Marks then.
EIGHTEEN
Goodhew was up and dressed again before it was fully light. DI Marks usually arrived around 8 a.m., therefore Goodhew decided to turn up at the station half an hour before that.
It was another clear but chilly morning as he made a quick and jacketless trip across Parker’s Piece to the swimming pool. He knew that over an hour of swimming would leave him better able to withstand the cold than an extra layer of clothes.
He found he had the pool to himself, which wasn’t unusual for very early mornings. Most days he barely noticed the other swimmers in any case, but today he particularly appreciated the silence. He soon fell into a rhythm based on his regular breathing and his hands constantly plunging into the water, punctuated every twenty strokes by the turn and glide he made at the end of each length. Maybe it was this easy rhythm that made him crack a full one hundred lengths fifteen minutes faster than usual. He stepped from the water and paused at the pool’s edge, burying his face in his towel just long enough for the chlorine sting to fade from his eyes. He felt like he’d made such good time because he’d woken totally focused, and that was how he intended to tackle the rest of the day. He slung his towel over his shoulder and headed for the changing rooms, reflecting that it was either that, or he’d just miscounted.
It was 7.25 a.m. when he walked through the car park at the rear of the station. He was pleased, but equally not surprised, to notice the absence