Deborah Crombie - Necessary as Blood

– Geoff Dench, Kate Gavron, Michael Young, The New East End

“You can’t possibly consider letting Sandra Gilles’s mother have Charlotte.”

“Inspector James.” Janice Silverman’s voice, usually cheerfully friendly, had taken on a frosty note. “I appreciate your concerns. But you, of all people, should understand that you have to let us do our job.”

Gemma took a breath and loosened her grip on the phone. Yesterday evening, she’d talked to Betty, confirming what Hazel had told her about Charlotte. Then this morning she’d snatched the first free moment in her office to ring Janice Silverman. “Of course,” she said, trying to sound conciliatory. “But from what we’ve heard, Gail Gilles is not at all suitable-”

“Gail Gilles is Charlotte Malik’s grandmother, her nearest living relative. As such, we have to give her due consideration. That doesn’t mean”-she went on before Gemma could interrupt again-“that we will ignore the issues you’ve raised. Charlotte will stay with Mrs. Howard for the time being. I’ve explained to Ms. Gilles that her sons need to move out of the flat, and that we’ll be checking to ensure that they have done so. We’ll be initiating a home study, and I’ll present the results of our findings to the family court judge at the next hearing.”

“And when will that be?” asked Gemma.

There was a rustle of pages, as if Silverman were checking a paper diary. “Two weeks from yesterday, unless there’s a delay. Of course, you should attend if you have any information that would be helpful to the judge-although I’d suggest it be concrete.”

The phrases “home study” and “family court hearing” were all too rawly familiar to Gemma. She’d assumed that when Silverman said, “But you, of all people,” she’d been referring to Gemma’s work as a police officer. But now she wondered if Silverman had checked the records and found that Gemma and Kincaid had themselves fought Kit’s maternal grandmother for custody.

And won, with good reason, she reminded herself, but a cursory review by someone who hadn’t known the parties involved might make her seem a bit of a nutter.

And was she? she thought, feeling suddenly shaken.

Was the fact that she and Duncan knew firsthand how much damage a supposedly benign grandparent could inflict on a vulnerable child, making her overly sensitive?

Maybe, she had to admit, although no amount of rationalizing could dispel her gut feeling that this child was at risk. And if there was no one else to champion her, Gemma couldn’t afford to alienate the social worker.

To Mrs. Silverman, she said with as much composure as she could muster, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“You could benefit Charlotte most by helping her adjust to her foster home.” The nip in Silverman’s voice had thawed, but now Gemma just wanted to get off the phone and think.

“I’ll do whatever I can to help Charlotte, and Betty,” she said, adding, “Thanks for your time, Mrs. Silverman.”

Melody came in as Gemma ended the call. “Coffee run,” she said, handing Gemma a Starbucks cup with a plastic top. “How did it go?”

“She thinks I have a grudge against grannies.” Gemma sipped, wincing as the still-scalding latte burned the roof of her mouth.

“And do you?” Melody perched on the edge of a chair and sipped her own coffee as if she were Asbestos Woman.

“You think I’m overreacting because of Eugenia?” Gemma worked the lid off the coffee and watched the stream rise in a little cloud. Kit’s grandmother seemed to have become more mentally unstable, and these days it was only his grandfather Bob who came for the scheduled monthly visits. On the last occasion he’d confided that he didn’t know how much longer he could care for Eugenia on his own.

“No, there’s no doubt that she was seriously off her rocker,” answered Melody. “But what about your family? Do you get on with your grandparents?”

“I only vaguely remember my mum’s folks. They died within months of each other when Cyn and I were little. My mum always said they never really recovered from the war. And my dad…my dad never even talks about his family. He left home when he was thirteen and never went back.”

“Can’t have been a good situation, then. But Duncan’s parents are all right?”

“They’re lovely. And you’re beginning to sound like a caseworker,” Gemma added with a touch of asperity. And that was unusual, she realized, as Melody tended to avoid discussing personal matters. “What about you?” she asked, giving tit for tat.

“Oh, I was hatched from aliens,” Melody said with a grin, then quickly sobered. “So what are you going to do about little Charlotte?”

If Gemma knew about self-serving grandmothers because of their experience with Kit, she also knew that the social services’ home studies were undertaken thoroughly and responsibly. But she realized that in the last few minutes her worry had hardened into resolve. She was not willing to trust Charlotte Malik’s fate to the bureaucratic machine.

“I think,” she said, “that I want to have a nice, long talk with Gail Gilles.”

Kincaid stepped out of the buzz of the Bethnal Green incident room to take Gemma’s call. He listened, nodding at passersby in the corridor whose faces were already becoming familiar.

“No, I don’t want to talk to Gail Gilles yet,” he said when he could get a word in edgewise. “And I don’t want you to talk to her either. Not until I’ve interviewed Kevin and Terry Gilles. We’re having a hard time tracking them down, and the last thing I need is their mum putting the wind up them.”

He’d sent an officer to both brothers’ purported places of work that morning, one a betting shop on Bethnal Green Road, and the other a minicab business nearby. Neither business seemed to be too sure what the brothers did for them, or to know where they were at the moment. Kincaid had staked plainclothes constables on both places, as well as a third on Gail Gilles’s flat.

“If social services has told them to move out of the mother’s flat, they’ll have to go somewhere,” said Gemma. “I’d try the sister.”

“Good idea. I’ll hunt up the address.” He’d heard the disappointment in her voice when he’d said he didn’t want her talking to Gail. “I understand how you feel, Gem. Really. But the caseworker’s right. You have to let social services do their job. If there’s anything dodgy, I’m sure they’ll find it.”

“Are you?” said Gemma, her tone decidedly distant.

He was cursing himself for saying the wrong thing when Sergeant Singh came out of the incident room and beckoned. “Sir, they’ve rung from downstairs,” she mouthed. “Mr. Azad is here with his solicitor.”

“Look, I’ve got to go,” he said to Gemma. “I’ll ring you just as soon as I’ve run the Gilles brothers to ground.”

Ahmed Azad had been as good as his word. Louise Phillips had rung first thing that morning, making an appointment to come in with her client as soon as possible.

Sergeant Singh showed them into the office Kincaid had purloined as an interview room and equipped with a table, chairs, and a pot of coffee. He meant to at least begin their discussion under the semblance of a friendly chat. Cullen was still at the Yard, and Neal Weller was involved with his own division’s business. Kincaid was curious to see what Azad would say without Weller’s interference.

He wasn’t quite sure what to make of Weller, who had defended Azad on the one hand and felt obliged to play the bully on the other.

Sergeant Singh showed Azad and Louise Phillips into the office and, at Kincaid’s nod, unobtrusively took a chair in the corner. Kincaid poured the coffee himself.