by Jay Nadal
Scott always regarded himself as a strong person, able to face extreme pressures whilst maintaining a level head. However, he had to admit that he hadn’t handled things well over recent weeks. Sian’s death had affected him. It was the first time he’d ever experienced losing a colleague in that way, and more importantly someone under his command.
I’ve got to pull my socks up and get a grip of the situation. My team needs me to be their backbone, he surmised as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He was better than this, he knew that. He had amazing support and acknowledged that Cara was his backbone.
As he approached Hove, he saw Abby a few yards ahead stretching and limbering up against railings.
“You took your time you old man,” she said, grinning at him.
“Maybe so, but if you keep stretching like that, you’ll end up in A & E.”
“Scott Baker, what you fail to realise is that you’re a few years older than me, and women are just naturally more flexible than men. So I reckon you have the problem, not me.”
Scott pushed Abby playfully as they made their way down the steps on to the beach. Their feet sank into the pebbles which made walking anything but graceful.
Abby unfolded the TRX and fixed it to an anchor point on green weathered railings that separated the beach from the promenade. Scott and Abby were both keen TRX enthusiasts and enjoyed exercising outdoors with the smell of the sea air, the sound of the seagulls and busy Brighton life passing them by.
They took turns to go through some basic stretching exercises alternating between each exercise. Following his run, sweat already dripped from each of Scott’s pores. The TRX fast drained his remaining energy. Abby, on the other hand, didn’t appear out of breath as she aggressively puffed away through each exercise, enjoying the challenge and demands that she placed on her body. Any exercise was like a drug to Abby. It cleared her mind, it melted away her stresses and helped her to forget about the world around her for those few brief moments.
Passing her the handles, Scott asked, “Did you do much last night?”
Abby began doing back rows, as she wedged her feet against the sea wall as an anchor point. With her eyes firmly fixed on the railings above her, she appeared reluctant to say much. In reality, she held back for one simple reason.
“I stayed at Jonathon’s last night, and don’t you say a fucking word.”
“You dirty stop-out…I didn’t think you had it in you,” teased Scott.
“Give it a rest. Anyone would think I’m Mother Theresa by the way you talk about me.”
“Well, it was only a few weeks ago that you were splashing on the Brut saying you were just good friends, and now you’re playing tonsil tennis under the duvet.”
“Seriously, Scott, you have a one-track mind. I seriously don’t know what Cara sees in you. Besides, it wasn’t Brut. It was Sexy Amber from Michael Kors.”
“Check you out, Sexy Amber…You sure it wasn’t Sexy Abby?” He laughed.
Abby shook her head in resignation. “You wait till I speak to Cara. I’m going get the gossip on you. Then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
Scott held his hands up in resignation. “I’m just joshing you. You’re so easy to wind up.”
Abby held up her hand, the palm facing forward. “No, it’s fine. If you want to play dirty, then game on. This is war,” she said, snarling her teeth at him in jest.
“In all seriousness, all joking apart, I’m glad you’re happy. As long as he makes you happy and satisfies your barren spell, then that’s great news.”
“Oi, less of the barren. I wasn’t gagging or anything. Yes, he does make me happy, and we are having a good laugh. And it’s easy. Rottingdean isn’t far away. He hasn’t got any kids to worry about. My kids are getting old enough to stay at their gran’s without any fuss. He’s an attractive fella, so yes, naturally, I fancy him.”
Scott acknowledged the sincerity in Abby’s voice and was pleased for her.
Scott grabbed the handles and leant forward and away from the anchor point to do some triceps extensions. His eyes focused on the horizon where the clear blue sky met the shimmering sea. His eyes tracked the multitude of yachts and sailing boats that departed Brighton Marina. The calm, clear conditions made it perfect sailing weather.
Abby took a long slug from her water bottle. “Is Meadows still giving you a hard time?”
“Pretty much,” Scott said through heavy grunts and a grimace. “But nothing I can’t handle.”
Abby raised an eyebrow in suspicion as Scott briefly glanced in her direction.
“Now tell the truth,” she demanded.
Scott paused. “I get the feeling he’s hoping I crack, or slip up. He’s already insinuated I’m not chief inspector material, and that I need more time in the trenches.”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“Possibly, but I just think he’s flexing his muscles.”
“I don’t think you two will ever get on.”
“You’re probably right. He’s got his own agenda. DCI Harvey didn’t fit into that agenda, and perhaps I don’t either. He’s very much a yes-man, and even though I don’t like to talk out of term regarding a senior officer, I think it’s all about self-preservation and self-promotion with Meadows. If that’s what he’s really about, then good luck to him. It makes no difference to me. But it does piss me off when it affects my job.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Do what I normally do. I’ll keep my head down, do my job to the best of my ability and support my team.”
“Well you know you’ve got the support of the team. As a friend, you’ve got my unconditional support. Even if you are always taking the piss out of me,” Abby said as she splashed some water from her bottle in Scott’s direction.
Beneath all the banter, Scott valued Abby’s support and wisdom. Scott didn’t have many friends. He’d always preferred to just have a few close friends that he trusted. Abby fell into that category. Yes, they worked together, but other than Cara, he felt the only other person he could be completely open and honest with was Abby. And he sensed that in her own inimitable way, Abby felt the same about their friendship.
7
Detective Constable Helen Swift sat patiently in the station reception area. They’d told her to be there at 10 a.m. sharp. She glanced at her phone once again, 10.23 a.m. and as yet no one had been by to collect her.
The front desk officer gave her an uncomfortable smile and a shrug. There were long periods of awkward silence between them that seemed to turn minutes into hours.
Helen impatiently tapped the toes of her court shoes on the vinyl floor, the sharp sound echoing off the bare walls. She felt tense inside as her stomach flipped over and tightened. She hated first day nerves. She’d always done the same silly habits, habits she wanted to stop, but had never quite achieved it. With her bottom lip well and truly chewed, and her hair obsessively neatened, she’d finally check that her blouse buttons were done up to a level resembling decency. She must have stroked her copper-coloured hair a dozen times, and twisted her ponytail around her finger in nervous anticipation.
Only one lighter moment broke up her boredom. An elderly man dressed in brown cords and polyester zipped grey jacket turned up to complain about a noisy group of youths down his road. He was annoyed at how they’d tinker with their cars most evenings and then proceeded to roar down the road past his house. The gentleman protested that the youths should have their cars confiscated. Helen thought the desk officer clearly looked bored shitless as he leant forward on the desk and cradled his chin in the palm of his hand. The officer nodded sympathetically, as the elderly man tapped his finger on the desk to emphasise the degree of frustration he felt. The stronger he protested, the harder he tapped his finger.
Helen groaned inwardly as she adjusted her light blue suit jacket once more. Part of her still missed the buzz of her old job, along with the friendships and challenge. But she knew that to follow her own persona
l desire to progress, she needed a change. Coming to Brighton was a step up in her career progression, and an opportunity to work directly on local cases. A flash of doubt crept through her thoughts as to whether this move would live up to her expectations.
The buzz on the double doors jogged her back into the present. Detective Superintendent Meadows pushed through holding the door open with one heel. “DC Swift, good to see. Please come through,” he said with a flick of his head in the direction of the corridor behind him. There was no mention of an apology for keeping Helen waiting as he adjusted his red tie and offered the slightest of welcoming smiles through tightly pursed lips.
“I trust you’re all settled in?” he asked as he led her through the corridors up to the CID office.
Without the specifics of what he was alluding to, Helen assumed that Meadows was referring to her arrival in Brighton. “Yes, Sir. I’ve rented an apartment in Hove. It was rather short notice. The place I initially had fell through. It was just round the back of the cricket ground. But unfortunately, it fell through at the last minute. I had a mad dash trying to organise something else. It was a bit last minute.com, Sir, but it will do until I get my bearings.” Helen had kept the one-sided dialogue running whilst she marched behind Meadows up the stairs.
“Then I’m sure you’ll settle in just fine. CID are a good bunch here. Detective Inspector Baker is a strong officer and good at getting the best out of his team,” Meadows said, pausing outside swing doors. “Now, as I’m sure you’re aware, the team has had a rough ride with the loss of an officer.”
Helen nodded to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. “How have they coped with her loss?”
Meadows crossed his arms and pursed his lips once again, keen to find the right words. “It’s been a challenge, but they’ve been very robust, focused and professional. Some have found it harder than others, understandably. But I’d say they’ve handled it very well.”
Meadows pushed through the doors and strode into the office, with Helen in tow. He made his way over to where Scott and the team had gathered around the incident board. Scott paused for a moment and looked up, as the team swivelled in their chairs to see Meadows approaching.
Scott felt a little uncomfortable. Meadows had insisted on welcoming the newest member of Scott’s team.
“Scott, you no doubt remember Detective Constable Helen Swift. We have the pleasure of welcoming her to our unit,” Meadows announced. He stood to one side and waved Helen through as you would when welcoming royalty.
Helen’s face blushed, as warmth spread from her cheeks. Starting a new job was never a comfortable experience for anyone. Having four pairs of eyes glaring at her led to one of those awkward stand-off moments where she wasn’t quite sure who should greet first.
Scott stepped forward and extended his hand to welcome her. “DC Swift, good to see you again, and welcome aboard,” Scott said with a warm welcoming smile and a comfortable handshake.
Meadows made his excuses and wished Helen well before leaving Scott to take over. Scott could never tell just how sincere Meadows was when he offered praise or support. It felt as if Meadows was going through the motions of saying or doing the right thing because of his rank. Meadows had been one of the senior officers who preferred the comfort of his office to the interaction of those he commanded.
The only times Scott ever saw Meadows become animated and excited was in the presence of senior officers. Scott believed that Meadows was very much a political player. Someone happy to pen push and to be seen in the right circles, rather than build relationships, trust and respect from those he commanded.
“Let me introduce you to rest the members of the team. This is Detective Sergeant Abby Trent, Detective Constable Raj Singh and Detective Constable Mike Wilson.”
The team all rose and exchanged pleasantries and handshakes. Scott couldn’t help but notice Mike’s slightly longer than necessary lingering handshake with Helen, and a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Scott groaned to himself. Helen had only just started, and Mike being the resident flirtatious predator that he was, had already taken an instant shine to Helen.
“Grab yourself a seat, Helen, and DS Trent can show you to your desk later. There’s no time like the present to get up to speed with the current case. We’re now investigating the disappearance of a student from Sussex University by the name of Hailey Bratton,” Scott announced, tapping the picture of Hailey on the incident board. “Last seen forty-eight hours ago. Normally this wouldn’t be a case that we’d investigate but before her disappearance, there had been several reported cases of female students being sexually assaulted. The cases were investigated by uniform, but without any suspects, no clear descriptions or any witnesses, the cases remained open. On-site security teams and local uniformed officers had stepped up visible patrols to assure the student population on campus.
“Coincidence or not, her boyfriend Freddie Coltrane was brought in last night for being drunk and disorderly in town. He was denied access from several bars before becoming verbally and violently aggressive towards door staff. He was arrested and slept it off in the cells last night.”
“What’s the mood like on campus, Guv?” Helen asked. She was keen to break in and banish the nervous anxiety that swirled around her stomach, and made her head spin with nausea.
“Clearly the student population are anxious and worried. That’s understandable. The staff, the on-site security team and the local police have done all they can to try to reassure the student population. That’s why it’s imperative that we get on top of this case as soon as possible. It does help that we’re coming towards the end of term. So the student population has certainly dwindled in numbers.”
“So what more do we know about Hailey?” Abby asked.
Raj struck his pen in the air. “I’ve spoken to Hailey’s parents. Naturally, they’re very upset and concerned. They’ve cooperated with local police, and having spoken to her parents and the officers, the conclusion is that Hailey’s a quiet, fun and loving girl. She’s never in trouble, she studied hard throughout her schooling, and her parents were at a loss to explain her disappearance. She even went to church occasionally when she went back to her parents’ home.”
“Mike?”
“Guv, I had a chat with her flatmate, Sophie Smith. She’s just reiterated similar thoughts to what Raj extracted. Hailey’s studying history and politics and really enjoying the courses. She’s in the debating society and plays on the university netball team, so a pretty well-rounded student from all accounts. Sophie can’t explain why Hailey’s disappeared, she didn’t think Hailey was in any trouble, nor did anything seem to be bothering her. She’d always tell Sophie if she was staying out with Freddie, or roughly what time she’d be back. So she clearly seems to be quite sensible.”
“Okay, cheers, Mike.” Scott nodded slowly as he processed the information. “Did you get hair fibres and her toothbrush?”
“Yes, Guv. We’ve got those in the evidence room. I’ve also checked in with the CCTV control room on campus. We’ve drawn a blank there. There’s too much of the campus to cover, and not enough cameras. It’s a big sprawling campus, with lots of green space, trees and paths, which admittedly are well lit, but it’s a basic set-up. It would be sheer luck to catch her or anything suspicious.”
“Anything on her email or social media profiles?”
“We’ve got her laptop. It is password protected. I’ve already sent it to the tech boys to see if they can access the hard drive for us. We’ve searched her room. The usual student shit pit, I’m afraid. More clothes on the floor than hanging up. There were empty drink bottles lining the windowsill and posters on the walls. Nothing looked untoward, and Sophie couldn’t see anything missing to suggest she’d run away.”
Scott nodded his approval. “She’s well-liked, has a boyfriend, is studying well at college, has no worries or emotional problems that we are aware of, and her disappearance is completely out of character. That doesn’t give us mu
ch to go on does it?” Scott mumbled, mostly to himself.
“And no other students had any suggestions, concerns or suspicions? She didn’t have any run-ins with anyone?”
Silence fell amongst the team, a collective expression of blank faces staring at the incident board. A picture of Hailey Bratton stared back at them; her striking features crystal clear. A picture that had been passed on to them by her parents. Her dark brown almond-shaped eyes radiated a warmth and softness that contrasted with her fiery red, long curly hair and pale skin. Her bold, plump red lips framed a bright smile that suggested happiness as she stood between her parents. Her tight grey long-sleeved T-shirt accentuated her slim figure.
“Any news from the phone company?” Scott asked.
“Not yet, Guv. I’ve asked for a triangulation to pinpoint where her phone was last used. I should get the results within the next few hours.”
“Don’t wait for them, Raj. Get on the blower, and push it along. Make sure they understand the urgency of the request.”
Raj nodded hesitantly as he furiously scribbled on his notepad.
Scott glanced over Helen. “Helen, considering this case is completely new to you, with a fresh set of eyes is there anything we’re overlooking?”
Helen reared back in surprise at Scott’s question. Her eyes furiously scanned all the information and bullet points that were already on the incident board. Friends, social media profiles, last known location, emotional/mental health issues, character. All these bullets jumped out at her. She pursed her lips and shook her head once. “The only thing I can think of is trying to pin down her last known movements. Who she was with? If anyone followed her? That type of stuff.”
“That’s sketchy too, Guv. She told Sophie that she was heading into town in the afternoon to get a few bits. Then she was heading up to see Freddie up at the East Slope bar in the evening. Her plan was to stay the night. As we know, she never got there. CCTV footage on the door shows Freddie coming in and staying for a bit before leaving, but no sign of Hailey arriving at all.”