“That’s the commonality, then.”
“What is?”
“Teo Bontempi was on a team working to end the abuse of women, FGM in particular. I’ve been told she went to schools and to community centres in the Nigerian and Somali communities, speaking to girls and to their parents. She could have come to Orchid House at some point.”
“If she did, it would have been when I wasn’t there. I would have remembered a policewoman, Tommy. And no one has mentioned a policewoman visiting. I daresay she came by my card another way.”
“Any ideas about that?”
Deborah considered this. “Not really.” She drank some of the Pellegrino and removed the sun hat she’d been wearing. She had stuffed her heavy, copper-coloured hair inside, and, now released, it fell thickly round her shoulders and down her back. She poured some of the water onto her head. She said, as water dripped down her cheeks, “Sorry. It’s this beastly weather.”
He smiled, saying, “That’s one way to handle it,” and he laughed and demurred when she extended a bottle of Pellegrino towards him to do the same.
“It’s something that needs sorting,” Lynley said.
“The heat? I couldn’t agree more. But you’re probably talking about my card amongst Teo Bontempi’s belongings, aren’t you? Let me think for a moment. When I gave out my cards initially at Orchid House, I gave one to Narissa Cameron. That would be a second card, as I’d given her one at the meeting at the Department for Education.”
“She is . . . ?”
“She’s a filmmaker doing a documentary, also for the Department for Education. Now that I think of it, I gave another card to Zawadi, and that would be her second card as well.”
“She was at the same meeting?”
“She was.”
“Her surname?”
“She doesn’t use one, as far as I know. And . . . Oh yes. I also gave a card to Adaku. She’s one of the volunteers. She was helping with the documentary filming, and the girls were finding it rather difficult to tell their stories in a natural way for the camera, for Narissa’s film. So to make it easier for them, Adaku told her story first.” Deborah was thoughtful. She lowered her eyes for a moment to say, “It was horrific, Tommy. She was completely mutilated, years ago, in Africa.”
“May I ask why you gave her your card?”
“I’ve decided to do a larger photo book—like my London book?—but this one on the subject of FGM. I want to include her portrait. When I asked her, she was very reluctant, so I showed her some photos I’d snapped of her while she was speaking, just to illustrate what I had in mind. I gave her my card so that if she changes her mind, she can ring me. I may have frightened her off, though.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She’s not been there to volunteer for a few days. I’ve learned that Adaku has quite a special touch with the girls.”
It seemed something of a coincidence: African, mutilated, missing for a few days. He said, “Teo Bontempi was African, Deb. She was also brutally circumcised.”
Deborah looked down at her sandal-shod feet. Then she said slowly, “Tommy, you said she worked on a team, yes?” And when he nodded, “Could the team have placed undercover officers in the community? Women, I mean?”
“Teo Bontempi was the only female on the team, and her superior didn’t mention anyone working undercover.”
“Could Adaku be a police informant? She was born in Nigeria. If she’s one of Teo Bontempi’s sources and she’s learned Teo’s dead, that could explain why she’s not turned up at Orchid House.”
“It could do, yes. Have you any idea how to contact her?”
She shook her head. “Zawadi will have a number to reach her, I expect. I do know she has family in the area because she spoke of them and of being adopted.”
Lynley homed in on the word. “Adopted?”
“She mentioned that when she was telling her story for the film. Her parents are white, and I think she might have had some . . . I don’t know . . . some issues with that.”
“Teo Bontempi was adopted, Deb. Her parents are white.”
She looked into his face but seemed to be looking elsewhere, because in a moment she put her hand on his arm and said, “Tommy, come with me.” She rose and made for the house at a rapid pace, striding across the lawn, through the kitchen, then up the stairs. At the front door, she snatched up a black metal case and took it with her into Simon’s study, saying to her husband, “Are we disturbing . . . ?”