December 16, 10:00 am

The two officers walked into the incident room expecting to set up all the usual items: a suspect board, an action log, a large television monitor, and a record of evidence.

"Will miracles never cease?" Tommy asked as they entered the large office assigned to them for the case. The whiteboard fixed on the centre wall had the key facts written in a neat hand. To the left was a portable board with photos from the crime scene, a map, and a timeline. On the right was a flip-chart of witnesses with a few words summarising what they saw.

"Ah, Lord… Sir," Michael said, looking up from his laptop computer. "I… thought I should practice setting everything up, but I can change anything. Anything you need or do differently. I…"

Before Tommy could answer, Barbara patted the lad on his shoulder. "It's a great start. Thank you."

The young officer beamed at her. Tommy thought he looked a bit like a lovesick Labrador. The lad seemingly had a crush on Barbara, and Tommy wasn't sure whether he was more annoyed or amused. He forced his jealousy into the background. It was ridiculous even to think… She was old enough to be his mother. "Sergeant Havers is right. Good job. Do you want to run us through what you have?"

Michael stood and walked to the photos. "These are the best photos of the scene showing the impact damage to the vehicle and how it is matched to the victim's wounds. I should have the order of strike once the autopsy is completed. Over here, I have the witness statements. Most agree on the key facts." He stopped and pointed to the centre board. "So I put them here, and only points of difference on this board.

"I have the CCTV footage from the two closest cameras." Michael pressed a button, and the monitor crackled to life. There was nothing to dispute the statement from the cabbie or the witnesses. The victim ran out of the lane and straight into the cab's path.

Tommy had to admit the kid was organised and thinking. "Excellent work. There's nothing there that contradicts what we know. But we have a dossier from the victim's solicitor and her laptop. Go through them and add anything of interest to your boards. We need any information about the victim from them, especially any anomalies in her life. Then, give the laptop to the techies and see what else they can find. Are you logging everything?"

Michael nodded as if that was an unnecessary question. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Have you met Constable Nkata yet?"

"No, Sir. I missed him. He's at the lab for the post-mortem. Should be back within the hour."

"Good. When he's back, I want him to show you how to navigate the systems. I want everything we know about Barbara Evers. Barbara, let's get coffee and then work out our next steps."


"The kid's good," Barbara said as they sipped the beige sludge masquerading as coffee from the new vending machine. "Geez, this is awful. Fancy a real coffee?"

"I do, but not now."

Barbara frowned. "Okay. What?"

"I keep thinking about Santa Claus. The choice of name sounds significant."

"It is Christmas."

Tommy raked his hand slowly through his hair. "We're missing something. Something obvious."

"Like what?"

"If I knew, we wouldn't be missing it, would we?"

Barbara shrugged, then tried another sip of coffee. Her lips curled, and her eyes screwed up tightly as she made a gagging noise. "Well, hurry up and work it out. I need caffeine, but I wouldn't give this stuff to my worst enemy."

"You gave one to me."

"Don't take it personally. I didn't know it was that bad then, did I?"

"So," Tommy said as he started pacing his office while Barbara slumped into his visitor's chair. "Santa is like a god, he's supposed to be omnipotent. All seeing. He put quotes around Evers, but not Miss."

"So, she was unmarried but just not an Evers?" Barbara asked, wondering if she was following his train of thought.

"Yes, essentially, that's my logic. He's questioning her identity."

"And said she'd been naughty. So, identity theft?"

"I think so, but Walter and Bob have known her for forty-odd years. That's a long time to live a lie without giving anything away."

Barbara nodded as she took another sip of the coffee. She shuddered and put the cup on the desk. She needed a boost after their late night, but it wasn't worth dying of mud poisoning. "But Santa knows. So, what's happened to her recently to reveal her secret."

Tommy nodded. "Let's see what Michael has found."

They walked back into the main office. Michael bent over the laptop they had found at the house, with Bob's dossier in front of him and his laptop beside it. He was looking at both, shaking his head and making notes.

"Find anything?"

"Well… the solicitor's dossier is what I would expect. He's outlined key dates of when the victim moved in, and there's a copy of the title deed in the name of Barbara Elizabeth Evers and a will in the same name. The will leaves money to a charity for the homeless based out of Soho, so that might be a connection, but she made it ten years ago, so it's not a recent change. There's virtually nothing personal on the laptop. Like nothing personal. There are a few pictures of the house before it was renovated, a few with Bob and Walter at what looks like a Christmas function, no, a couple of years of those actually. But there's nothing from earlier. No childhood photos scanned in. Nothing. There are no documents besides her bank account, rates notices, receipts for the usual utilities, etc. Everything looks perfectly normal and orderly."

"Too orderly?" Barbara asked.

Michael shrugged. "Maybe, or she's just well-organised."

Tommy stroked his chin. "There were no photos in the house either. There was nothing personal, almost like she didn't live there."

Barbara shook her head. "There were clothes and bedlinen, and Bob and Walter were too shocked not to have said something if she wasn't living there."

"Yes, that's true," Tommy conceded. "Get the laptop to the techcos and see if they can find anything hidden."

Michael finished his note and then took the laptop away. He reached the door and turned back. "Um, where are the techcos?"

"Fourth floor," Tommy said almost dismissively. He turned to Barbara. "We should check out that charity, just in case."

"Hmmm. Might give us something, I guess."

They were studying the whiteboard when Winston Nkata walked in. "Nothing from the post-mortem. Stuart is still waiting on toxicology results, but it was the car that did her in. The cabbie has been released from hospital. He's downstairs waiting for an interview. Are we looking to charge him?"

"No, the CCTV supports all the statements. Take his formal statement, thank him for his assistance and give him the name of that psychology service. I think he'll need counselling."

"Righto."

When Winston left, they looked at each other. Barbara knew what he was thinking. "I know we should go to the charity, but Vincent's for a decent cuppa first?"

"You read my mind, Havers."

"I know."


December 16, 11:30 am

"Oh," Barbara said as she held the steaming cup of coffee between her hands and lifted it to inhale the aroma, "I've been waiting for this."

Tommy laughed softly. Barbara and her coffee. It never ceased to amaze him how enraptured she always looked around it. Why can't she look at me the way she looks at coffee? "I wish…" He stopped himself before he said anything more. Where had that thought come from?

"What do you wish?"

He shook his head, trying to shake free the desire to lean over and kiss her. He took a breath and exhaled slowly. "That we didn't have this case and could slide into Christmas for once."

"Slide into Christmas? I don't think anyone slides into Christmas. It's hectic, bumpy, cold, wet, and generally an overwhelming and overrated time of year."

Tommy smiled. "It's good when you get there."

"Seriously? You have a six-hour drive to have one meal with a family you have a fractious relationship with, and then you'll drive back the next day. It's hardly relaxing."

Tommy sat back. "Well, Havers, don't hold back. Any other criticisms of my family you'd like to add?"

Barbara put her coffee on the table between them. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to sound so harsh. It's just that every year since Helen died, you go down there with some hope and you come back miserable. It doesn't seem like you enjoy the experience."

Tommy exhaled loudly through his nose. "I don't, but they're my family. Judith is fine. Peter's getting his act together, and our relationship is improving. And Mother is… we're in a better place than we have been since… so, it's not as bad as you think."

"Good. So, it's just the long drive that makes you grumpy. Or coming back to me."

"No." He reached out and put his hand on her arm, scrunching up her sleeve. "I want to come back to you. Actually, to be truthful, I hate being away from you at Christmas. You're family, too."

Barbara looked at him for a split second as if he was great coffee. Then she looked down. "I… I don't know what to say to that."

He didn't know what he had expected, but disappointment gnawed at his gut. "You don't have to say anything. I don't expect you to feel the same way…"

Her hand clamped over his. "I do feel like that. You're my only family. What do they say, friends are the family you choose, not the ones that are thrust on you?"

He freed his hand but deftly encased her retreating hand in both palms. "Then come with me this year, Barbara. We can stay a few days and… relax."

"I… we have to solve this case first."

Their hands parted, and both gripped their coffee cups. Tommy felt the moment had passed, but a strange, almost tingling sensation washed over him. Fleetingly, Barbara had revealed affection for him, and he knew from that look that it was far more than platonic. He downed his still-hot coffee in three gulps. "Then we'd better get on with it."


Tommy found a parking spot in a loading bay a block from the charity and attached the POLICE sign to his windscreen. This area of the city had ostensibly become gentrified, but it still housed more than its fair share of shady characters.

They walked in silence around the corner, past a shop decorated with festive lights and displaying tempting chocolate Santas in the window. "Bloody Santa. He's everywhere," Barbara mumbled to herself.

"Let's hope he's at the charity and confesses and we get a quick arrest."

Barbara turned at looked at him. "I never had you pegged as a fantasist."

"Oh?" he said, arching an eyebrow. "I have lots of fantasies."

Barbara swallowed hard, looked straight ahead and quickened her pace.


December 16, 1:05 pm

Back in the office, Tommy seemed decidedly cheerful, which Barbara found unsettling. They had drawn a blank at the charity. There was no-one there from ten years ago, and the three people running it had no idea about the bequeath, nor when they were shown her photo did they have any recollection of any contact from Barbara Evers.

"If the bloke running the charity ten years ago is dead too, do you think there's a connection," Barbara asked.

"I doubt it. They said it was cancer, so not a mysterious death. And it was eight years ago, so that's a long time to wait for any revenge or... whatever."

"Yeah, another blank. So why are you so damned chirpy?"

Tommy looked at her as if she were a bit dim-witted. "You're coming home for Christmas."

She hadn't agreed to go to Howenstowe for Christmas, yet somehow he had taken her response as affirmation and was hellbent on solving the case so it would happen. Not that she didn't want to go. Well, she didn't actually want to go, but she did want to spend the day with her boss, and if that meant dressing up and eating a feast in Cornwall, well, she would make that sacrifice. It was better than the supermarket's Turkey and Ham Christmas Dinner for £5.99 that she had bought ready to microwave for lunch. A polite rap on the door interrupted her dream of snow outside Tommy's old pile and sipping eggnog by a warm fire.

"Come in," Tommy called out.

The door cracked open and Michael popped his head around the door. "Excuse me, m'lord, err m'sir… shit, Detective Chief Inspector, Sir."

"Michael, calm down. Why don't we try Boss or Gov?"

Barbara bristled. "I never got away with that."

Michael's face coloured deeply as he looked between them, his gaze locking on Barbara before falling to the ground. "I don't mean to cause trouble."

"You're not," Tommy reassured him. "What did you find?"

"You know Grandma likes doing family history?"

Tommy scowled. "No, but that's nice for her."

Michael pushed the door open a came into the office as if being challenged had given him more confidence. Barbara liked that he wasn't backing down from the Lord Asherton demeanour that Tommy was arrogantly displaying.

"I know her passwords, so I used several sites to look for Barbara Evers. She existed, and her parents and brother. The thing is..." Michael paused and took a breath. "The records show Barbara died but not the brother."

Tommy leant forward. "What happened to him? Did the grandmother raise him?"

Michael shrunk a little. "I don't know. The records don't say, but maybe we could track him through our database? I… can't do that though."

Tommy patted Michael on the back. "That was good thinking. Winston should be finished taking that statement by now. He can show you. Let's see if he is our Santa Claus."

"If we know who this woman wasn't," Barbara said, "how do we find out who she was?"

Tommy frowned at her. "By finding Santa Claus."

Barbara shook her head. "He might only know that she couldn't possibly be Barbara Evers, but will he necessarily know her real identity?"

Michael stroked his chin, reminding Barbara of a wise philosopher carefully choosing his words. "And would a man in his eighties be enough threat to chase her into oncoming traffic?"

Tommy sighed loudly. "No, and no. Find out about this brother, but I have a feeling he's not Santa."

Winston knocked on the door but came in without waiting for acknowledgement. "The cabbie saw something else that he didn't mention last night. He saw who was pursuing the victim."