Necessary as Blood

sense of this couple, this household.
    Gemma had seemed to feel a connection with them, and with their child — perhaps too much of a connection, he thought, remembering their last conversation. ‘Sergeant Singh, when you investigated Sandra Gilles‘s brothers after she disappeared, was there any suggestion that they were involved with serious drugs? As in dealing?‘
    ‘I can tell you that.‘
    Turning, Kincaid saw a man leaning against the doorway, hands in the baggy pockets of his trousers. He still wore the jacket of his grey suit, which stretched across his broad shoulders, but the tail end of his tie hung from the jacket pocket. His greying hair was buzzed short, accentuating the pouches under his eyes.
    ‘DI Weller,‘ said Kincaid.
    ‘Got it in one.‘ Weller came into the room, propping himself on the edge of Singh‘s table, and Kincaid sensed a subtle shift in the room‘s alliances, a withdrawal. None of the Bethnal Green crew would want to be seen sucking up to Scotland Yard in front of their boss.
    ‘Kevin and Terry Gilles are not the brightest clams in the pail,‘ Weller went on. ‘I can‘t see them doing more than threatening kids for their lunch money. One of them — Kevin, I think it is — has been taken in a — few times for disorderly conduct, had his driving licence suspended. Apparently has a bit of a problem with his drink, but that‘s a long way from drug kingpin.‘
    ‘Duncan Kincaid, by the way. Scotland Yard,‘ Kincaid said, ignoring Weller‘s slightly mocking tone. The DI was doing a fairly good job of playground bully himself, but they were all going to have to get along nicely if they were to get anything accomplished. ‘And this is Sergeant Cullen,‘ he added, and Cullen gave Weller a wary nod. Kincaid glanced at his watch, smiled at the rest of the room. ‘Long day, everyone, and good job. Let‘s reconvene first thing in the morning, shall we?‘ He turned back to Weller. ‘Inspector Weller, can we buy you a drink?‘

    They sat at one of the few tables squeezed onto the pavement outside a pub in Commercial Street. Kincaid had chosen the establishment because it was within spitting distance of Naz Malik‘s Fournier Street house and he wanted to check on the forensics team afterwards. Weller had chosen the table on the pavement because he wanted to smoke.
    ‘I quit for six months,‘ Weller admitted when Cullen had gone for their pints. ‘But my son got married this weekend, and then this case...‘ He shrugged and lit a Benson & Hedges. Squinting past a stream of exhaled smoke, he held out a hand to Kincaid. ‘It‘s Neal, by the way. Sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. Bad day.‘
    Cullen returned with three carefully balanced pint glasses and managed to set them down with only a slight slosh. Weller nodded his thanks and held out a hand to him as well. ‘Neal.‘
    ‘Doug.‘
    Proper introductions settled, Weller drank, then wiped the foam from his lip. ‘I was saying... Didn‘t get a conviction today on a bastard we‘re certain is a serial rapist. Jury considered the evidence circumstantial and the judge couldn‘t convince them otherwise. Eighteen-year-old kid looks like a choirboy, and then there was me. Who‘re they gonna believe?‘
    ‘Tough luck,‘ Kincaid agreed.
    ‘For the next woman he lures into an alley.‘ Weller crushed out his cigarette with unnecessary force, then sighed. ‘But that‘s neither here nor there, is it? You want to talk about Naz Malik.‘
    ‘First, I want to talk about Sandra Gilles,‘ Kincaid said. ‘What do you think happened to her?‘
    Weller shrugged. ‘What are the options? One — the most likely — domestic row turned ugly, husband got rid of the evidence. But within an hour of her leaving the kid at Columbia Road, Naz Malik was seen very publicly waiting for his family in a bus-turned-restaurant in Brick Lane. What could he have done with her in that hour? His office wasn‘t far, but we went over every inch of the place and found nothing. And if she were meeting her husband, why leave the kid? And why not tell the friend at Columbia Road that she was meeting her husband?‘ Weller drank more of his pint and Cullen shifted in his chair, as if anticipating being sent to fetch the next round.
    ‘So maybe she went home for something, caught her husband unexpectedly in the house with someone else,‘ Cullen suggested.
    Weller shook his head. ‘Again, not enough time. Malik went straight from the