‘“It was you”,’ says Nelson. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘I don’t know,’ says Judy. ‘But that’s how the daughter remembered it. Her husband too. I wish I could have spoken to Tina. It’s so sad. She seemed fit and well when Tanya and I interviewed her.’
Although it’s meant to be Tanya’s day in the office, Judy has come in to discuss this latest development. Leah is back too, looking like a secret service agent in a black polo neck.
‘Tina was in the dangerous age zone,’ says Tanya. ‘People over seventy are more at risk from Covid. Plus she was overweight. Petra says obesity is a contributory factor.’
‘She wasn’t obese,’ says Judy. She feels oddly protective about Tina. She remembers the active figure bustling around her kitchen, feeding children and chickens, answering their questions with matter-of-fact kindness. I’ll relax when I’m dead.
‘You’d be surprised at the clinical definition of obesity,’ says Tanya.
This reminds Judy of her Lean Zone theory. She fills Tanya in now. ‘It’s the only link between all the deaths.’
‘Did Tina go to Lean Zone?’ asks Tanya.
‘I don’t know,’ says Judy. ‘I’ll find out.’ She can’t really go back to Denise on Tina’s phone, but she can ask Jacquie and Barb to check their membership files.
‘I keep going back to that third person’s fingerprints on the door handle,’ says Nelson. ‘Someone was in Avril’s house on the day she died. Or some time very close to it.’
‘It might be worth talking to Avril’s daughter again,’ says Judy. ‘Sometimes the shock of a death can wipe out recent memories. It’s been a few weeks now. Something might have come back to her.’
A few weeks. It seems like years since she and Tanya visited the bungalow with the veranda around it.
‘Good idea,’ says Nelson. ‘And let’s keep trying to trace Joe McMahon. For his own safety as much as anything.’
‘He hasn’t done anything wrong though,’ says Tanya. ‘Apart from having pictures of Ruth all over his room.’ She flicks a glance at Judy.
‘Like I say,’ says the boss, rather stiffly. ‘I’m concerned for his safety. A fellow student mentioned that he might have had suicidal thoughts.’
‘Which is more than any of our so-called suicides did,’ says Tanya.
‘You never know what people are thinking,’ says Nelson. ‘But we need to do some more digging on Avril. Good idea to go back to the daughter, Judy. Let’s keep the other women in mind too. They might have taken their own lives but, then again, they might not. If so, there’s a serial killer out there.’
It’s the first time any of them have said these words. Judy wonders if they are all thinking the same thing. Lockdown could make life very easy for a serial killer.
Ruth is, once again, Zooming with her first-year students. There’s no sign of Joe McMahon and, more worryingly still, Eileen does not appear. It’s hard to engage them, online, with field methods in archaeology. Normally, this module is taught on site. Ruth had hoped to include Martha, the Tombland skeleton, this year. But today they have to make do with photographs of landscapes, spotting the topographical features – hillocks, dips or lines – that might be evidence of archaeological activity. Ruth’s mind is slightly distracted and she’s glad when the two hours are over.
Afterwards Ruth emails Eileen – Just checking you’re OK? – but doesn’t get any answer. Has Eileen gone home? Ruth hopes so. She wonders if Nelson has had any luck tracing Joe. She hasn’t spoken to him since he left on Sunday morning. She wonders how he’s getting on with Laura and whether seeing his daughter, who looks very like her mother, is making him miss Michelle. She also sincerely hopes that Laura is feeling better. She’s very fond of Nelson’s daughter and Kate adores her. It’s all very complicated.
Kate has already finished the work set by the school and is embarking on another Lego construction. Ruth wonders if they should go out for a walk. Cathbad unexpectedly cancelled yoga this morning so they haven’t had any fresh air. But she can’t face disturbing Kate, so she goes back to her laptop and starts to prepare her next lecture. Excavating human remains.
Judy rings Bethany Flowers but there’s no answer. She leaves a message and, keen to escape from the police station and Tanya’s at-desk fitness regime – she stands up every fifteen minutes and performs lunges – decides to drive into Hunstanton. The library and the church are both shut. There’s a note on the latter giving Mother Wendy’s number in case of emergencies. Judy writes it down, wondering whether it’s worth asking the vicar more about Avril’s state of mind. Of course she was worried. That’s what the church is here for. For worried people.
It’s a sunny morning. Sunny Hunny, Judy’s parents used to call the town, and it’s certainly living up to its name today. Judy drives to the seafront and walks along the promenade. There are a few people walking along the beach, but the funfair is shrouded under plastic sheeting and there’s police tape across the band stand. Of course, it’s still only March. Will the tourists flock back in summer, even if everything is still shut? If so, it will be up to the local police to send them home. Judy walks back to her car, remembering trips to the sea-life centre and rides on the Tractor Train. However much she enjoys having the beach to herself there’s something very sad about an empty seaside resort.
On impulse, Judy drives to Hugh Baxter’s house. The garden is as neat as ever, now full of daffodils and tulips. Hugh Baxter answers the door almost before she knocks. He’s dressed, as before, in a neat shirt and tie, slacks and leather slippers.
‘DI Johnson,’ he says. ‘How nice to see you again.’
Judy is touched that he’s remembered her name (and got her rank right) but somehow sad that he’s so pleased to see her. How many visitors does the old man get? she wonders. Vulnerable people are being told to shield which, in practice, means never leaving their house.
‘I just wondered how you were,’ she says. ‘I can’t come in, I’m afraid, and we should keep two metres apart.’ She says this because Hugh has moved closer, peering short-sightedly.
‘I’m fine,’ says Hugh, backing away. ‘I do my exercises every morning and go for a walk round the block. And I like watching the birds in the garden.’
‘What about food?’ says Judy. ‘Are you managing OK?’
‘The local Co-op delivers,’ says Hugh. ‘And I don’t eat that much.’
Judy’s heart contracts but the comment reminds her of the purpose of her visit.
‘I know it’s a strange question,’ she says, ‘but did Avril go to Lean Zone meetings? It’s a slimming group.’
But Hugh answers immediately. ‘Yes, she did. Not that she needed to lose weight. But you ladies are all the same. Even my late wife was, and she was as slim as anything.’
Judy doesn’t argue with this although she’s never dieted in her life. She knows that old people have different attitudes. Her grandmother keeps asking when Cathbad is going to make an honest woman of her.
‘Do you remember if Avril had any friends in the group?’
‘There was one woman. A nurse, I think. Avril used to talk about her sometimes.’
‘Can you remember her name?’
‘No, but it might come back to me. Sometimes things come back to me in the middle of the night.’
‘Well, if it does, could you give me a ring? I’d be very grateful.’ Judy hands over her card.
Hugh holds it very close to his face. ‘Serious Crimes Unit.’
‘That’s just for show,’ says Judy. ‘I’m interested in non-serious crimes too.’
Hugh laughs, a surprisingly robust sound. Judy starts to say goodbye when he interrupts her. ‘You don’t know what’s happened to Tina Prentice, do you? It’s just that she usually rings me on a Sunday and she didn’t yesterday.’
Judy takes a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.’
When Judy gets back in the car, she breathes deeply for a few minutes. In for four, out for eight. Hugh had taken the news pretty well. He’d swayed for a minute and Judy had been afraid that he was going to faint, but he’d recovered himself, getting out a large clean handkerchief and wiping his face with it. Even this had seemed touching to Judy. Who has proper linen handkerchiefs these days? This one had been ironed too. Maybe Tina had done it.
‘This Covid is a wicked thing,’ said Hugh.
Judy agreed that it was. She also promised to check in again on Hugh in a few days’ time. She wonders if she can contact social services but she’s sure they are overwhelmed at the moment and, on the face of it, Hugh seems to be coping well. It’s a lonely life though. She looks back at the house and sees the next-door-neighbour pruning her roses. Should she have a word, ask the woman to keep an eye on Hugh? As she ponders, her phone rings. Bethany Flowers. Avril’s daughter.
‘You left a message,’ says Bethany.
‘Yes,’ says Judy. ‘I just had a couple of questions. Nothing serious. How are you?’
‘I’m OK,’ says Bethany. ‘As well as can be expected.’ She gives a short laugh at the cliché. She sounds far more Scottish than Judy remembers. ‘It’s strange,’ Bethany goes on, ‘at any other time, I’d be able to keep busy, but I’ve been furloughed so I’m just sitting at home, thinking about Mum. James isn’t much help.’
Judy knows that Bethany is married with no children. James must be the husband. She wonders why he isn’t much help. Is he an essential worker or just generally useless?
‘It must be very difficult for you,’ says Judy. ‘As you know, we’re still investigating your mother’s death.’
‘That must be hard to do,’ says Bethany, ‘with everything locked down.’
‘It’s challenging,’ says Judy, touched that Bethany is thinking like this. ‘I was just wondering whether you’d had any further thoughts. Anything about your mum. However small. Anything that might be able to help us.’
‘Not really,’ says Bethany. ‘I’m more thinking about the past. When I was a wee girl.’
‘Your mum used to go to Lean Zone meetings, didn’t she?’ says Judy.
‘Lean Zone? Oh, the slimming group. Mum was always dieting but she never seemed to lose any weight. She didn’t need to anyway, in my opinion.’
‘I’ve just been to see your mum’s friend Hugh Baxter and he said that Avril had a friend at the group. A nurse, he thought.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ says Bethany. ‘Is Hugh all right? Mum was very fond of him.’
‘He seems fine,’ says Judy. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him.’ She wonders if Bethany knows about Tina but doesn’t feel up to delivering any more bad news.
They chat for a few more minutes and then say goodbye. The neighbour is still in her garden, poised with the secateurs. Judy is about to drive away when her phone pings. Cathbad.
‘Judy. I’m really sorry but I think I’ve got Covid.’