Dead End by Leigh Russell

duty roster he was working on.
    A chill breeze made Geraldine shiver as she wandered outside, unlocked her car and drove away from the centre of town in the direction of the recreation ground. She parked in a quiet side road and fumbled with her phone where she had saved the number of the adoption agency.
    ‘Hello? I'd like – I'm calling to enquire about –’ It hadn't occurred to her beforehand that a simple request for information might be so difficult to make. She took a deep breath. ‘I was adopted and I want to find out about – it.’ The words were out. With an overwhelming sense of relief Geraldine allowed the voice at the other end of the line to take control. The woman asking questions was kind but dispassionate. This was clearly a routine enquiry. Geraldine was suddenly aware of how cold she felt and was surprised to see her free hand trembling against the steering wheel.
    She forced herself to speak slowly and calmly. ‘Are you able to access my file now, or shall I call back?’
    ‘I'm afraid we can't disclose any details over the phone.’
    ‘What can I do then? I must know, whatever you have. I'm entitled to know what's on my file.’
    ‘Of course you're entitled to that information, but you need to make an appointment to discuss your case with a social worker. I can book an appointment now.’
    ‘I can't possibly come to the agency. I don't have time.’ Geraldine knew she was being ridiculous. The woman was only doing her job. But having psyched herself up to make the call, Geraldine was swept up in a raging tide of impatience. She did her best to persuade the woman to fetch her file then and there, explaining that she was a detective inspector involved in a murder enquiry who couldn't be spared from the investigation. ‘I just want to know why I was adopted,’ she insisted, but the woman remained adamant. Adoption files were only discussed face to face.
    ‘I'm sorry, Geraldine, but it's for your own protection. These situations can be very emotional so it's best to have appropriate support on-hand, just in case you feel you want to talk to someone. Many adoptees – most – are happy to discover their history, but sometimes the situation can be difficult or even upsetting.’
    Rigid with disappointment, Geraldine made an appointment to discover her birth history, face to face with a stranger.
    Ian Peterson glanced up as Geraldine returned to the Incident Room and she felt a sudden longing to escape to a new location where no one knew her, a busy city where she could be consumed by work and no one would know or care anything about her. She thought of the private office in Abigail Kirby's home and sighed.
    ‘We off to see what we can find out then, gov?’
    Geraldine nodded, thinking that she hadn't found out anything about why she had been adopted. Only a social worker in an adoption agency was privy to that information. A social worker and Geraldine's birth mother. If her birth mother was still alive.
    ‘Come on, then, Ian. Let's see if David Whittaker can tell us anything we don't already know.’ Neither of them expected the witness who had discovered Abigail Kirby's body to have any new information for them, but he had been too shocked to give a detailed statement at the scene and they had to go through the motions and question him. There was always a possibility he might remember something that would help them in their enquiries.
    David Whittaker worked in a garage near the station. He thanked them for interviewing him at work. ‘I don't want my wife to find out what happened. This way, no one needs to know. I know it's daft but the wife gets so nervous about, well, everything really. I suppose it's bound to come out. I've sworn Zac to secrecy,’ he shrugged, ‘but you know what kids are. She's going to find out sooner or later isn't she? Once she knows what happened, she'll give me hell. She thinks I let the kid take unnecessary risks, but it doesn't do any good, mollycoddling him