by Wyer, Carol
‘Murray was double-checking the footage from the CCTV cameras at the Aldi car park on Monday afternoon. He rewound from the point when we spotted Anthony Lane approaching Savannah and her two friends and noticed a van leaving the car park slowly… really slowly. He ran the vehicle registration through DVLA and got a hit – it belongs to Kyle Yates. We both searched through cameras to see when it arrived and then we got really lucky. We discovered it parked up ten minutes before we saw Savannah and her friends outside the supermarket… and… there were two people in it. We magnified the image and this is what we saw.’
Natalie squinted at the picture on the screen. There was no mistaking who was in the passenger seat: Savannah Hopkins.
‘The lying bastard told me he’d never met Savannah. What else have you got on him?’
‘We’ve not unearthed anything else. He was single and lived with his mum before he moved in with Melissa Long. He’s never been in trouble with the police – other than the fight at the pub with Lance Hopkins – and his work record appears to be sound. He’s worked as a courier for the last ten years with the same company.’
‘There must be something. I was sure he was holding back the first time I interviewed him.’
The internal phone rang and Lucy answered it. ‘We’re on our way down.’ She turned to Natalie. ‘He’s here and so is his lawyer. You want to interview him?’
‘You bet I do.’
Kyle rubbed a hand under his nose for the fifth time since they’d begun the interview. Murray had been chosen to sit in with Natalie and maintained an icy glare, which was unnerving the suspect.
‘Does he have to be here?’ Kyle asked his lawyer, a young man in glasses and a suit, who looked equally intimidated by Murray.
Natalie was quick to reply. ‘Are you referring to DS Anderson?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Then yes, he does have to be here during this interview. Now, let’s go back over what you told me when I spoke to you outside your house yesterday afternoon. You’d been unhappy with work that Lance Hopkins had carried out on your property, and on encountering him at the Wheatsheaf pub, you accused him of cheating you. The exchange became heated and resulted in blows being thrown and you receiving a bloody nose.’
‘That’s right. It was over the guttering. He tried to charge us for cast-iron guttering but he put up PVC guttering, which was half the price.’
‘And you tackled him on the subject?’
‘He said the price he quoted was for PVC not cast-iron, which was bollocks and I refused to pay him the full amount.’
‘And you had an argument in the Wheatsheaf pub over this matter on Friday the seventh of September?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You didn’t meet up again after the fight?’
He rubbed under his nose again then tucked a hand under his armpit and clamped it there but said nothing. It was a sure sign she was onto something.
‘You didn’t go to his house and talk to him about it?’
Kyle made no reply.
Natalie shuffled her papers into a pile and sat back. ‘I believe you couldn’t let it drop. It annoyed you enough to tackle the man in front of customers in a pub and all you got for your trouble was a bleeding nose. It obviously annoys you, even now… all these months later. Here’s what I think: you went around to his house and asked for a full refund.’
Kyle still didn’t respond.
‘And I also think that’s where you met Savannah Hopkins. Did she answer the door? Did you chat?’ She waited but it was in vain. She pressed on. ‘You knew Savannah even though she didn’t live near you or attend the same school as Harriet. How could you be acquainted with a thirteen-year-old girl who lived on the far side of town if you hadn’t met her when you went around to her house to challenge Lance Hopkins? You knew Savannah even though you denied it when I spoke to you last. You lied to me. Why?’
He swallowed hard and looked away.
‘Kyle, there’s no refuting it. We have proof you not only knew Savannah but were with her Monday afternoon, shortly before she disappeared. It’s time to come clean.’
The man wouldn’t look up. Natalie held on but he remained resolutely uncooperative.
‘Why were you with Savannah Hopkins on Monday afternoon?’
Nothing. She cocked her head in the lawyer’s direction but he made no effort to encourage his client to speak. She’d have to coax the information out of him one way or the other.
‘Was this some sort of twisted revenge? Did you follow Savannah after she left the supermarket and attack her?’
Silence. Natalie suddenly thumped the table hard and Kyle looked up, eyes moist with tears. ‘Answer me, Kyle, or so help me, I’ll charge you.’
The lawyer whispered to his client, advising him to respond. Finally, Kyle drew a breath and replied. ‘I was with Savannah on Monday afternoon but only for a few minutes. I knew who she was but not because I went to Lance’s house. You’re wrong about that. I never saw Lance again after the fight in the pub. Savannah’s one of a few kids I see now and again.’
Murray spoke in a menacing low tone. ‘What do you mean by that?’
His words were sluggish, tugged reluctantly from his lips by an invisible force. ‘I deal a bit of weed… and Adam… from time to time. Savannah contacted me to buy some gear.’
‘You sell ecstasy and cannabis to minors?’ Murray spat the words out and glowered darkly at the man, who nodded.
‘Can you speak up for the recorder?’ Natalie said sharply.
‘Yes.’
Natalie continued. ‘How did Savannah know you sold drugs?’
‘I approached her and her friends a few months back. They were smoking behind the supermarket. If kids are smoking, they’re sometimes interested in buying from me. I told them if they needed anything, I could get it for them. The kids know I’m around the car park on a Monday afternoon after school. They find me. Savannah did. I sold her half a gram of weed.’
‘How often did she buy from you?’
‘Once or twice a month.’
‘Where did you go after you left the car park?’
‘Home. I went straight back home. I had to collect the babies from my mum. Melissa was working. She’d taken on an extra shift. We need the money. I only did it because we need the money.’
‘What about Harriet? Did you ever offer her any drugs?’
‘Christ, no. She was dead against substance abuse and Melissa knows nothing about this either. I didn’t have anything to do with either of their deaths. You can ask my mum what time I picked up the children from her. She’ll vouch for me. I didn’t kill the girls. Can’t you help me out here? I only sold a bit of gear. I never hurt anybody,’ he pleaded with his lawyer.
Natalie shifted her paperwork again. Kyle might not be responsible for Savannah’s death but he’d be charged for drug-dealing. His excuse meant nothing to her. They all needed to make ends meet and pay bills, but not everyone sold illegal substances to children, children the same age as hers. Suddenly, she didn’t want to listen to him any longer. He sickened her. It wasn’t the result she’d hoped for. It was yet another dead end.
Twenty-One
Thursday, 19 April – Morning
Mike caught Natalie alone in the office. She’d sent both Murray and Lucy home. There was little point in her returning to her house for such a brief time. She’d only add to the morning chaos.
‘Morning. You not got a home to go to?’ Mike leant against the door frame, a takeaway coffee cup in one hand. He lifted it up. ‘If I’d known you were here, I’d have brought you one in. The barista was having a bad morning, he renamed me Mark.’
‘Got to admit, Mike’s a really tricky name to spell.’
He smiled. ‘You been here all night again? You need to watch it. You’ll make yourself ill at this rate.’
‘I grabbed five hours’ sleep. I’m fine.’
‘Good. Okay, I’m headed upstairs to sift through our mammoth pile of potential evi
dence.’
‘What are your thoughts on this?’
‘I have to say, it isn’t the easiest investigation I’ve worked on. The killer’s wily. They’ve not given us anything to go on. So far the painted wood we found under Savannah’s nails is all we have. It might indicate where she was held captive.’
‘Who am I dealing with, Mike?’
‘Somebody who’s planned it. Whoever is responsible has been extremely careful to leave no trace.’
‘But if anyone can find anything, it’ll be you and your guys.’
He stared at the cup. ‘Glad you have faith in us. I fear it might take us longer than I’d like. An investigation such as this requires a huge number of man hours, and… I’d better go and put mine in.’
He left her to her thoughts. They were all racing around chasing evidence and suspects, and a second girl had died on their watch. Was the killer ensuring they were overworked – so overworked that they could continue their killing spree for a while longer? The thought chilled her to her bone.
* * *
He doused his hands with his favourite Boss aftershave and patted his cheeks lightly, getting an immediate hit of citrus followed by a slight scent of ginger. It wasn’t overpowering like many other aftershaves, yet it was fresh and made him feel clean. The snake wriggled across his chest restlessly. He checked his image in the long mirror. Nobody could possibly imagine what he’d been up to overnight. No one would know, certainly not the middle-aged detective who’d been put in charge of the case.
He’d watched the news first thing that morning and the appeal made by Superintendent Aileen Melody, who’d asked for the public’s support and vigilance in finding the person or persons responsible for the deaths of Savannah Hopkins and Harriet Long. He’d moved closer to the television set to look into her troubled eyes and saw she was panicked. The police had no idea of who was behind the murders and they didn’t even know there was now yet another missing girl to search for.
He had been irked to discover the detective leading the investigation reminded him of Faye Boynton. Faye, who bossed people about and let them do her dirty work. He’d searched for information on DI Natalie Ward online and discovered, thanks to a newspaper article, that she was married with two children, and one was a fourteen-year-old girl. Wouldn’t it be something if he brought the investigation even closer to her doorstep? The thought amused him. He might just do that. However, for now he had to keep up appearances and enjoy the havoc he was causing.
* * *
Natalie was reading through the case file from Manchester when Ian arrived for work. One suspect had stood out more than the others: an out-of-work drifter named Brendon Jones, who’d been living on a canal boat close to the Kumars’ restaurant. With no alibi, he’d been their prime suspect for a long time, but due to lack of evidence he had been released. Ian noticed the file open on her desk.
‘I checked out all the suspects in that case. None of them appear to be in the area but I couldn’t locate their main suspect, Brendon Jones. I asked a colleague up there to look into it and see if he’s still around.’
‘Okay. We’ll keep an open mind for now.’
‘I spoke to Murray downstairs. He brought me up to speed. I hear Kyle’s been charged.’
‘Yes, we handed him over to the drug squad. He apparently had a stash of drugs and dealings with a number of schoolchildren in the area.’
‘Bastard. Hope they lock him away for a long time.’
‘Who’s that?’ said Murray, before adding, ‘Morning, Natalie.’
‘Kyle Yates.’
‘Oh him! What a bloody waste of time it was chasing about after him. Thought we’d nailed our killer for a while there. Got anything new?’
Natalie shook her head. ‘I was going back through the Manchester file on the off-chance I spotted something. Mike might have some news if we’re lucky. At the moment, we’ll have to continue to slog through CCTV footage.’
‘Where do you want me to start?’
‘The cameras on the main road to Bramshall. There are two camera points I’m interested in: one before the turning into the woods and one after the estate where Harriet lived. Check vehicles, registrations and timings. You’re hunting for anomalies – any vehicle that might pass either camera only to reappear a short while later. It’s just a theory but one of the vehicles’ occupants might have stopped at the turn-off to discard Harriet’s body.’
‘Any timeframe I should be looking at in particular?’
‘Start at midnight and work through to when she was discovered.’
Lucy was next to arrive and was about to get to work when Natalie received a call from Graham. Another fourteen-year-old, Katy Bywater, had gone missing in Watfield, and although he was conducting a full search for her, he thought Natalie should be involved.
‘When did Katy disappear?’ Natalie asked.
‘Her father, Christopher, doesn’t know. She was at home when he got in from work. He’s a tyre fitter for A1 Tyres. They had a meal together and then she went upstairs to her room, which was usual. He went down the pub at quarter to eight, and when he returned home at about ten thirty, her light was off, so he assumed she was asleep. This morning, she didn’t get up when he called her, and when he went to wake her he found her bed hadn’t been slept in. He thinks she’s run away.’
‘Where was her mother at the time?’
‘She died a year ago. There’s only him and Katy. You’d be best off speaking to him and making your own judgements, but it seems things have been strained between them recently and she’s run away before. This might not have any bearing on your investigation but I thought you ought to know all the same. She’s got an iPad, which we’re checking out at the moment for any leads, but I’ll make sure you get it.’
‘We’re on our way.’
‘I’ll meet you at their house in about forty minutes.’
All faces in the room had turned in her direction. ‘You probably gathered we have another potential victim – Katy Bywater. She attends Watfield Secondary School, the same school as Savannah, but is in the year above her. Lives about four streets away from her. Her father thinks she might have run away. She went missing sometime last night while her father was out, so it might not be linked to our investigation, but let’s not take any chances. Ian, find any useful information about Katy that you can and let us know.’ She picked up her jacket and threw it on. Lucy and Murray were right behind her as she clattered downstairs and outside into the bright sunshine.
The Bywaters lived on a seemingly never-ending road of semi-detached houses that began at the main road where the Hopkins family lived, curved past Watfield Secondary School and the Aldi supermarket, and ended up feeding into Church Street. Officers were walking the length of the street, talking to residents on their doorsteps, and the faces of concerned bystanders turned as Natalie and her team approached and joined the numerous vehicles now lining the road.
A small group of people was gathered by Christopher Bywater’s gate, talking to a man in blue overalls bearing the name of the tyre-fitting company. Natalie let out a groan when she recognised two of them: Bev Gardiner, the reporter from the Watfield Herald and her sidekick photographer.
‘What the fuck’s he up to?’ Natalie muttered before leaping out of the car and striding in his direction, where she spoke assertively. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to move away, please. We need to talk to Mr Bywater alone.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Christopher. ‘I don’t mind talking to them. They might be able to help find her.’
‘Sir, you ought not to speak to anyone at the moment. Weren’t you advised of that?’
‘Yes, but I thought it would be okay.’
‘DI Ward, do you believe Katy has been snatched by the killer stalking the streets of Watfield?’ Bev asked in a loud voice.
Natalie was aware of the anxious looks being cast in her direction. These concerned citizens needed to move away and let them get on with their jobs. Christopher Bywa
ter shouldn’t be outside holding private press conferences and he ought to have an officer with him. ‘No comment. Mr Bywater, can we talk inside, please?’
Christopher shook his head. ‘But—’
Natalie moved in front of him, blocking him from the reporter. ‘Sir, we need to talk inside, please. It’s very important.’
He lifted a hand to thank the reporter, and Natalie and Lucy guided him towards the house while Murray waited by the gate to ensure everyone dispersed.
The house was a modest affair, built in the 1960s and in dire need of redecoration. The front door opened onto a hall, barely large enough for one person let alone two. Natalie couldn’t ignore the brown and orange carpet – a leftover relic that not only covered the stairs directly in front of her but extended through to the room on the right, which served as both a dining room and sitting room. Someone had tried to make the place more homely by adding deep-orange cushions to the brown-leather settee and matching chair that was turned towards the television in the corner of the room, along with a faux-fur rug that hid the ghastly swirling pattern on the carpet. A round table with two chairs took up the rest of the space, along with a dresser housing ornaments and photographs. A couple of well-thumbed teen magazines lay beside the chair next to an empty mug bearing the name Katy.
Christopher pressed fingertips against his forehead. ‘I’m a bit confused. I’ve already spoken to DI Kilburn. I thought he was in charge of the search for Katy?’
‘That’s correct but we are assisting. We’ve been investigating recent disappearances ourselves and it was thought prudent we got involved.’
Christopher dropped down onto the chair with a heavy thump. ‘Oh, lord, no. You’re in charge of those murders, aren’t you?’ He dropped his head into his hands then let out a quiet groan.
‘We don’t know what’s happened to Katy but it would help if you could tell us everything that happened last night, so we can work out when she left the house.’