Hey You, Pretty Face Page 2

  “Oh, no you don’t, Jack Rutherford, or the doctor will be on at you for your cholesterol again. It’s not good for you, not with the amount you put on things.” He let it go. The battle was not one he’d win. He’d try and swipe a bit when she wasn’t looking. Taking the plate to the table, he sat down and opened the jar of mustard. He smeared a bit next to the beef, then did the same with the horseradish. When he was satisfied, he picked up a Yorkshire pudding and bit into it, the crunch from the upper shell reverberating in his ears until it softened in his mouth. He dipped the rest into the horseradish as Janine watched, leaning back against the sink.

  “You always make the best Yorkshires, Janine. Did you have a glass of wine with yours? I could do with one if there is some.”

  “I’ll get you one. I only had the one with my dinner. A bit of a headache again.”

  “Again? You’ve had a lot recently, love. Why don’t you go to the doctor?” He started on the second Yorkshire and repeated the process, dipping it in horseradish. He watched as she poured him a glass of wine and set it down in front of him. She pulled out a chair and joined him at the kitchen table while he ate.

  “Women get headaches all the time. Anyway, what’s the story with the baby? Where was the little one found and is it alright?”

  “Mercifully, yes. It will be fine. It’s a little girl. A woman handed it in at the hospital this morning then fled, even though it wasn’t hers. She found it in the church doorway last night and took it home, we assume. Until we can trace her, and preferably the mother too, we haven’t a lot to go on. In the meantime, the baby will stay at the hospital for observation, then it will go to a foster home, I expect. Poor mite. What a start in life, eh? They reckon it’s only a day or two old.” He slipped a roast potato into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I wonder what possesses someone to abandon their baby like that, and on such a cold night too. Why not take it to the hospital?” Jack was thinking out loud.

  “She must be in a desperate situation, is all I can think, and probably young, too. If she’s underage, she’ll not want anyone to know, not even the hospital, for fear of getting in trouble. Or maybe get her boyfriend in trouble? If he’s still around? Maybe he’s as young as she is.”

  “Hmm, maybe. We’ve all made mistakes at that age. Though this is a big one.”

  “I agree, but until you find the mother, how will you know anything about the situation, and possibly return her child to her? Can you do DNA testing?”

  “It’s a bit trickier than that, I’m afraid. DNA is only of use if there is someone in the system with a match, though I know for a fact that with nearly all offences now, DNA is taken and stored in the system. That means that even begging, being drunk and disorderly, or taking part in a demonstration could put you on the DNA register whether you like it or not. It used to be taken only for more serious crimes. But like I say, there has to be someone to match it to. The added fly in the ointment is that a baby’s DNA is never likely to be in the system because they’ve not had chance to commit a crime. And with paternity testing, you usually have at least one parent present, usually both.”

  Janine sat thoughtfully for a minute.

  “What’s up, Janine?” Jack asked her. “What are you thinking?”

  “There was an article of the news, a couple of months back, I think, about DNA testing. There’s a good deal of data in the database that they say shouldn’t still be being kept, from folks not convicted and whatnot. Anyway, the reporter said something about a new test, from somewhere up north Leicester way, where they are trying to match family members’ DNA to other family members. Apparently, there are a few bits of our DNA that show who’s related, and they were trying to make the test more accurate. It was rather interesting, actually; can’t you use that?”

  “I’ve never heard of it. It must be new and not fully available yet.” He finished his meal, licked his knife and fork clean, and then sat back holding the remainder of his glass of wine. “But I like your thought. If we had access to the technology, maybe we could find out who is a likely parent of the child because there’s the baby’s mother to think about too, her own need for medical attention perhaps. And the father.” He drained the glass and stood up quickly, making Janine jump.

  “Janine, you might be on to something there. I’ll make some calls and look into it first thing tomorrow. But right now, I think it’s time to let that exquisite roast beef dinner go down and start that movie in front of the fire, don’t you?” He smiled.

  But as Janine knew, Jack would be fast asleep not long after the opening credits and would pretend it had been a great film when he awoke at the end. It amused her that he thought she didn’t know, and she’d never let on to him otherwise.

  Chapter Five

  Jack had just boiled the kettle in the small tea room at the station, unofficially known as ‘the coffee cupboard’ because in fact it wasn’t much more than a closet with a tap and sink. But it was closer to the squad room than the main one. It had become the place to hide out with a mug of Nescafe for many of the team, particularly after a late night on the town. And that’s why Eddie was headed inside – coffee and quiet. With two people in there, the cupboard was full.

  “Morning, Eddie. You look like shit. Another late one, eh?”

  “Do us a favour and put some hot water on a teaspoonful? Two sugars.”

  Jack watched Eddie nurse his right temple, a pained expression on his face.

  “You don’t want His Highness to see you like this again. What’s going on? Woman trouble, or is it their man trouble again?”

  Eddie had been caught with more than his fair share of married women over the couple of years they’d worked together, and had only recently found himself getting a hiding from a surprised spouse whose husband had come home early. The bruises were only fading now.

  “Leave it out, won’t you?”

  Jack watched as he rubbed his temple again. “So, what happened?”

  “Sue dumped me last night and I went on a bender, if you must know. Shame, really. I thought she might have been the one, but apparently, I wasn’t to her.”

  Jack passed him a mug of instant coffee and watched Eddie take a couple of mouthfuls, looking like a camel at a desert watering hole.

  “Thanks,” Eddie said. “I needed that. My bloody head is splitting. Got any paracetamol on you?”

  “Sorry, I don’t carry them. I don’t get headaches. Maybe you should, though. You seem to have a few of late. You and my Janine are a right pair.”

  “I doubt your lovely wife was out getting bladdered last night, or any night come to that. What’s she doing with headaches anyway? Are you stressing her out, Jack?” His eyes danced mischievously. Eddie could get away with almost anything with anyone, and he knew it. And played to it.

  “Watch it, you,” Jack warned jokingly. “I dare say it’s women’s issues.”

  “Well, I know all about them, let me tell you.”

  “I’m sure you do. You’ve had so many of them. Enough women to launch your own study, I’d say.”

  “You’re only jealous.”

  They sipped their coffee in the quiet of the cupboard, then Eddie spoke again.

  “So, what did you do over the weekend, then? A couple of pints and fall asleep in front of the TV again?”

  “Ha-ha. Actually, I was called to the hospital yesterday afternoon. A newborn had been found and handed in. Evidentially, it had been abandoned Saturday night in the church doorway and an older lady dropped it off Sunday. Problem is, we know nothing about either woman – no details, no nothing except the one who handed her in was older and rather nervous. I can’t help but wonder what her issue is.”

  “And you’re guessing the other one, the mother, is perhaps in distress for some reason? Maybe young?”

  “I am, yes. It’s hard not to. Abandoned babies are not as common as they once were, but still, it’s not often a woman in a stable home environment abandons a child. It’s usually those in a bit of a pickle tha
t can’t deal with a baby.”

  “So, what’s the plan, then, Jack?” Eddie emptied his mug and set it on the drainer.

  “Well, we have to find them both, so let’s start with what camera footage we can get between the hospital and the church, see if we can pick anything up. The older woman wore a headscarf, apparently, and that would fit because it was as cold as a snowman’s big toe on Saturday night. You make a start on footage from around the church. I have a phone call to make, then I’ll join you.” Jack rinsed both their coffee mugs out and put them back on the shelf.

  “Right, will do. So, we have no idea what the mother looks like. I’m looking for someone possibly carrying a bundle, I’m guessing. That could take a while.”

  “Indeed. The monotonous part of police work, I know, but there’s no other way. At least we have a time frame of around eleven pm, so that’s a start, I suppose. I doubt she’d have a pram or buggy, though she may have had the child in a hold-all, maybe? Anyway, you know the drill. See what’s what.”

  An observer would never guess that Eddie Edwards was, in fact, Jack’s immediate boss and not the other way around, Eddie a DS to Jack’s DC.

  “I’ll just make another coffee before I start, I think; the sugar will do me good. Are there any biscuits in that tin, do you know? Otherwise, I’ll have to go to the vending machine.”

  “No idea.”

  Jack left Eddie sat in the coffee cupboard and went back to his desk. When he put his mind to it, Eddie was one of the best detectives there was in Croydon, possibly even the whole of the Metropolitan police, but when he had woman troubles, he was continually distracted and that meant Jack would end up covering for him yet again. Why women couldn’t resist Eddie Jack would never know – he looked fairly average and wasn’t exactly a David Hasselhoff lookalike. There were no ripped abs or sun-bleached hair for young Eddie Edwards, though he had a permanent glint in his eye that women found irresistible. Jack smiled. Maybe the man wore red silk shorts under his trousers – perhaps that was his secret charm.

  Still smiling to himself, Jack made his way to his desk to make a few calls. If Janine had heard the news story right, perhaps they could use the new DNA know-how to find the abandoned baby’s parents. Or at least one of them.

  Chapter Six

  Leanne Meadows was like any other fifteen-year-old living with their parents – for the most part, they got on but when she didn’t get her own way, tensions ran high and dummies were spat. The Monday before Christmas was one of those days. Leanne’s parents tried their best to give their daughter everything they could, sometimes at great personal expense to themselves, forfeiting holidays and weekends away so the funds could be put towards her cycle training and equipment. As a young national cycling champ for her age group, Leanne Meadows was on her way to stardom, and a cycling career that would take her on tours around the globe – as long as she carried on the path of hard work and commitment laid out before her. The cost of coaching and her never-ending equipment requirement, not to mention the constant toing and froing from events, was often the cause of rows between Leanne and her parents. But Leanne wasn’t selfish, and she knew her parents did their utmost for her in time and money, which she appreciated with all her heart. Leanne contributed to the cost by earning what she could through babysitting and working part-time at the garden centre. But then the latest row had kicked off about Leanne wanting to ride with her buddies on Christmas Day morning instead of being at home with her parents opening presents. Tempers were getting frayed.

  “Every day is important, Christmas Day or not!” Leanne yelled at her mother, who was having none of it.

  “I’m asking for one full day without having to worry about you while you’re out on your road bike. Just one day! I don’t think that is too much to ask under the circumstances, young lady.”

  “But don’t you see how important it is for me to train? I’ll bet other totally serious riders will train that morning. I’ll bet Froome or Deignan will be out – that’s what makes them champions. And I want to be a champion!”

  Their voices were getting louder and louder when Dave Meadows walked into the hallway.

  “What are you two yelling at now? They can probably hear you at the end of the street! And from what I could hear from the bathroom, you need to show a bit more respect to your mother, Lea, and not shout the odds.”

  “But Dad, you know I have to train every day.”

  “No you don’t, Lea. You need to train six days a week, so Christmas Day is your rest day this week.”

  “But Dad …”

  “That’s the end of it, Lea. Your mother is right. It’s one day together with no cycling. Rearrange your schedule for your rest day because it will be Christmas Day. And that’s the end of it.”

  “But—”

  “Lea, no. Now I suggest you carry on with whatever you were doing because this conversation is over and I’ve got to get to work. I’ve got an expensive daughter to pay for.”

  Leanne stood at the bottom of the stairs along with her mother, neither daring to say another word, because when Dave said it was final, it really was final, and that was how it was. Dave Meadows wore the trousers and got the last word. Leanne, though, was not happy, and as the tears threatened to break loose, she hurried back up the stairs to her room and slammed the door dramatically to let both parents know exactly how she felt.

  “She’ll get over it, Penny,” Dave said to his wife. “She needs to know it’s not always about her at every waking moment. She’ll be down when she’s hungry.”

  “I know.” Penny looked at her watch. “She’d better not be too long. I think she’s at the garden centre later this morning. I said I’d drop her off.”

  “I rest my case. You’re dropping her off – again. She could cycle if it was that important to her, couldn’t she? Anyway, I’m off.” He bent to give her a peck on the cheek before heading out to the car. Penny stood in the doorway and watched him leave, gave him a quick wave as he pulled away then closed the door. There was no sound coming from upstairs. She decided to leave her daughter to cool off a bit.

  Every family rowed from time to time, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. Teenage sulks were the worst. They had a habit of making the parents feel it was they who had done wrong and never the other way around. But Penny would never swap Leanne from their lives, not for the world. She’d lost one child, many years ago, and on occasions like birthdays and Christmas, she always wondered what she’d have grown up to be like all these years later. Would she have been like Leanne, or would they have been chalk and cheese? Still, Leanne was her baby, and that was why she couldn’t help but climb the stairs to her daughter’s room. She knocked gently on the door.

  “Come in,” said a tiny voice.

  Leanne was sprawled on the bed face down, head buried in her pillow. After a moment, she finally lifted her head up and looked at her mother, tears staining her red blotchy face. A bit of black mascara had leaked on to the pink pillowcase. Penny sat on the edge of her bed and gently stroked her daughter’s long blonde hair.

  “What time are you working today?”

  “I’m on at ten.”

  “Do you want a lift over?”

  “No, I’ll cycle. It’ll do me good.”

  “Okay, though it’s another cold day outside and it could sleet again later, so keep safe if you’re going to be a champ, eh?” She carried on stroking her daughter’s hair, a loving smile on her face. Leanne sat up on her bed and hugged her tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “I know you didn’t, darling, and we understand your ambition, but we’ll have a great Christmas Day together, won’t we?”

  Leanne blew her nose on a tissue she’d had up her sleeve, and dabbed her eyes dry.

  “Of course we will, Mum.”

  “Come on, you’d better sort your makeup out before you go. Shall I make you a hot chocolate?”

  Leanne nodded, a small smile brightening her face a
little as she edged off the bed and ran her fingers through her hair, gathering herself together.

  “Love you, Mum.”

  “Love you too, Leanne.”

  Chapter Seven

  Her shift at the garden centre finished, Leanne changed from her jeans into her cycle clothes and, with her other belongings in her backpack slung over her shoulder, set off towards the back entranceway where her road bike was securely parked and padlocked.

  It didn’t take long to cycle the route home. The Wickham Road was a busy one, running back into Croydon from the west. The garden centre was only about ten miles from home and if the traffic was forgiving, it didn’t take her long to get to and from work. Coming up to Christmas, she was glad of the money the extra shifts gave her, despite the cold.

  Leanne checked that her cycle lights were turned on as the first spots of sleet began to fall. The late afternoon air was cold and damp and getting wetter by the minute, and the light was fading fast. She waited for a gap in the traffic, wishing she had her warm winter leggings on, then joined the mayhem of headlights headed back towards Cedar Road and home. In the near darkness, considerate cars gave her a wide berth, but a truck buzzed her hardly an inch from her elbow. Leanne yelled a curse after the driver, holding tight to her handlebars to steady the bike.

  Leanne hated heavy traffic, though she was used to it. Being a cyclist meant many hours on the road with all kinds of hazards; luckily it was only a short journey home.

  She had gone only a couple of miles when she discovered a problem. Knowing precisely how her bike handled, Leanne instinctively knew she had a puncture.

  “Damn it,” she exclaimed, and slowed to a stop around the corner of a side road away from the traffic as the last of the air leaked out of the tyre. She slipped off her cycling gloves and laid them in the grass as she crouched over the offending wheel. In the fading light, she got to work quickly, taking the tyre off and removing the inner tube, swapping it for the spare she carried in her puncture pack. Her fingers were bitterly cold, and getting the new tube to sit properly inside the tyre was taking far longer than it would have normally. Leanne was getting more and more frustrated and cold the longer it took.