Free No Other Darkness by Sarah Hilary Page A

ventilation pipes in the kitchen and bathroom.’
    ‘That’s . . . It’s allowed, in a show house. The gas supply wasn’t switched on, it was the summer. We finished it before we sold it. Of course we did.’
    ‘Tell us about the travellers,’ Noah said. ‘Who were they?’
    Merrick moved his eyes away from Marnie, in relief. ‘Women mostly, a bit of a commune everyone said. The council moved them on.’
    ‘Did you see any of them, to talk to?’
    Merrick looked confused, as if he’d been asked whether he’d ever had a conversation with a zoo animal, or a cardboard box.
    ‘They can’t have been happy,’ Noah said. ‘Did you speak with any of them?’
    ‘No. No, that was all dealt with by the council, and the police.’
    ‘The police were involved?’
    ‘I should think so. They usually are, aren’t they? These people never move without a fight. And there’d been trouble, the usual thing. Burglaries in the area, car theft.’ He appealed to Marnie with his hands spread. ‘You know what they’re like.’
    ‘Do you think the travellers knew about the bunkers?’ Noah asked.
    ‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t think so. The way they were living, there wasn’t any room for them to go digging around. It was all caravans.’ Merrick made a sound of distaste. ‘Notthe romantic gypsy kind, either. I’m talking top of the range, more than I could afford.’
    ‘And the police moved them on. When did that happen?’
    ‘A month or so before we went on-site. I can get you the exact date. It’ll be with the rest of the paperwork.’ He straightened himself out. ‘I thought you were here about the bomb.’
    ‘The bomb?’ Noah echoed.
    ‘There are UXBs all over this part of London. The Germans bombed the hell out of it. It’s why the site was closed for a couple of months.’ He glanced out of the chicken-wired window at the half-built high-rise. ‘You think it looks like a bomb site now . . . They keep finding the real thing all over here. This new development I’m talking about has German backing. You should’ve seen their faces when we told them about the delay. Blame the Luftwaffe, I said. That went down a storm, I can tell you.’
    He stopped speaking at last, pulling his hands from the desk as if he was rescuing them from quicksand. The light winked on the bald dome of his head.
    Noah felt sorry for Merrick. He’d got up this morning thinking it would be a day like any other, not thinking the police would come to his mobile office and look accusingly at his wall calendar, quiz him about planning permissions, bring dead children to his door.
    ‘So you have no idea,’ Marnie said, ‘who had access to the bunkers five years ago?’
    ‘None at all. I honestly thought they were filled. The paperwork . . .’
    ‘I’ll need it. And the name of the official at the planning office who provided it.’
    Merrick nodded. ‘I’ll do that.’ He looked up at them. ‘The other bunkers . . . Have you looked inside those?’
    ‘Not yet,’ Marnie said. ‘It’s next on our to-do list.’
    Merrick shuddered. ‘You’ll tell me if you turn up anything else?’
    ‘If there are questions, we’ll be back to ask them. Otherwise, you can follow it on the news, like everyone else.’
     • • • 
    When they were back in the car, Marnie said, ‘You were right about the bunkers. Six or seven. We’ll have to move the whole road out.’ She rested her hands on the wheel, looking across the site to where the Thames ran away from them.
    ‘I think he’s on the level,’ Noah said. ‘Merrick. He seemed genuinely gutted.’
    ‘It’s going to hit him where it hurts: bad publicity.’
    She started the engine. ‘Let’s see what the planning office has to say. I need to get back for the press briefing. A story this size is going to break soon, no matter how hard we sit on it. Did you get anywhere with the labels from the tins?’
    ‘Yes and no.’ He’d done a preliminary search as soon he’d got