Necessary as Blood

we know.‘
    He sighed. ‘Okay, you‘re right. Call the social worker. But those decisions are hers to make, not yours. And...‘ He held up his hand like a traffic cop to stop her interrupting. ‘And I‘ll see what I can dig up on Sandra Gilles‘s brothers. According to the reports, they did have alibis for the time she disappeared. But we don‘t know yet about the day Naz was killed. Now‘ — he glanced at his watch, which suddenly seemed to Gemma an infuriating habit — ‘I‘ve got to get back to Bethnal Green. I‘ll ring you if we come up with anything concrete.‘ He kissed her cheek. ‘Go see your mum.‘
    Gemma watched as he got in his car, waving to her as he pulled away. She suddenly felt ridiculous, standing in the sun in the middle of a street whose name she didn‘t remember, feeling angry with Kincaid for no reason other than that he had been bossy and slightly patronizing. If she was going to get her knickers in a twist any time a man behaved like that, she‘d long ago have given up her job. It must be the worry over her mum getting to her.
    She would go to the hospital, of course. But first she was going to ring Janice Silverman. And then, after she‘d seen her mum, she was going to pay another visit to Tim Cavendish. Tim had been reluctant to tell them about Sandra‘s rumoured relationship with the mysterious club owner because he was protecting Naz. And if he‘d held back one thing, were there others? Had Naz told him about Sandra‘s brothers?

    ‘Okay, what have we got?‘ Kincaid looked round at the occupants of the incident room at Bethnal Green station, who looked as bedraggled as the room itself. Polystyrene cups and plastic sandwich boxes littered the tabletops; papers had drifted out of folders and onto the floor; articles of clothing had been draped over chair backs — all signs of what Kincaid hoped had been a productive afternoon. While he‘d been out someone had got the whiteboard organized and had tacked up a set of the crime-scene photos.
    He cleared space to sit on one of the tables as the female constable who‘d been taking the public calls said, ‘Nothing on the phones, sir. A couple of nutters — we‘ll check them out just in case — but nobody who sounds reliable has reported seeing anything in the park. I‘ve pulled a photo of Naz Malik from the Gilles file and had it copied. We‘ll get it posted round the park, and will have someone take it door-to-door in the nearby streets as well.‘
    ‘Nice initiative,‘ Kincaid said, trying not to notice that the constable had stripped down to the barest of tank tops and didn‘t appear to be wearing a bra. ‘And you‘re...‘
    ‘Ashley, sir.‘ She pushed a damp wisp of hair into her glossy brown ponytail and smiled. ‘Detective Constable Ashley Kynaston.‘
    ‘Newly promoted to CID,‘ put in Sergeant Singh, with the emphasis on newly, apparently not disposed to tolerate grandstanding by another attractive female officer.
    ‘I‘m beginning to think this is better than working at the Yard,‘ Kincaid murmured to Cullen, who had just come in, but Cullen looked at him blankly. Kincaid sighed. No wonder the poor bugger couldn‘t get a date.
    He addressed the group again. ‘Okay, no joy there. Anything from Forensics?‘
    ‘Nothing immediately useful from the park,‘ said Singh, briskly taking charge. ‘But they‘ve filed samples for comparison in case they‘re needed later — a few unidentified shreds of cloth as well as the soil and leaf mould. It was too dry for prints. Nor was there anything of note in Mr Malik‘s personal effects. The techies have turned the mobile over to us, and I‘ve got someone going through the numbers. All the most recent calls were from his friend Dr Cavendish, his nanny and his partner.‘ She spoke without notes, and Kincaid guessed he had her organizational skills to thank for the whiteboard and photos.
    ‘And the house?‘ he asked.
    ‘Still working on it. We‘ll need prints for comparison, but there‘s nothing obvious. They‘ve taken in two computers for analysis.‘
    ‘All right. They can carry on, but I‘ll want to have a look myself at anything interesting in the house — papers, diaries, photos.‘ These were the items he always preferred to see himself, as it was often the things you weren‘t looking for that turned out to be the most helpful. And in this case, particularly, when they might be dealing with not one crime but two, he wanted to get a