The Unquiet Dead. Gay Longworth

dream about her,’ said Bill, halfway down his cigarette. ‘She’s always laughing.’

      ‘I don’t,’ Jessie admitted. ‘You know the thing that terrifies me the most? I can’t remember what she sounded like. I can’t hear her voice.’

      ‘I’ve got tapes she sent me when I first went to Africa. I’ll send them to you, if you like.’

      She looked away from her brother crossly. ‘I don’t want tapes, Bill. I want her.’

      This statement was followed by the awkward silence that Jessie was used to getting from her brothers when she tried to talk about their mother. Her father was the same. None of them would talk to her about it.

      ‘I feel cheated,’ she said to the windowpane. ‘I want to go shopping with her for my wedding dress.’

      ‘Christ, Jess, I thought you said it was over with that guy.’

      ‘It is.’

      ‘Who are you getting married to then?’

      ‘I’m not getting married to anyone.’ Bill looked more perplexed than ever. ‘Oh, never mind,’ said Jessie, finishing her drink. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’

      ‘Boss?’ said a voice behind her. It was Burrows. ‘They need you at Marshall Street Baths.’

      ‘Is is Anna Maria?’

      ‘They wouldn’t tell me.’

      Burrows looked over at Bill, nodded curtly then returned to the door, which he held open for Jessie. She kissed her brother on the cheek; he held her hand.

      ‘You’ll be all right, Jess,’ he said.

      She pulled her hand away. Sometimes she wasn’t so sure.

      The media frenzy had doubled in the short time Jessie had been in the pub. White vans with satellite dishes and company logos were stretched back into Broadwick Street. She and Burrows made slow progress through the crowd. No one took much notice of them, they blended in with all the other hacks and hawks. As they pushed to the edge of the pack, in a quieter place further away Jessie saw Amanda Hornby. She was standing in front of a camera, a small microphone clipped on to her lapel. She glanced nervously at the spiral-bound pad she held in her hand. Jessie looked at her watch. A special bulletin. Live from the scene. There must have been some development or else there wouldn’t be this frenetic activity. Amanda looked up and caught her staring. Jessie tried to look away but it was too late, the news reporter had clocked her and she was coming over.

      ‘Oi, get back here!’ the cameraman shouted.

      ‘I’d do as he says,’ said Jessie.

      ‘Why are you back, Detective Inspector? What’s going on? Is Sarah Klein here to identify her daughter?’

      Sarah Klein? Here? ‘Three minutes to air,’ said the cameraman, sounding exasperated.

      ‘It’s not my case.’

      ‘But you’re here.’

      Jessie couldn’t argue with that.

      ‘Why?’

      A car pulled up to the barrier and Jessie inadvertently looked around. She saw the familiar red hair emerge.

      ‘Sally Grimes – isn’t she the pathologist who helped you with the celebrity murders?’ said the reporter. Jessie ignored her. ‘So you’ve definitely got a body then?’

      Jessie turned back to Amanda Hornby. ‘You know too much.’

      ‘That’s my job.’

      ‘Amanda!’ shouted the cameraman. Amanda put a finger to her ear then glanced down at her watch. She started walking slowly backwards. ‘I know nothing. Just one thing, give me one fact, that’s all I’m after.’

      Jessie watched her retreat.

      ‘One fact, that’s all,’ she pleaded again.

      ‘My brother fancies you,’ said Jessie flippantly. ‘And that’s a fact.’

      Amanda swore silently, turned to the camera and nodded once. ‘That’s right, Sarah Klein the mother of the missing girl arrived here ten minutes ago, creating quite a scene. She was driving her car, turned into Marshall Street just behind me and was blocked from continuing any further by the growing number of photographers and journalists who have congregated here. Eventually she got out of the car and forced her way though the crowd, refusing to answer any questions. It was only when the extent of her distress became evident that they allowed her to pass.’

      Jessie listened in horror.

      ‘That’s correct. The actress was due to appear in a West End production of Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf in a month’s time. The much-revered director, Timothy Powell, isn’t saying anything at present as to whether this is still the case, though it is assumed she will not carry on with a play the subject of which is a couple with an imaginary child. Things are looking less hopeful here. Just a few moments ago the pathologist Sally Grimes arrived and was rushed inside. Although the police are saying nothing at this stage, I think it is safe to assume that rumours regarding the discovery of a body are true. The exact cause of death is unknown, but it is being treated as suspicious. Sally Grimes became a fully qualified Home Office pathologist just a few weeks ago.’ Jessie watched the reporter’s face go taut with concentration as she listened to the next question from the studio. Amanda nodded. ‘That’s right, it means that Ms Grimes’ evidence can be used by prosecutors, in this case the Crown Prosecution Service, in a court of law. However, the police are refusing to confirm that Anna Maria Klein’s body has been found, so for the moment –’ she glanced briefly at Jessie – ‘nothing is fact.’

      Jessie fell in behind Burrows, and they made their way slowly to the front where Jessie showed her badge once more. Waiting at the door was Sally Grimes. Burrows raised the crime-scene tape for Jessie to duck under and she went to join Sally.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ Jessie whispered.

      ‘Carolyn Moore paged me.’

      ‘You know her?’

      Sally nodded. ‘In a manner of speaking.’

      ‘What did she want?’

      ‘They’ve found something they’ve never seen before. They want me to have a look at it.’

      “‘It”?’

      ‘That’s what the message said.’

      ‘How well do you know her?’

      ‘She’s a ball breaker.’

      ‘Any advice?’

      ‘Give her a wide berth,’ said the redheaded pathologist. ‘She wasn’t always like that.’

      The officers who had performed the search that morning milled around the foyer in silence. Somewhere a radio was on.

      ‘… Clinical psychologist Dr Martin Rommelt is here in the studio discussing the disappearance of Anna Maria Klein. Dr Rommelt, what effect do you think being rejected from Celebrity Big Brother, Jnr would have had on Anna Maria?’

      Jessie looked at Sally for explanation.

      ‘I heard this on the radio coming down here. Some journo found out that she’d put her name up for the Big Brother house, but was turned down because she wasn’t famous enough.’

      ‘And they think what exactly?’

      ‘They don’t think anything. All they can do is speculate until you lot make an announcement. Before the Big Brother story broke they were discussing what effect having an absent father and famous mother would have on a teenager.’

      Sally and Jessie walked back through the increasingly familiar network of subterranean passageways and doors. Outside the new boiler room another group of people