by Emmy Ellis
He searches for ten minutes in the hedges but can’t spare any more time. If the others wake up and he’s not there…
He heads for the access road and jumps in his car, gets back to the room he’d kept Dirty Girl in, removing his clothing and stashing it away in an old cupboard along with the outfit he’d used when he’d brought her here, among others. He redresses then takes the bag of her filthy, shit-stained clothes and rushes out into the back garden, scattering her things over the grass. The carrier bag he takes back inside and shoves it into the recently purchased incinerator. With a quick check to make sure Dirty Girl’s spider hair is still on the pillow—it is—he goes and join the others, who are still snoring in front of the TV.
Settling into a chair, he closes his eyes, thinking it would be as well that he also has a nap. It’ll make it more authentic when someone else wakes and finds him sleeping.
As he drifts off, he thinks about how he’s going to have to find Dirty Girl all over again and shut her the fuck up for good.
Chapter Six
Tracy sat on the edge of Nada’s desk after contacting SOCO to go out to Blooming Age and do a sweep for any evidence that may have been left behind. “So, nothing on Mrs Roberts except what we already know—elderly lady, lived in a care home, had diabetes and severe anxiety. No priors, not a bad word to be said about her from the people you contacted. That right, Nada?”
“Yes, boss. But Mr Roberts, her son—Frankie—was arrested for disorderly conduct in eighty-nine. Just a kid at the time, and he hasn’t done anything wrong since, not even so much as a parking ticket. The arrest was for a bit of a scuffle in a youth centre, that was all. Two lads started on him, he fought back.”
“Okay. I didn’t have a feeling it was anything to do with him when we spoke,” Tracy said, “but that doesn’t mean anything. My gut instinct could be broken today.”
“My head’s broken,” Alastair said.
“Too many bevvies last night, was it?” Tracy asked.
Everyone laughed, and it was nice to hear. The team worked hard and deserved a bit of light-heartedness every now and then. Not too much, though, or they’d get jack shit done.
“No, I banged my head on the top of the doorframe,” Alastair said, rubbing it for effect.
“But you’re a short-arse. How the hell did you do that?” Tracy asked.
Alastair blushed. “I’d rather not say.”
“Something kinky going on, was there?” Tim raised his eyebrows.
“Not bloody likely,” Alastair said.
Much as the teasing was enjoyable, Tracy needed them to get on with the job. “Sorry to break this up, guys, but we have a dead woman to get some justice for, so we need to move on.” She paused. “Anything else, Nada?”
“Mrs Roberts, Frankie’s wife—Polly—is clean. We’ve been digging about on their social media, and Frankie and Polly present themselves as your usual married couple with kids. All posts are positive and happy, but not the kind of happy where you can tell people are making out life is great when really it’s crap.”
“I was just going to ask that,” Tracy said. “So much of social media is lies.” A bit like my life. “So, we’re not really any further forward, are we. Shit.” She rammed a hand through her hair. “Right, I’m going to get in contact with the officers who turned up at Blooming Age first, see if they have any information we haven’t. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Tracy left the incident room and took the stairs to the front desk. If she didn’t lose weight with all that climbing up and going down, she’d blow a gasket.
The waiting area was surprisingly empty, so she leant on the desk and jerked her head at Vic. He strolled over, cup in hand, grin in place. She liked him.
“What can I do you for, boss?”
“You’re not doing me for anything, mate.” She grinned. “On a serious note, I want to know who went out to the Blooming Age care home in the early hours. I need to have a word.”
“Give us a sec and I’ll tell you.” He put his cup down and tapped on the keyboard on the desk. “The poor sods are still there.”
“What, the PCs I saw there earlier have been there since they were called out? That doesn’t sound right. No shift change?”
Vic shrugged. “Got a note on here that they requested to stay.”
“Hmm. Get one on the phone for me, will you?”
While she waited for Vic to make contact, Tracy walked around the waiting area and stopped short. She hadn’t had time to take note before, but Lisa’s EFIT was tacked at the top of an information board with the caption: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN? Tracy’s stomach churned. Of course the image would be there and in any police station close to the one in the city. Especially as Lisa was believed to have slit the throat of a police chief. Tracy shuddered and turned her back on her sister’s likeness, unable to stand looking at it anymore.
Unable to stand being reminded of the lies.
“Right, boss. Here you go.” Vic handed the phone over. “James Quinn for you.”
“Thanks.” Tracy put the phone to her ear. “Hi, James, DI Tracy Collier. I just wanted to touch base to see what went on during the night after you arrived. I should have asked you while I was there earlier.” But I forgot, for fuck’s sake. So much for her action sheets. She didn’t even follow them herself.
“Hello, ma’am. Everyone on scene was interviewed, and while that was going on, I had a look around. I found some dirty clothing on the back lawn so got that photographed then packed up as possible evidence. No one there had seen it before; it didn’t belong to any nurses or residents.”
Tracy frowned. “Hmm. Wonder what it was doing there then?”
“No idea. It belongs to a woman—or I assume it does anyway, going by the sizing.”
“Why did you choose to stick around? You know, pull a double shift?”
“Could have been my nan, ma’am. I just felt the need to see it through instead of leaving it to the next lot.”
“That’s nice of you. I take it the evidence—the clothing—has been sent in already?”
“Um, no.”
She imagined him wincing.
“Where is it?” she asked, her stomach rolling.
“I’ve locked it in a safe in the manager’s office.”
“Christ. That’s a bit of a mistake, isn’t it, but I’ll pretend I know nothing about it and come and pick it up myself, okay?”
“Thanks, ma’am. What with everything going on…it was so busy with all the nurses, and some residents woke up because of the noise. Bloody chaos for a while, it was.”
“Next time, call for someone to collect it if you can’t leave the scene.”
“Will do. Thanks, ma’am.”
“For what?”
“You know…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She smiled, feeling stupid for it, because he couldn’t even sodding see her.
“Err, yes, ma’am.”
“SOCO might get to you before me. I’ve not long asked them to go down there.”
“What are they needed for, ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Mrs Roberts was found dead this morning. Please keep that to yourself. I don’t want anyone who was there at the time to be aware we know.”
“D’you think it was someone here?” He sounded gobsmacked.
“It’s possible. We can’t discount any theory at the moment.”
“Blimey.”
“Okay, let’s get off the phone now. I’ll be there in a bit. This is as much my fault as it is yours, by the way, that thing I’m not telling anyone about. I should have spoken to you while I was there, but I got caught up myself, so I know how it goes.”
“You’re very kind, ma’am.”
Don’t you believe it. I’m covering my own arse as well as yours. I’m a selfish bitch, no point pretending I’m not.
“No problem. Catch you soon.”
She called Damon to ask him to tell the team they were going back to t
he care home and for him to join her downstairs. She gave Vic the phone, thanked him, then headed for her car, thinking Damon would gather where she’d gone. Inside, she had a look at herself in the rearview mirror. Someone stood there behind her car, a woman with purple hair and thick-lens specs. Tracy’s stomach muscles contracted, and her heartrate kicked into overdrive.
What the fuck?
She jumped out, dashing towards the back of the car, but the woman had gone.
Not just a woman. Lisa. With purple hair this time?
Tracy frantically walked around the parking area, peering inside each vehicle in case Lisa was in one of them. She wasn’t, so Tracy ran to the entrance and glanced up and down the road. No one, not even a cyclist.
Christ…
Adrenaline rush fading, she semi-staggered towards the station door, needing a drink to soothe her suddenly parched throat. She pushed inside, intent on getting to the toilet, but Damon came flying around the corner from the stairwell.
“Hi,” Tracy managed, the word breathy. “Ready?”
“Yep. Sorry I took so long. The farmer called. Wanted to know when he could use his field again.”
“Hmm, that’s one for SOCO to answer.” She moved to the desk.
“On it, boss,” Vic said.
“Earwigging, were you?” She smiled.
“Bit hard not to when you’re both talking loudly.”
“Get you.” She laughed and nipped to the loo to wet her throat. Back in reception, she clicked her thumb and finger at Damon and left the station, amazed at how chameleon-like she was, changing moods so quickly. Covering up. Lying.
Damon strode beside her. “Any reason for going back, or did your gut start talking to you and you’ve got one of those hunches we’re meant to always have?”
“All my gut’s saying is that I forgot to eat breakfast. We need to collect something at the care home.” She got into the car.
“Oh yeah?” Damon said, sitting beside her and securing his safety belt.
“Yes.” She started the engine then set off. “Keep this between us, obviously… I don’t want to get the officer in the shit because it means plunging myself in it, too, but—”
“Bugger. Did you drop the ball?”
“I did. From a great height. Not only did I forget to speak to the uniforms at the home earlier, but James Quinn, one of the PCs, found evidence, and since he was so busy, he bagged it and put it in the manager’s safe.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly that. I told him we’ll pick it up and say no more about it. I should have been more diligent.” She sighed. “More and more lately, I’m fucking up.”
“Let it go,” he said. “It’s tough being in your position. Have you got anything on your mind? You haven’t been quite the same since—”
“I’m fine.” Don’t go there, Damon. “I’m just a tetchy cow, you know that. Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down, and if you’re really lucky, most times I’m in between.” She glanced over and smiled, hoping he’d forget what he’d been about to say. “I’m just glad, once again, that I twigged what I hadn’t done so I can fix it. I’m getting on my own nerves with this bad memory business.”
“Well, you’re not getting on mine, so that’s a bonus.”
She laughed. “One day I will.”
“Maybe.”
They continued without speaking. That was the best thing about being with Damon. He didn’t expect her to talk all the time, to fill what some might say were awkward silences. She mulled over why her brain tended to skip over some things, why there seemed to be a black hole in her head where important information disappeared, only to come out again when she was either occupied with something else or it woke her from sleep.
Maybe my head’s too full all the time. Maybe that mind box of mine needs emptying.
To be free, she’d need a therapist, and she didn’t fancy doing that again. Did she? Dr F had led her down a path that had revealed far more than she’d bargained for in The Past. She couldn’t imagine what another stint of sessions would produce. Things she’d forgotten about because they were too traumatic to remember? What if there were far more things that had happened to her, and she had no idea because her mind had confiscated them to save her sanity? She had to admit, she’d felt better somehow after telling Dr F about the rainbow scarf day and how she’d burnt her leg on the three-bar fire as a kid. Would talking about everything cure her? Make her a nicer person?
“I might see someone,” she blurted.
“Pardon?” Damon scratched his temple. “Did I miss something before you said that?”
“No. I might go and see someone. You know…”
“Oh. So you’re ready for that?”
“Might be.”
“I’ll leave you to find the right person and make an appointment this time.”
“That would be best, yes.”
Chapter Seven
Tracy turned into the Blooming Age driveway and parked near the front doors, glad that conversation couldn’t carry on. The PC who had been outside before had gone, and Simone York had taken his place. They must have wrapped things up at the field, then, for her to be here.
“Hi,” Tracy said. “Information blackout regarding Mrs Roberts’ body being found this morning, please. No talking to nurses or other staff about it.”
“Yes, boss.”
Tracy swept inside. “Over here,” she told Damon, walking towards the other PC she recognised as being the one who’d stood with Mr Roberts earlier.
He turned and smiled, flushing a little, and ended his conversation with the receptionist to join Tracy in the centre of the foyer. “James Quinn, ma’am.”
“Hello, you.” She held out a hand, and they shook, more to seal their deal than to make nice. “I’ll collect the bags in a bit. Better to keep them locked up for now.”
“Okay. I need to chat to that lady there,” he said. “She’s one of the daytime staff. I’m talking to everyone who came on shift this morning.”
“Report anything suspicious to me, all right? I’m going to call a couple of people from my team and ask them to come down and help you out. You must be exhausted.”
“Thank you.” He walked off and sat beside a woman who had clearly been crying.
Tracy called Nada and requested that she ask Tim and Erica to come and do some questioning. “But I want you to go down and see Gilbert if he’s back from the scene.”
“Me?” Nada said, a bit on the high-pitched side.
“Yes, you. Aren’t you up for that or what?”
“Well, yes, but… I just wasn’t expecting something so…”
“Important?”
“Yes.”
“And why’s that? You’re my right-hand woman. This will give you more experience for when you go for an inspector’s exam in the future.”
“Oh, I really don’t think—”
“I do. You’re a brilliant copper.” She’d better lower her voice. “I want you to view Mrs Roberts and see if anything springs out at you. It’s all a bit off to me, the way she left and ended up in a field. I’ve got things to do here at the home, otherwise I’d go with you. Take Alastair. He can rub your back if you puke.”
“Oh, don’t…”
“I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She shoved the phone in her pocket.
Catching Zello’s attention, Tracy waved, and the woman came stalking over.
“There are people in white jumpsuits walking around,” Zello whispered, her eyes darting here and there, as if she was on some kind of covert mission. All she’d need was a magnifying glass and she’d be well away. “It’s terribly upsetting for the residents.”
“Better that they’re here to find evidence so we can collar who…” Tracy stopped herself. Then again, wasn’t it better to inform the manager about what had happened? “Give me a second.”
She turned to find Quinn coming towards her. Tilting her head to one side, she waited for him to follow her to a corner.
<
br /> “What’s up, ma’am?”
“Mrs Zello. Did her alibi check out?”
“Yes. She was at home, family dinner—extended family, too, plus the owner of this place. They stayed up chatting until two, then everyone left. Mrs Zello went to bed, her husband verified it. I know a spouse can cover up for their other half, but we can’t prove she wasn’t in bed, so…”
“Okay. Fine. I’m going to let her know what happened to Mrs Roberts. She might even know if Mr Roberts said something after I left.” What a shit-show. I should have stayed here for a while longer. “I’ve got Tim and Erica coming down to lend a hand with the questioning. Together you should get through it quickly. I’ve got to get on. I’ll say goodbye before I go.”
She made yet another called to Nada to get her to ask Julia, the family liaison officer, to pay a visit to Mr and Mrs Roberts before their children came home from school. The poor couple probably needed some support.
She returned to the manager and asked if they could talk privately, then crooked her finger at Damon for him to join them.
In her office, Zello wrung her hands while standing beside a large window. Trees swayed at the bottom of the lawn, and SOCOs knelt on the grass, sifting through it. They concentrated beside a pruned bush.
That must be where the clothes were. And shit, there are groundskeepers who could have been involved in this. They’ll need to be spoken to.
Damon stood beside Zello and peered out.
“What on earth is going on?” Zello jabbed her thumb towards the glass. “This is most unsettling.”
Tracy delivered the news in her usual manner. “Mrs Roberts was found dead in a field this morning.”