‘What did you think of Jos and Freya?’
‘If they were a couple, I’ll eat my hat. And yours.’
‘You didn’t see her face when he took the photograph off the mantelpiece?’ asked Dixon.
‘No, why?’
‘There was a bottle of eye drops behind it; no better way to make it look as though you’ve been blubbing. He must’ve seen it and taken them when he put it back. It wasn’t there when I was straightening the picture.’
‘They just didn’t seem natural together, to me.’
‘Well, they wouldn’t be, would they? Not after the revelation that they’re brother and sister.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘How would you feel if you found out I was your long lost brother?’
‘Sick.’
‘Really?’
‘I’m carrying your child.’
‘And if you weren’t?’
‘I’d still feel sick.’
‘There was no hint of that, was there?’
‘Lou said she wasn’t entirely happy with the father either,’ said Jane. She was watching the cars flashing by on the opposite carriageway, the sets of headlights few and far between.
‘He knows we’re looking for his son, so I would’ve expected his first question to be “Have you found him?” Instead we got, “You again.”’
‘We’ve been here before, haven’t we? And last time it was because the person knew damn well where the child was.’
Dixon was turning into the visitors’ car park at Express Park. ‘The thought had crossed my mind,’ he said, idly.
‘It would be a hell of a coincidence, wouldn’t it?’ Jane knew what she was doing, a hint of mischief in her voice. ‘First they meet at college, and then again at Zinc.’
They were walking across to the side entrance when Dixon spotted Dean Wevill on the ramp, waiting for the electric gates of the staff car park to open.
‘Give me a minute, will you.’ Then he walked across to the bottom of the ramp, flagging down Wevill as he was turning for home.
‘Off back to Devon?’ he asked, when Wevill wound down the window.
‘Yes, Sir. Back on Monday morning now, I’m afraid.’
‘It looks like we’ve found a second set of remains on that building plot in Torquay,’ said Dixon. ‘Do you live anywhere near there?’
‘Not really, I’m in Exmouth.’
‘Only the dig’s starting in the morning and I need someone to go along and keep an eye on it.’ He waved his hand. ‘Not to worry. I can find someone else.’
‘A second set of remains?’
‘An adult female, aged thirty or so. There’s hair and teeth so we should get a name soon enough.’
‘I can go if you—’
‘No, it’s fine. Have a good weekend.’
‘What was that all about?’ asked Jane, when Dixon jogged back across the car park.
‘Just baiting a trap.’
‘What was it I need to see, Mark?’ asked Dixon, approaching the one occupied workstation in the incident room, the glow from the computer screen the only light on anywhere.
‘The filing cabinet in Diana Hope-Bruce’s home office,’ replied Mark, looking away from the screen. ‘There’s a box of documents on the desk there. I’ve fished out what looks the most important to me, but I’m no lawyer, so I thought you’d better have a rummage. There’s a Memorandum of Understanding and all sorts of other stuff.’
‘Understanding of what?’ asked Dixon, watching the footage on the screen.
‘It looks like the cider farm has been or is being sold. That’s what it looks like to me anyway,’ replied Mark. ‘One hundred and twenty million quid.’
‘Funny nobody’s mentioned that before,’ said Jane.
‘Have you heard from Sarah?’
