Free Blood Money by Chris Collett Page B

the hospital must help,’ said Mariner.
    ‘It’s a useful cushion, yes.’
    Nicely understated, thought Mariner. ‘There must be other nursery managers who would like that contract.’
    ‘I daresay there are, but they haven’t discussed it with me.’
    ‘Which other nurseries are closest to you, geographically? ’
    Trudy Barratt gave them a couple of names, which Mariner mentally noted.
    ‘And they’re doing well?’
    ‘You’d have to ask them that.’
    ‘One of the things we must consider is whether this could be personal,’ DCI Sharp went on. ‘Can you think of any reason why someone might want to bring your nursery into disrepute?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Anyone who might simply want to make life difficult for you? What about any staff who have recently left?’
    Trudy Barratt smiled. ‘You clearly don’t know anything about the early years childcare sector, Chief Inspector, staff moving on is a feature of life.’
    ‘Anyone who went under a cloud?’
    ‘Not that I can remember. Generally staff leave for promotion, or to go and work in schools where the hours are more favourable, or to start their own families.’
    ‘All the same, we’ll need a list of all those who have left in the last six months.’
    ‘It will be a long list.’
    Mariner followed Trudy Barratt back into the office, where she was about to take another file off the shelf when on the CCTV monitor they saw a man appear at the nursery gates. He looked harassed, and by the time he’d reached the door Mariner had already correctly identified him. The buzzer sounded and in a rare traffic-free moment he spoke into the intercom. ‘Peter Klinnemann,’ he said, breathlessly. ‘I’m Jessica’s father.’

Chapter Five
    Tony Knox had taken Christie back to Granville Lane, where the station had erupted to the activity levels of a typical weekday morning. ‘We’ll go up to DI Mariner’s office,’ he told receptionist Delrose, signing Christie in. ‘It will be quieter.’ And away from prying eyes. ‘Can you let the efit tech know when he gets here?’
    An incident room was being created adjacent to CID on the first floor and Knox had to steer Christie past officers laden with files and equipment, holding open the doors and letting others take precedence.
    In Mariner’s office Knox closed the door on the pandemonium. ‘Have a seat,’ he told Christie. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
    Christie declined. ‘Who’s she?’ She was staring at the computer printout pinned to the board above Mariner’s desk, the face of a young woman.
    ‘Madeleine.’
    Christie was watching him expectantly, waiting for more. Knox hesitated. ‘She’s a young woman who was murdered last year,’ he told her.
    ‘Oh.’
    Knox was reluctant to give her all the grisly details. When Mariner had first stuck the picture there, eight months ago, anyone coming into his office had reacted in the same way, their attention drawn to the haunting image. Charlie Glover had even accused Mariner of being macabre, but it was interesting how quickly they’d all, including Knox, become inured to it. He didn’t even know why the boss had kept it. There were plenty of other unsolved murders festering in the filing cabinets. Why should this one be different? Could be because she was a young female, or because she’d so recently given birth, meaning that somewhere out there was a child without its mother. Or perhaps the frustration was that she wasn’t strictly unsolved.
    ‘She was found dumped down a drain, tied up with duct tape and wrapped in bin liners. There wasn’t much of her face left, so what we’ve got there is a computer mock-up.’
    He’d said too much. Christie had paled, the mark on her face standing out more lividly. She swallowed hard. ‘Did you catch the person who did it?’
    ‘Not exactly.’
    It was Charlie Glover mostly who’d been instrumental in tracking down the Albanian national whose prints they’d found all over the tape; the same man they were