Read Online Necessary as Blood by Deborah Crombie - Free Book Online

that the great Welsh dresser just fit beneath the low ceiling, and she wondered if it had been part of the original kitchen furnishings. The hearth, too, was enormous, and she guessed it had been the working fireplace when the kitchen had been the dark, subterranean heart of the house.
    The kitchen was still the heart of the house. She gazed at one of Charlotte’s drawings, stuck haphazardly on the fridge door. Now she could see their faces, Naz and Sandra, here in this room with their child.
    She finished the samosa and wiped her fingers on an embroidered tea towel. It was enough to keep her hunger from distracting her, and she had things to do. Sitting at the table, she searched in her handbag for a notepad and pen and took out her phone.
    First, she called Mile End Hospital, then the Royal London, identifying herself. Neither reported a casualty fitting Naz Malik’s description. Gemma wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
    Next, she rang Bethnal Green Police Station, working her way through the phone-tree options until she got a real live person, a duty officer who identified herself as Sergeant Singh. From her voice, Gemma imagined her as young, slight, and pretty, but she spoke with a competent briskness.
    “I’d like to speak to the detective investigating the disappearance of Sandra Gilles,” said Gemma, having offered her credentials. “It would have been in May.”
    “Oh, right. Weird one, that.” The sergeant’s tone was conversational. Gemma wondered if Bethnal Green was quiet at dinnertime on a Saturday night. “Inspector Weller handled that, but he’s not available this weekend.”
    “Surely you’ve got a mobile number, or some other contact where he can be reached.”
    “Um, no, actually. He’s gone to his son’s wedding in Shropshire.Said he’d throw his mobile in the toilet if anyone rang.” The hint of humor was replaced by alertness. “That case is months old. Why is it so urgent?”
    “Because Sandra Gilles’s husband seems to have disappeared this afternoon.” Gemma gave her the details. “I know it’s early for an official alert, but under the circumstances I think you can make an exception.”
    “I’ll pass it along.” All levity had disappeared from Singh’s voice. “What about the little girl? Do we need to contact social services?”
    “She’s with a family friend for tonight.” Gemma passed on Tim’s address and phone number, added her own contact information, then said, “Listen, could you leave a message with your Inspector Weller, just in case he checks in? Ask him to ring me at his earliest convenience.”
    She hung up, knowing she’d taken all reasonable steps, but feeling restless and dissatisfied. Checking the notes she’d made while talking to Tim, she rang directory inquiries, trying to track down a personal number for Louise Phillips, Naz Malik’s partner. But although it was a common name, she got no matches. Louise Phillips might be ex-directory, or might have only a mobile, as was so often the case nowadays.
    A computer search might yield better results, however, and Gemma knew no one more able to follow threads on the Internet than her colleague at Notting Hill, DC Melody Talbot.
    But when she rang Melody’s mobile, it went to voice mail. Gemma left a brief message, apologizing for disturbing her on a Saturday night. As she hung up, she chided herself for having assumed Melody would be available. Melody was, after all, young and attractive, and the fact that she didn’t share details of her personal life with Gemma didn’t mean she didn’t have one.
    Still, Gemma was curious. Most of her colleagues were only too willing to share their off-duty exploits in excruciating detail. Why not Melody?
     
    “She’ll have the sautéed foie gras.”
    “No, she won’t.” Melody Talbot gave her father a tight smile. “You know I can’t stand foie gras.”
    “The foie gras is one of the Ivy’s specialities,” Ivan Talbot announced,