James got to the station at seven-fifteen.
The station was already buzzing with activities that particular hum of fluorescent lights and old coffee and people who had been here since before the sun came up and would still be here after it went down. The Ashford Hollow criminal investigation unit was small just four desks, one glass-walled office belonging to DCI Margaret Cole, a whiteboard on the far wall that currently had Nadia Petrova's name at the top in James's handwriting from yesterday morning.
Sara was at her desk.
DC Peters was at his desk eating a bacon sandwich and reading something on his screen with the expression of a man who had decided before arriving that today would not surprise him.
DC Yemi was standing at the printer waiting for something to finish printing with the focused patience of someone who had learned that the printer in this office did things on its own schedule and there was nothing to be done about it.
James hung up his coat , poured coffee and
Sat down.
"Morning," Peters said without looking up.
"Morning," James said.
Sara looked at him, and said nothing.
Yemi collected his papers from the printer, turned around
"Sir," he said. "I've got something on Ryan Marsh."
James looked up.
"Talk," he said.
yemi came over and put the papers on James's desk printouts, a report, a photograph of a young man caught on what looked like a supermarket camera he was thin his eye Wass dyed way past his ears,And visible even in the grainy image something on the left side of his neck.
A wing.
"Ryan Marsh," Yemi said. "Twenty-two, last known address Bridge Road Coleford a minor record of possession, handling stolen goods, nothing recent." He paused. "But there's something else six weeks ago the landlord of the Bridge Road property called in a disturbance and officers attended to it , they found nothing at the flat Ryan wasn't there, no signs of forced entry, nothing obviously wrong."
"So?" Peters said from his desk.
"The attending officer made a note," Yemi said he pointed to a line halfway down the report, "a woman was seen leaving the building around the same time the disturbance was reported In a hurry apparently the officer noted it but didn't follow up no apparent relevance to what turned out to be nothing."
James looked at the line.
Female IC1, dark hair, well dressed, professional appearance left building quickly via main entrance approximately 21:40.
He read it twice.
Looked at Yemi.
"Good work," he said.
Yemi nodded and went back to his desk.
Peters looked over.
"Could be anyone," he said.
"Yes," James said.
"Dark hair well dressed professional." Peters shrugged. "Half the women in the county."
"Yes," James said again.
He put the report in his file.
Peters looked at him for a moment with the expression of a man who had something to say and was deciding whether to say it.
"James," he said.
"Go on."
"The Nadia case." Peters set his sandwich down. "I'm not trying to step on anything. But the way it looks a young woman, drug history, dodgy boyfriend with form, found in a park well It looks like what it looks like. Sometimes things are what they look like."
"Sometimes," James said.
"I've been doing this twenty-two years," Peters said in a not unkindly way, "The complicated explanation isn't always the right one."
"I know," James said.
Peters picked his sandwich back up.
"Just saying," he said.
"I heard you," James said.
He looked at the whiteboard.
Nadia Petrova's name at the top below it Ryan Marsh, danny Cole's statement and the toxicology results Sara had summarized in bullet points with the timeline from Sunday night to Monday morning when Carol Webb found her.
And in the corner of the whiteboard, separate from everything else, in smaller writing that he had added yesterday evening before he left
Harton district ,three months ago and moth.
Peters hadn't asked about that yet.
James was waiting for the day he did.
At eight-thirty he knocked on Margaret Cole's door.
She was already at her desk , James had never once arrived before her in eleven years of working in this building with her reading glasses on and two files open in front of her and a cup of tea that was probably her third.
"James," she said Not looking up.
"Have you got five minutes?"
She looked up then and read something in his face.
"Close the door," she said.
He closed it and sat in the chair across from her desk. The glass wall behind him meant the rest of the unit could see them but not hear them Peters pretending not to look, Yemi definitely not looking, Sara looking directly at her screen .
"Nadia Petrova," Margaret said "Where are we?"
"Toxicology confirmed benzodiazepines in high dose which was Ingested not injected most likely in a drink, manual asphyxiation, positional component, arranged afterward." He paused " all this shows it was planned. Dr. Webb is clear on that."
Margaret nodded.
"Ryan Marsh," James continued "Identified and his last known address is Colefor he has not been seen there in three weeks. Yemi found a report from six weeks ago disturbance at his address, a woman leaving in a hurry, dark hair, professional appearance which was not followed up at the time."
"Connected?"
"Unknown but it is filed ."
Margaret took her glasses off. Set them on the desk.
"What else?" she said.
James had known Margaret Cole for eleven years, he knew the particular quality of that question the weight she put on the else, the way it meant she already sensed there was something he had been building toward and was giving him the space to get there.
He got there.
"Three months ago," he said, " in Harton district a. woman about thirty-one years old was found at the bottom of her stairs it was filed as accidental fall and closed in eleven days."
Margaret was quiet.
"I read the file," James said, "Something bothered me at the time I couldn't name it." He paused "I can name it now."
"Go on."
"There was a moth in one of the scene photographs. Background detail. Bottom left corner. Nobody flagged it. Nobody connected it." He looked at her directly. "There was a moth at the Nadia Petrova scen has same placement and same deliberateness it was placed not fallen."
The office was very quiet.
Outside the glass wall Peters had stopped pretending not to look.
Margaret picked her glasses up put them back on and looked at James over the top of them the way she did when she was thinking hard and wanted him to know she was thinking hard.
"One moth in a background photograph," she said "and a feeling."
"Yes," James said. "That's what I'm bringing you."
"The Harton case was handled by DI Reeves," she said "Closed and signed off."
"I know."
"Reeves is thorough."
"I know that too."
"You're asking me to authorize contact with another district about a closed case based on a moth in a photograph and a feeling in your stomach."
"Yes," James said.
Margaret looked at him.
James looked back.
In eleven years she knew his record and she knew his clear-up rate, knew that the last time he had come to her with a feeling in his stomach it had taken three weeks and a lot of uncomfortable conversations but he had been right.
She also knew he had been wrong twice.
She picked up her pen.
"I'm not reopening the Harton case," she said "not yet, not on this."
"Understood."
"What I will authorize is an official request for the full Harton file and a conversation with DI Reeves Information sharing between districts which be considered routine" She wrote something, "If you find something concrete something I can put in front of the superintendent without him looking at me like I've lost my mind we talk again."
"That's enough," James said.
"It'll have to be" she handed him the authorization"and James"
He stood.
"Yes."
"Be careful with this," she said "Reeves won't appreciate the implication."
"I'm not implying anything," James said "I'm asking questions."
Margaret looked at him over her glasses
"That's what implications are," she said.
He was back at his desk by nine.
Sara slid a piece of paper across to him without looking up.
He looked at it.
Ryan Marsh three possible current addresses from Sara's contact in Coleford. A note at the bottom in Sara's handwriting third address ,neighbour says someone matching description seen there last week.
He looked at her.
"When did you...?"
"This morning," she said still not looking up. "While you were with Cole."
He folded the paper and put it in his pocket.
"After ten o'clock," he said.
Sara looked up then.
"The therapist?" she said.
"Yes"
She nodded once ,Peters looked over from his desk.
"The therapist," he said "Elena Voss I know her not personally she did a consultation on the Alderton case two years ago before your time Sara." He looked at James.
James said nothing.
Peters picked up his coffee.
"Just so you know," he said.
James looked at the clock.
Nine forty-seven.
He picked up his coat and walked out.