As he pushed through the heavy rubber doors into Foxy’s outer lab, his mobile signal died and a call from Maggie was sent straight to voicemail. Jack handed a DNA testing kit he’d bought online to Foxy. One sample was already labeled and ready to go; the second would be taken from the bag of bones.

“Whose is this?” asked Foxy, pointing at the first sample.

“Mine,” said Jack as he left.

Foxy stood there, shaking his head.

“And I thought I’d seen everything . . .”

“Hi, darling.” Maggie’s beautiful voice brought an almost physical relief to Jack. All he wanted to do right now was go home and slide into bed next to her. “I just got a call from your dad’s estate agent. The last offer was above the reserve, so it’s been accepted. They want a quick sale and have asked for the bungalow to be emptied. I know you’re in the middle of a lot right now. I’ll come with you, Jack, but I can’t do it for you. Love you.”

Jack leaned against the battleship-gray wall and texted Maggie back.

We’ll go tonight. He paused mid-text. Then, They don’t need me here.

Chapter 23

Ridley had been sympathetic to Jack’s impending family loss and had granted him the time off to go and sort out Charlie’s affairs without comment. Jack got the impression Ridley was happy to see the back of him. The feeling was mutual.

Maggie drove and Jack stared out the passenger window, his mobile on his lap. For the first half of their journey, she had attempted polite conversation but now she seemed content to mumble along to Queen songs and allow him time for his thoughts. His phone was on silent but each time it vibrated, he checked to see if it was Foxy calling with DNA results. If the bag of bones was a match to him, then his dad was dead. If it wasn’t a match, then his dad could still be alive. Tony Fisher had insinuated that Jimmy Nunn could well be living it up on a beach somewhere, spending someone else’s money. The thought once again popped into Jack’s head that it was even possible—if he was right, and Dolly Rawlins was behind it—that she’d enlisted Jimmy Nunn in the train robbery.

Jack’s gut instinct was in overdrive. What if Craigh had been right when he raided The Grange looking for guns? After all, Gloria Radford’s husband, Eddie, had been an arms dealer who had weapons stashed all over London. What if Ester had seduced . . . ? No, not Ester; no one could be that desperate. Julia. What if Julia had seduced Norma into helping them? Or simply into trusting them? What if Mike and Angela had been lovers since the day he’d rescued her from Ester’s brothel? Right from the very beginning, coppers like Bill Thorn had totally underestimated the women, labeling them as too physically and emotionally weak. Different snippets of evidence swam around inside Jack’s skull, settling into their most likely home. If one of the robbers had been on a horse, why not all of them? That would compensate for any lack of physical strength. As for emotional strength, Jack had no doubt whatsoever that none of the women were lacking in that department.