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‘Prior to that,’ he continues, rather hastily, ‘it was empty for a while but before then it was a greengrocer and before that a café called the Green Child. Maybe some sort of green connection there?’
‘Let’s leave the guesswork out of it,’ says Nelson. ‘Just find out who owned the place between 2000 and 2005.’
Tanya and Tony go back to their screens. Nelson retreats to his office and thinks about King’s Lynn. It’s a strange place, an uneasy blend of ancient buildings, like the Exorcist’s House and the Tuesday Market Place where– according to Cathbad– a witch’s heart is embedded in one of the surrounding houses, and hideous modern estates and shopping centres. The quay is undeniably attractive, smooth water and gliding swans passing between brick-front houses. Nelson remembers having lunch with Ruth, not long after they first met, in one of the waterfront pubs. She’d told him that the place had once been by the sea. ‘Lynn means tidal pool,’ she’d told him. And it was an important port once. But now the town feels a bit like it has been forgotten, left out of history, like its hero Captain Vancouver, who apparently discovered Canada, although Nelson has a shrewd suspicion that it was there already.
Nelson remembers the first time he saw the suburb where he now lives. He’d started the job but was living in police accommodation. Michelle had come down for the weekend and found a house for them. ‘It’s a new build,’ she said, ‘no one’s ever lived there before. Four bedrooms, one en-suite. And it’s in acul-de-sac.’ She’d said this like it was the most wonderful thing in the world but all it meant was that no one ever passed by, you were trapped with your smug middle-class neighbours for ever. And now Michelle has escaped back to Blackpool and Nelson is trapped on his own. He told Ruth that he’d go anywhere in the world but, really, Nelson yearns for the north and home.
He’s brought back to reality by the buzz of his phone. Clough.
‘Hi, Cloughie.’
‘Hi, boss.’ Technically, Clough no longer reports to Nelson but old habits die hard. Nelson suppresses a smile. He knows his prodigy well and he can tell by his voice that Clough has news for him.
‘I think I’ve found your missing girl,’ says Clough.
Chapter 6
‘A Cambridge student called Emily Pickering,’ says Clough. ‘She went missing in 2002. Her parents gave a very full description. Including the fact that she had surgery on her ankle two years earlier.’
‘Where do they live?’ says Nelson.
‘Lincoln.’
Nelson considers. Lincoln is over an hour’s drive from King’s Lynn but Nelson doesn’t consider that far. However, visiting bereaved families is a specialist job. Normally he would delegate it to Judy but he doesn’t want to disturb her weekend. He could send Tanya but sensitivity is not really her thing and Tony is too junior.
As if reading his mind, Clough says, ‘Can you send Judy? She’s done all the family liaison training.’
‘She’s at home. Cathbad’s not too well.’
‘Is he still suffering from Covid?’ says Clough. ‘I got it at Easter and it was nothing. Just a mild cold.’
‘We all know you’re superhuman, Cloughie,’ says Nelson. ‘Not to mention vaccinated.’
‘Shall we go to Lincoln?’ says Clough.
‘Seeing you and me on the doorstep might finish them off altogether.’
‘I’m good with families,’ says Clough, sounding hurt.
‘OK,’ says Nelson, deciding. He wants to move the case forward and, besides, does not fancy an afternoon alone in the cul-de-sac. Even his dog, Bruno, is with a dog walker. ‘Ring them first, Cloughie, and prepare them, since you’re so good with people. I’ll meet you there.’
Gordon and Naomi Pickering live in the old part of Lincoln, near the cathedral and the castle. Nelson has to navigate a labyrinthine one-way system and drive through gateways more suited to horses than his Mercedes. So he’s not really in the mood to appreciate the beauty of the ancient city. The cathedral bell is striking four when he parks in front of the solid Victorian house. Clough’s flashy jeep is already outside.
‘What took you so long?’ says Clough.
‘Bloody Norfolk drivers,’ says Nelson.
‘This is Lincolnshire,’ says Clough.
‘Same difference.’
Clough smooths down his pink polo shirt. Nelson averts his eyes from it. In his opinion, Clough has been dressing more and more inappropriately since he left Nelson’s aegis. He blames Cassandra, Clough’s actress wife.
‘Did you ring the family?’ he says.
‘Yes. I explained that we’ve found remains that might be Emily’s.’
‘How did they take it?’
