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“Compared to my cooking, I’m sure it will.” Gardener tasted it. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Do you eat like this all the time?”
“Hardly! I’d be twenty-stone if I did. I only tend to eat such delicacies when my aunt is around.”
“Did she cook it?”
“No, but it’s her recipe.”
Gardener set down his spoon and picked up his glass of wine. He thought a toast to friendship was fitting. Jacqueline agreed.
“So, how’s your day been?” he asked, continuing with his soup.
“I had a lovely day. A young couple came to see me. They’ve been engaged for about two years and want to get married. He’s had a recent promotion, and they’d like to start a family. They want to do things properly. They seemed to have a very old-fashioned view of life. I was really pleased,” she said.
“I like to see young people getting their priorities right. Especially in the world we’re living in. To most, if it doesn’t have a monetary value, it’s not important.”
“I know,” replied Jacqueline, breaking off a piece of bread and dipping it into the soup. “A throwaway world with falling moral standards. Which are responsible for a lot of problems.”
Jacqueline paused and took a sip of wine. “Still, tonight isn’t about falling standards. Tell me about your day.”
Gardener laughed. “All my days are about falling moral standards.” He finished his soup and sipped some more wine. The Carpenters were singing a cover version of an old Beatles song he recognized. His father was a huge fan. As he reflected on his day, he wondered how much he should tell her.
“I have two murders on my hands. The same killer, same style. No clues. I have disappearing children, another of them dead. It’s been one problem after another, with no answers.”
“David Vickers,” Jacqueline reflected. “It must have been awful for him. I keep wondering what he must have gone through. Was he tortured? Locked away by himself, calling out for a mother who was unable to protect him in his hour of need?”
Gardener’s stomach tightened as he noticed Jacqueline’s eyes reddening. The subject was obviously a raw nerve. For both of them.
She reached for her napkin, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry. I find any crime connected with children emotionally distressing. I don’t think people who hurt children should be allowed to get away with it.”
“You don’t have to apologize for being upset.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. He was out of practice when it came to dating. “I feel as strongly as you do, particularly with having Chris around. He’s growing up fast. I’ll probably lose him to a college in the next five years. God forbid I should lose him sooner to some pervert who can’t control himself. Worse still, a maniac I should have put behind bars.”
Jacqueline poured them each another glass of wine before clearing the dishes. “Do you think there’s a connection between the murders and the disappearing children? Particularly with the Father Christmas angle?”
Gardener paused mid-sip, a tingling sensation creeping up his spine.
“How do you know about Father Christmas?”
She hesitated before sitting back down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m afraid ministers are no different from ordinary citizens. We gossip as much as everyone else. I saw Father O’Hanlon today. He was upset by the body on the grounds of his church. I’m sorry.”
Gardener finished the
glass. “It’s okay. It’ll be common knowledge soon enough, especially now the press is involved. But, to answer your question, I’m not sure. With what little evidence I’ve unearthed so far, I sincerely hope not.”
Gardener paused. Talking about work was the last thing he wanted. He wasn’t there to become tangled up in the logistics of murder with his date. “Let’s try and forget all that. This kind of evening doesn’t happen often for me. We should try to enjoy ourselves. It’s nearly Christmas. I’m enjoying the meal and the company. One of the reasons I accepted tonight’s invitation was because...” Gardener stopped talking, unsure if he should even say anything.
“Because what?” Jacqueline was smiling.
“Because I’d like to know more about you.”
“I’m pleased you said that. I’ll bring the main course through and we can go from there.”
Chapter Thirty-four
“A meal fit for a king, so it was.”
“Such a pity to waste it on the court jester,” retorted Laura.
