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‘Hmm, doesn’t present like your normal homeless person,’ Penn acknowledged, feeling that first burn of curiosity that came with an anomaly.
‘To summarise, this man is approximately mid-forties, reasonably healthy until the aneurism, definitely wealthy at some point but has not one shred of identification. Who was he? And where is his family? Because he might have been living on the streets, but he hadn’t been doing it for very long.’
Penn wondered if the identification of this John Doe was really going to be as straightforward as his boss might have first thought.
ELEVEN
Bettina Ford lived in a new-build detached house on a recent development just out of West Hagley.
Despite being detached, the space between the house and its neighbour was less than the length of an average-sized person.
Kim remembered the placards mounted all around the development screaming ‘affordable housing’. She knew that meant most of the properties would be upwards of three hundred thousand and approximately ten per cent would be below that figure.
The house she was visiting had a bay window next to the front door with two identical white uPVC windows above. A single car garage was tacked on to the side.
The door opened and a baby cried in the background before the woman opened her mouth.
‘Sorry, can I help you?’
Her hair was fashioned into an untidy bun on top of her head, and her hands were covered in splashes of paint.
They both held up their IDs.
‘Oh, goodness,’ she said, looking along the road. ‘Is someone hurt?’
Kim shook her head, ‘No, it’s you we’ve come to see. Bettina, isn’t it?’
‘Only if you’re my mother and I haven’t done my homework on time.’
Kim smiled.
‘Otherwise it’s Betts.’
‘Okay, Betts, may we come in?’
‘Please do, seeing as you know my name.’
They stepped into the house and followed Betts to the rear and into a sunroom.
A baby Kim guessed to be around six months old was making contented sucking noises as it slept.
‘Oh, a great age,’ Bryant said, smiling into the Moses basket.
‘Yes, at this stage I can be sure they’ll stay where I left them. The other two are at school so…’ She indicated towards a small chest of drawers she seemed to be refurbishing.
‘Your job?’ Kim asked, taking a seat in one of the wicker chairs.
‘Not really. I’m not confident enough to put myself out there so I just tinker.’
Although Kim didn’t know much about restoration, it looked like Betts knew what she was doing.
‘I don’t have an actual job. I’m just a wife and mother.’
‘Hardest job in the world,’ Bryant said, glancing again into the Moses basket.
Kim had the feeling Bryant was getting broody for a grandchild, but his only child, Laura, was focussed on her midwifery career.
‘We understand you attend a yoga class with a few other friends?’
