The incident room was an airless, soulless place. The steel framed window had been sealed shut for the last three years since a listening device was implanted from outside. Three floors up, they had expected privacy, and now they were paying the price as they filed into what Ruby lovingly referred to as hell. She prayed for rain. It was not that she hated the sun; Ibiza, Malaga, such places brought memories of glorious clubbing and sun-soaked days. Shoreditch briefing room in a heatwave did not invoke the same blissful feelings. With the door shut, and sweaty bodies lined up against the walls, it was a special kind of hell indeed.
Downes led the briefing, swapping intelligence and bringing everyone up to speed. He was leaving the best until last as always, and Ruby stood when prompted, ready to deliver the news.
‘I’ve got two important updates which have just come in. Firstly, I want to read you some letters,’ Ruby said, holding up two sheets of paper. ‘These are copies of exhibits which I seized from Emily Edmonds’s address this afternoon. They were discovered taped inside a bath panel in her home.’ She handed Luddy copies to distribute. Clearing her throat, she prepared to read the first page.
‘Dearest Mother.
Yes, you read right. I’m your daughter. I’ve come to find you. I know that this will come as a shock to you, or perhaps you’ve always known that this day would come – that the daughter you gave away would come looking for answers. But there’s no need to worry. I don’t care about the past. I just want us to be a family. Writing this letter has not been easy, but I want us to be together. I hope this advance warning will make things easier when we meet. I’m so looking forward to being a part of your family again.
Lots of love, Lucy x’
Ruby lowered the paper and glanced around the room. Her eyes rested on Ash as she wondered which second-hand shop he’d bought his crumpled blue tie from. At least it proved someone had listened to her request to smarten up.
‘Right, I’m opening this up for discussion: what do you think?’
‘Creepy psycho,’ Ash said.
‘Why?’ Ruby replied.
He ran his hand over his thinning hair. ‘Reading between the lines. I’ve come to find you… I’m looking forward to being a member of your family, then signing it lots of love. She doesn’t know this woman. It sounds desperate.’
‘Maybe,’ Ruby said, ‘but are you making this judgement with the beauty of hindsight?’
Eve fanned her face with her paper, her voice reminding Ruby of a small chirping bird. ‘I don’t think she’s crazy. She sounds sad, lonely. It’s not been easy for her, but she’s writing the letter to protect herself from rejection. She’s hoping that by introducing herself gradually she’ll spare herself the embarrassment of being turned away.’
‘Fair point,’ Ruby nodded. ‘Anyone else?’
‘I think the person behind this letter is very bitter but trying to hide it. “The daughter you gave away”, it doesn’t sit easy with me,’ Luddy said.
Ruby nodded, giving him a knowing look. She had yet to inform the team that they had located Emily’s daughter, and wanted them to view the letters with an open mind. ‘We don’t have Emily’s response, but I think we can guess given the tone of the second letter.’ She fixed her glasses back on the bridge of her nose before continuing.
‘Mother.
I was surprised to receive a reply so soon. At first I thought it was an indicator of your enthusiasm, until I read it through. I understand that you are concerned about how your husband will react, particularly given that you never saw fit to tell him of my existence. However, I would like to reassure you that I am not here to cause trouble. I have been able to put my childhood behind me. All I want now is for us to be a family and have a future together. I am sorry you have reservations, but our meeting is a necessity. The only thing that has kept me going all of these years is the thought of being reunited with my true mother. I look forward to seeing you very soon.
Lucy XX’
‘Told you she was psycho,’ Ash said as he nudged Eve.
‘Well, I think it’s sad,’ Eve said. ‘She’s built up an idea of her mother in her head, and Emily has basically told her she’s not interested. Granted, she’s forthright, but perhaps that’s because she’s always had to be that way. What she said about putting her childhood behind her, it doesn’t sound like she’s had things easy.’
Ruby slid the paperwork back into the folder. ‘I think we can all agree that Lucy has become forceful in her suggestions that they meet. This is someone who is not going to take no for an answer. We can only imagine that when Emily replied she was perhaps apologetic and pleading by nature, refusing to meet Lucy on the grounds that her husband knew nothing about her. Intelligence now suggests that Emily was a victim of domestic abuse.’
‘Surely the question is: where’s Emily’s daughter? If you find her, you have our murderer,’ Ash said.
‘Not quite,’ Ruby replied. ‘We’ve already located Emily Edmonds’s daughter.’ She paused for effect, allowing the rumble of voices to echo around the room. ‘Unfortunately, she’s deceased. Emma Wilson died in a car accident two years ago, when she was twenty years old. So whoever wrote these letters is not Emily’s real daughter. Which leads us to ask: who is responsible for writing these letters? And also: what’s the connection with the ribbon tied to the door?’
Eve raised her hand. ‘I’ve checked with Bones – it’s crepe. It’s a tradition which stems from the Victorian era. It means there’s been a death in the family when it’s tied on the door. It’s usually tied around the door knocker or bell so callers don’t knock loudly and disturb the grieving people inside. Black crepe looped with white ribbon signifies the death of a child.’
‘Right,’ Ruby said, feeling very tired. She should be thrilled to have so many clues, but with nothing to link them to they were being made to look like fools. ‘Make a list of these traditions and pin them on the board. See if you can find any connections, past cases, anything of value. But don’t spend too much time on it. We’ve got a lot to get through.’
Ruby knew that when the post-mortem was over she would need a stiff drink. Which is why she had arranged to meet Luddy at the Well and Bucket at eight. She loved the vibe of this pub, with its distressed tile-work and shiny copper bar. Pictures of creepy Victorians graced the walls, giving it an eccentric feel. She sipped on her luminous cocktail as Luddy tucked into a burger and chips. Ruby didn’t want food. It interfered with the absorption of the alcohol which was nicely numbing the guilt she felt for not visiting her mother that day.
‘That bone saw… I can still hear it now. I mean, Chris Douglas seems like a nice guy, right? But how can any normal young man want to work in a job where you saw through someone’s skull and crack it open like a boiled egg? And don’t get me started on the smell… ’
Luddy gently laid his knife and fork to one side.
‘Are you not having that?’ Ruby asked, oblivious to the effect of her words.
‘Funnily enough, I’ve lost my appetite. But do carry on with your vivid descriptions.’
‘Oh yeah… sorry,’ Ruby chortled, stealing a chip from his plate. ‘Anyway, I managed to keep my lunch down long enough for him to examine the contents of her stomach. And do you know what he found?’
Luddy sighed. ‘The remains of a cucumber sandwich?’
‘No; good guess though.’ She swivelled her head left to right before dropping her voice. ‘Christmas decorations. In her stomach. At least that’s what we think they were. She had lacerations inside her mouth. Apparently she was force-fed baubles. You know, the ones you hang on a tree?’ Ruby knew that Ash would retort with a dirty joke but Luddy just nodded, allowing her to babble on until he suppressed a yawn with the back of his hand. It was then that Ruby realised she was rambling, which was usually a sign that she was drunk. ‘Sorry mate,’ she said, ‘I’ve been going on a bit, haven’t I?’
‘No, I’m just a bit tired, that’s all,’ Luddy said, crunching his ice cubes with his back teeth. ‘Can I get you another drink?’
Ruby shook her head. ‘Best I be off. Early start and all that. Sorry for ruining your dinner.’
Luddy rose, his hand on her forearm. ‘Would you like me to walk you home?’ He flushed, probably realising how lame it sounded. ‘I mean, you’ve had quite a few. Do you want me to see you to your door?’
‘Nah, I’m only around the corner. Thanks for keeping me company though; there’s nothing sadder than drinking alone.’ Ruby bent down to pick up her bag from where it had fallen on the floor. ‘See ya tomorrow!’ she said, cheerily, before disappearing onto the streets of London.
A lungful of night air brought her back to her senses, and she mentally admonished herself. Drinking on a work night was hardly setting a good example, particularly with a murder case on the go. She strode down the narrow streets, taking the shortcuts that would lead her to her flat. It was good to walk things off. She passed the smokers, the revellers, and the toothless drunk on the corner arguing with a scantily clad woman about his dog.
Ten minutes later, Ruby was wishing she had stayed on the main drag rather than the dark allies which cut time off her journey. The footsteps that had been echoing behind her halted as she swivelled her head, and a shadow darted from her vision. She briefly considered a confrontation, but she was too unsteady on her feet to guarantee she would come out of it unharmed. She straightened her posture, focusing hard on walking with more confidence than she felt. Whoever was behind her obviously did not want to be seen, which was just as well as Ruby was in no hurry to meet them.
She slid her hand to the light switch as she opened the door, unable to shake off the creeping sensation clinging to her spine. Under the gloom of the forty-watt lightbulb, she slipped off her shoes and padded around her flat. Something wasn’t right. She picked up the framed photo of her with her mum that now lay face down on top of her television. Wandering into her bedroom, her gaze fell on the open wardrobe doors. Had she left them open? And her clothes – they were now neatly folded on the chair. A frown burrowed into her forehead. Was she being paranoid or had someone been here? After checking the rest of the flat, she reluctantly slipped into bed. But sleep did not come easy, carrying nightmares fuelled with fear and regret.