Necessary as Blood

do.‘
    ‘Breaking down the stall? This friend has a flower stall?‘
    Tim nodded. ‘Roy Blakely. Sandra worked for him on Sundays all through school and art college. She‘d known him since she was a child — he was like a dad to her.‘
    ‘And she didn‘t tell him where she was going?‘
    ‘No. Several people who knew her from the market reported seeing her in Columbia Road, but there was nothing after that. Just nothing. Naz was frantic, but at first not even the police would take him seriously. Then when they did, they searched the house for signs of... of foul play.‘ He swallowed, looking round uneasily, and Gemma imagined the SOCO drill: luminol, prints, any evidence of violence, alien DNA, fibre transfer. What if Sandra had gone back home unexpectedly that day, found her husband there with a lover?
    ‘They questioned everyone Naz knew,‘ Tim went on. ‘His partner, his clients, his neighbours. Naz said no one ever looked at him the same way afterwards.‘
    ‘They were doing their job,‘ Gemma said.
    ‘I know. But it didn‘t help, did it? They didn‘t find her, and now Naz is gone, too.‘
    Gemma paused, listening. She heard movement and a soft murmur from upstairs, not just Alia‘s voice, but a child‘s counterpoint. Charlotte was talking. Quietly, she said, ‘Tim, you may know more about Naz‘s mental state than anyone else. When he rang wanting to see you today, was he upset or anxious? Do you think he might have been contemplating suicide?‘
    Tim‘s face blanched. ‘No. I mean, I know he was grieving, and angry, but he‘d never have done that to Charlotte. And if anything, he sounded...‘ Looking puzzled, he groped for a word. ‘Excited.‘
    ‘That doesn‘t rule out suicide,‘ said Hazel, pragmatically, but it seemed to put Tim on the defensive again.
    ‘I‘m telling you, Naz wouldn‘t do that. There has to be some other explanation.‘ He looked at Gemma. ‘Can we report him missing?‘
    ‘Not officially, no. Not until tomorrow. But considering the circumstances, the local nick should be put on alert. I‘ll see if there‘s anything in the system yet that might be connected, check out hospital admissions, have a word with the neighbours. And if you‘ll give me Naz‘s business-partner‘s name, I‘ll see if I can get a home number or address.‘
    There was the thump of footsteps on the stairs, the sound of a childish protest.
    ‘Tim,‘ Gemma said hurriedly, ‘I‘d like your permission to have a look round the house, see if there‘s a note, or a phone number, anything that might be helpful. Unofficially, of course.‘
    ‘But I-‘
    ‘There‘s no one else to ask.‘
    ‘Right. Okay.‘ He straightened his shoulders, taking the weight of this responsibility.
    ‘And, Tim,‘ Gemma added, ‘I‘ll need a description.‘

Chapter Five

While working in the eerie darkness of those deserted Spitalfields nights — and with the room and myself working towards the same goal — I have never felt so close to the past.

Dennis Severs, 18 Folgate Street:
The Tale of a House in Spitalfields

    Alia had set down Charlotte‘s little pink bag and got as far as the front door when Charlotte realized she meant to leave without her. ‘Lia!‘ she screamed, latching on to Alia‘s leg with the tenacity of a limpet.
    Loosening the child‘s grip, Alia knelt and hugged her. ‘You go with Dr Tim, Char. I‘ll see you soon.‘ She looked up at Gemma, helplessly, her eyes filling.
    Gemma reached down and gathered Charlotte into her arms, automatically settling her on her hip as she opened the door. Afternoon was fading into evening, the shadow from the great spire of the church seeming to loom over the narrow street. There were more cars, now, and the sounds of voices and television drifted from a few town-house windows, left open in the August warmth.
    The child‘s body was tense, unyielding. Strands of her hair tickled Gemma‘s nose, smelling of baby shampoo and, faintly, of curry.
    ‘Lia,‘ Charlotte wailed again, ‘want to go with you.‘ She wriggled, then lunged towards Alia, almost causing Gemma to lose her balance. Gemma gripped Charlotte more tightly, feeling her small, firm body, and the heat radiating through her thin T-shirt.
    ‘Go,‘ Gemma mouthed at Alia.
    Alia gave them an uncertain smile, then turned and walked swiftly towards Brick Lane, head down, her heavy leather handbag on her shoulder.
    ‘You‘d better go, too,‘ Gemma said to Tim. Charlotte was