Edmunds put down the receiver just as Baxter returned to the office following her meeting with Garland. He pinched his leg painfully beneath the desk to ensure that he was not smiling when she came over.
She hated it when he smiled.
She sat down at her computer, huffed loudly, and began sweeping crumbs off her keyboard and into her hand.
‘Did you actually eat any of whatever this was?’ she snapped.
He decided not to mention that he had been far too busy to take lunch and that she was holding the remnants of her own breakfast granola bar. Baxter glanced up to find him watching her patiently with a strained look on his face. He looked as though he might explode with excitement.
‘OK, let’s hear it,’ she sighed.
‘Collins and Hunter. It’s a family-run law firm based in Surrey with several specialist branches and partnerships scattered across the country. They have a long-standing tradition of presenting their employees with a ring …’ Edmunds held up the evidence bag containing the thick platinum ring. ‘This precise ring, in fact, after five years of service.’
‘You’re sure?’ asked Baxter.
‘Yes.’
‘That can’t leave us a big list to choose from.’
‘Twenty to thirty at the most, according to the lady I spoke to. She’s sending me the complete list, including contact details, this afternoon.’
‘It’s about time we caught a break,’ Baxter smiled.
Edmunds was amazed how different she looked when she was happy.
‘How did it go with Garland?’
‘He wants us to kill him. Drink?’
Baxter’s shocking response was only eclipsed by her offer to make him a drink. It had never happened before and Edmunds panicked.
‘Tea,’ he blurted out.
He hated tea.
Five minutes later Baxter returned to their shared desk and set a milky tea down in front of him. She had evidently forgotten (or never listened in the first place) that Edmunds was lactose intolerant. He pretended to sip it with exaggerated delight.
‘What time’s Simmons due back?’ she asked. ‘I need to talk to him about this Garland situation.’
‘Three, I think.’
‘Did they get anything out of Georgina Tate?’ Baxter asked him.
‘Not much,’ replied Edmunds, consulting his notebook. ‘Caucasian. But we knew that already. Scars covering his right forearm.’ It took him a moment to decipher his own scribble at the bottom of the page. ‘Oh yeah. You had a call while you were out: Eve Chambers. She said you had the number.’
‘Eve phoned?’ asked Baxter, puzzled that Chambers’ wife had returned her call.
‘She sounded quite distressed.’
Baxter immediately took out her mobile phone. Unable to speak in private with Edmunds sitting two feet away, she got up and moved on to Chambers’ vacant desk. The phone was answered on the second ring.
‘Emily,’ said a relieved voice.
‘Eve? Is everything all right?’
‘Oh yes, I’m sure it is, my love. Just me fretting like the silly old bugger I am. It’s just … I got your answerphone message yesterday.’
‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ said Baxter awkwardly.
‘Oh, not to worry. I presumed it was just a mix-up at your end, but then Ben never came home last night.’
Baxter was confused: ‘Never came home from where, Eve?’
‘Well, from work, dear.’
Baxter sat up a little straighter, suddenly alert, and carefully considered her reply so not to unduly worry the kind-hearted woman on the other end of the phone.
‘When did you get back from holiday?’ Baxter asked conversationally.
‘Yesterday morning, and Ben had already left for work by the time I got home. No food in the fridge, no note to say welcome home … That man!’
Eve let out a strained laugh. Baxter rubbed her head. She was getting more confused every time Eve opened her mouth and was trying not to get stroppy with her.
‘OK, why did you get back home later than Chamb— … than Ben?’
‘I’m sorry, my love. I don’t understand.’
‘When did Ben get back from holiday?’ Baxter almost yelled.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Eve’s angst-ridden voice replied in a hoarse whisper: ‘He didn’t come on holiday.’
During the stunned silence, in which Baxter struggled to form any useful thoughts, Eve started to weep down the phone. Chambers had already been missing for over two weeks without a single person realising. Baxter could feel her heart racing, her throat drying up.
‘Do you think something’s happened to him?’
‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ said Baxter unconvincingly. ‘Eve?’
Only distant crying answered her.
‘Eve, I need to know why Ben didn’t come on holiday with you … Eve?’
She was losing her.
‘Because he wouldn’t shut up about it to me,’ continued Baxter in the most light-hearted tone she could muster. ‘He was showing me pictures of your sister’s house on the beach and the restaurant on stilts. He was really looking forward to it, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes dear, he was. But he rang me at the house on the morning we were due to fly out. I was all packed up and waiting for him. He’d been in to see Dr Sami first thing to collect his medication and ended up getting himself admitted to hospital for “observations”. He sent me a message the following day to say he’d been given the all-clear and was heading back into work.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘He said he loved me and that he’d been having some problems with his leg of late. Hadn’t wanted to worry me. I said I’d stay, of course, but he was absolutely adamant that I go rather than waste the money. We had an argument about it.’
Eve began to cry again.
‘His leg, Eve?’
Baxter recalled Chambers walking with a slight limp at times, but she had never seen it severe enough to cause a problem or heard him complain about it.
‘Yes, you know dear, from that accident he had years ago. Comes home aching and sore most nights. Doesn’t like to talk about it. Plates and rods and … he almost lost it … Hello?’
Baxter had dropped the phone and was already frantically searching through Chambers’ desk drawers. She was shaking violently and beginning to hyperventilate as she pulled the entire top drawer out and showered the contents over the desk. People were watching her in embarrassed bewilderment.
Edmunds approached as she poured a second drawer of paperwork, stationery, painkillers and junk food over the floor. She had already dropped to her knees and started sorting through the mess when he knelt down opposite her.
‘What are we looking for?’ he asked softly. He spread the pile across the carpet, unsure what Baxter needed to find so desperately. ‘Let me help.’
‘DNA,’ whispered Baxter, her breathing rate steadily increasing.
She wiped her tearful eyes and yanked the bottom drawer out of the cabinet. She was about to upturn it over the floor when Edmunds reached in and picked out a cheap plastic comb.
‘Like this?’ he asked, holding it out to her.
She crawled over to take it from him, burst into hysterical tears and started sobbing uncontrollably against his chest. Edmunds put a hesitant arm around her and angrily waved off the assembling spectators.