Nine Lives

by Anita Waller

  Susie was wearing a strappy top, her right arm raised to her eyes, shielding them from the bright sunshine. Her tattoo was clearly visible, and Erica used her fingers to enlarge the butterfly.

  ‘What is she like, your Susie?’

  ‘Generous, pretty, clever – cleverer than me, anyway,’ Becky said. ‘Which is why we don’t understand her not contacting us. She knows we’ll be going out of our minds with worry. One other thing is that she has type-one diabetes, and we’re really concerned because she’ll be needing her insulin.’

  Erica gave a brief nod. ‘Does she have a boyfriend?’

  ‘She has a friend. I’m not convinced it’s a love thing, they’ve been boyfriend and girlfriend since they were about six, but he lives in Bridlington, a couple of doors away from her parents’ home. They’re close, but Susie’s going to have a career that will take her away from Bridlington, so… His name is Brandon Eyre.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Erica said, again with a slight affirmative nod. ‘And the rest of you? Do you have boyfriends?’

  ‘No. We’ve had a couple of dates, but nothing that would make us think boyfriends. DI Cheetham, is there something you’re not telling us?’ Worry flashed across Becky’s face as she spoke.

  Erica stood. ‘Give me a couple of minutes, girls. I’ll get back to you. Would you like a drink?’

  They asked for water, and Erica left the room heading towards the machine. She gathered together three cups of water, then texted Ivor Simmonite, asking for the tattoo picture to be forwarded to her phone.

  She returned to the family interview room, and handed out the paper cups of water. ‘Sorry, we don’t provide glasses, but the water is beautifully cold.’

  The two girls thanked her and took sips as Erica’s phone pinged. She opened the picture, and stared at it. It was the same as the picture she had seen on Katie’s phone.

  Erica waited until they had placed their drinks on the table, then lowered her voice. ‘I do have something to tell you. In the early hours of this morning we found the body of a young woman. She matches the description of Susie…’

  ‘No!’ came from both girls, simultaneously.

  Erica continued. ‘And furthermore she has a butterfly tattoo on her right shoulder which is a match for the tattoo on the picture on your phone, Katie.’

  At first the girls seemed unable to speak but eventually Becky stumbled through asking where they had found the body.

  ‘In the river?’ Katie gasped. ‘But she was an amazing swimmer.’

  ‘I think it’s highly likely she was killed, then dumped in the river,’ Erica explained as gently as she could, given the horrific visions she was conjuring up for the two students. ‘The River Porter is in full spate at the moment with all this rain, and if Susie hadn’t become trapped as the river passed through underneath the Midland Station, we might never have known what happened to her, as it goes out to the North Sea eventually. I have to go to Bridlington to tell Susie’s parents, but we also need to speak to…’ Erica glanced down at her notes, ‘Clare. I’m going to ask my DS to take you home, and to take statements from all three of you about what happened last night. Please don’t contact Susie’s parents until I’ve had time to talk to them, and I imagine they’ll be heading to Sheffield quickly to assist us with the identification.’

  ‘Can I see the picture on your phone of the tattoo?’ Katie asked, still unwilling to accept her friend was dead. It was clear she thought the tattoo might not be a match.

  Erica passed it to her, and she stifled a sob. ‘It is the same tattoo,’ Katie said. ‘The top two wings have a sort of curly S on the edges, for Susie. I was with her when she discussed the design with the tattooist.’

  ‘Had Susie fallen out with anyone in the recent past?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t like that.’ Becky shook her head in denial as she spoke. ‘In fact I’ve never heard Susie so much as swear, or say a wrong word about anybody. Why would somebody want to kill her? She was so lovely. Her parents will be devastated. She’s… was an only child.’

  Becky let the tears flow, remembering the week of nights spent under canvas, all four of them joined each evening by Brandon and Susie’s mum and dad, Olivia and Harry; the songs they had sung accompanied by Harry’s guitar playing. And she remembered the way Brandon hadn’t been able to take his eyes away from Susie. She suspected it was a case of absence making the heart grow fonder from Brandon’s point of view, but she knew Susie didn’t feel the same.

  If Becky was ever pushed to talk about the subject, she would have to say that Susie’s feelings were more directed towards Clare than they were towards Brandon. But this DI hadn’t asked, and Becky felt it wasn’t part of her remit to talk about it.

  Beth Machin drove them home, where Clare was waiting, eager for news.

  Clare was surprised to see the trio approach the back door, and felt a sickening thud inside her; something was seriously out of kilter.

  She flung open the door. ‘What’s wrong? You’ve found her?’

  Beth held up her warrant card. ‘DS Machin. We’d like to come in.’

  Clare stepped aside, feeling foolish because she was blocking their entry into the kitchen. ‘Sorry. I felt so worried. Becky, what’s happened?’

  ‘Can we sit down, Clare, please?’ Beth’s voice was gentle, and the four of them walked through to the lounge. It was a comfortable room with a large three-seater sofa and two armchairs, positioned to face a silent television. The room was warm, and Beth waited until the others were seated before sitting in an armchair.

  ‘Clare, I’m sorry to bring you bad news, but we’ve found a body who we believe to be your friend, Susanna Roebuck.’

  ‘No,’ Clare whispered, then shouted, ‘No!’

  Katie pulled her towards her, and held her, but Clare’s tears began immediately. She was inconsolable, but Katie didn’t let go until her sobs were almost under control.

  Becky had disappeared to make cups of tea, and Beth spoke again when Becky returned. ‘I have to ask some questions and take statements from all three of you,’ she said quietly, her voice calm as always. The girls responded by nodding, all three of them holding on to the mugs of tea as if their lives depended on it. Right at that moment they felt they did.

  ‘Okay,’ Beth began. ‘I can see how close you are, so have any of you noticed anybody strange hanging around, perhaps targeting you four specifically, or even only one of you? Somebody lurking, or being where you are more than you would expect them to be?’

  They looked at each other. ‘I wouldn’t say so,’ Katie said. ‘But with this awful weather you wouldn’t know anyway. Everybody has their hoods up, or an umbrella pulled low to shield their face, and it’s been like that for around three weeks now. As your boss said, the river’s in full spate…’ Katie paused and wiped away a tear.

  ‘What has the river got to do with it?’ Clare asked, aware she was missing something – nobody had told her how Susie had died.

  Katie clutched at her friend’s hand. ‘They found Susie in the river.’ Katie turned to Beth. ‘Did DI Cheetham say the Porter?’

  The DS nodded. ‘Yes, the Porter runs quite near to here, in the Ecclesall Road area, but it drops down into the centre and goes underneath the roads until it reaches the railway station. That’s where we found Susie.’

  Clare frowned. ‘But how? She was an amazing swimmer.’

  ‘Clare, I’m so sorry,’ DS Machin said. ‘Susie wouldn’t have had chance to swim, she was dead before she entered the water. We believe whoever killed her hoped she would be carried down the river with the water being so fast, and eventually out to the North Sea. She became trapped, and her body was wedged tightly against some large stones.’

  ‘You’re sure it’s her?’ Clare was heartbroken.

  ‘Very sure, and we’re expecting her parents to formally identify her tomorrow.’ Beth opened her briefcase. ‘Let’s get these statements done, and I’ll leave you to think about Susie in your own way.’
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br />   4

  Frannie heard Erica enter and hang her coat in the small cloakroom. Her work was spread out on the coffee table, and she quickly gathered them up. ‘I’ll put these away, Erica, they can wait until tomorrow. Wine?’

  ‘Please. I can only have one though. Just in case…’

  Frannie looked up from gathering the papers into a tidy pile. ‘In case what?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ Erica looked and sounded weary. ‘There’s something not right about this. As I said this morning, we have a dead girl who disappeared within a few seconds really, strangled and dumped in a river. The strange thing about this particular river is that it’s normally quite gentle. Locals call it the Porter Brook, rather than its official title of the River Porter, but with all this bloody rain it’s quite frightening. I’m meeting Susie’s parents tomorrow morning for a formal identification, but they might as well have come tonight, because they’re going to get no sleep.’

  ‘Only child?’

  Erica nodded.

  ‘Shit. My heart goes out to them.’

  ‘They want to go up and see the girls Susie lived with, after they’ve seen Susie. I think Olivia, her mum, needs that.’

  Frannie stood. ‘I’ll get us that wine.’

  Erica sat back and thought through everything that had happened, and the awfulness of having to go to that welcoming home and tell them of their daughter’s death. Pictures of Susie were everywhere, and they had given her one so that they could begin to show it around the university campus, trying to track down what had happened between Susie exiting the theatre, and two or three minutes later being followed by Clare. In that short space of time Susie had broken all the rules. Erica looked up and smiled as Frannie returned bearing what appeared to be two buckets of wine.

  ‘If you’re only having one, make it a big one. Gin glass size.’

  Erica took the glass and sipped at the Prosecco. ‘Thank you. Can I bounce stuff off you, or have you got enough on your plate?’ Frannie’s job in child protection with social services was similar to her own in that cases lived with them twenty-four hours a day, and they tried not to bring the stuff running around inside their heads into the home.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Okay, two girls go to the university’s Drama Studio. You know where it is? Between the children’s hospital and the Royal Hallamshire?’

  Frannie nodded. ‘Been to it a couple of times. Carry on.’

  ‘They watched Macbeth, which is part of the course they’re both taking. They were with a group of people they knew, although they hadn’t arranged to meet up with them, it happened. When the performance ended, Clare needed the loo, so asked Susie to wait outside the theatre, as they had arranged to meet up in the pub with the other two housemates from their student accommodation.’

  She paused, and Frannie spoke. ‘Okay, I’ve got the picture so far.’

  ‘Clare came out two or three minutes after Susie, but couldn’t see her. She had a good look because it was still raining heavily, and everybody had umbrellas or hoods up. She hung around for some time thinking maybe Susie had changed her mind about needing the loo, but she didn’t arrive. By then Clare was feeling pissed off, and walked down to the pub on her own, where she met up with the two housemates, Becky and Katie. Susie wasn’t with them.’

  Frannie took another sip of wine. ‘I’m going to presume this is totally out of character.’

  ‘Absolutely. The girls wanted to contact us immediately, but Becky, who seems to be the mother hen of the group, pointed out that the police wouldn’t do anything, Susie was a student and students are rather scatter-brained. She could have wandered off with some other group, and gone to a party. And she’s right. We didn’t know Susie, and would have said wait twenty-four hours, then come and see us. They arrived this morning, worried out of their heads. Things had taken a turn for the worse, and we had found Susie’s body, although at that stage we didn’t know who she was. What I want to bounce off you is that two or three minutes. Tell me a scenario.’

  ‘For three minutes? I think the most obvious thing is she knew whoever abducted her. Possibly a car pulled up and told her to get in to shelter from the rain.’

  ‘I thought that, but it didn’t feel right. It’s near the traffic lights, so whoever pulled up couldn’t stay there, and there’s no parking either as it turns left to go up past the children’s hospital, or straight across to head towards West Street.’

  ‘Maybe he said get in and we’ll wait for your mate to come out. If she knew him, she would do that.’ Frannie hesitated, still thinking. ‘Have you had the PM results back yet? Toxicology?’

  ‘You’re thinking he gave her something? An injection? Nothing’s through yet. That would be the obvious thing, though, wouldn’t it. Inject her with some strong drug as soon as she got in the car, and then simply drive away. We need to interview everybody who was outside that theatre immediately after the performance. I’ll get Beth organising that, because I need to be available for Mr and Mrs Roebuck tomorrow.’

  ‘You really don’t enjoy working with Beth, do you?’

  ‘Oh she’s okay,’ Erica muttered. ‘She sometimes makes me feel inadequate.’

  ‘She’s a DS. You’re a DI. Come on, you’re streets in front of her, her boss.’

  Erica picked up her wine glass. ‘But she’s clever. Bet she knew the bloody River Porter ran under Midland Station. That reminds me, I need to look it up. I need to know everything about this overgrown stream before I get to that briefing tomorrow morning.’

  ‘That overgrown little stream was a main player in the start of the steel industry in Sheffield.’ Frannie laughed. ‘If ever this rain stops we’ll head up to Ringinglow where it starts, and we’ll follow it down to where it ends. Then you’ll understand it.’

  ‘You know it?’

  ‘Did the walk with school many years ago. Fascinating actually.’

  ‘Tell me what you remember. Any parts you thought might be a good place to dump a body?’

  ‘At the age of thirteen or whatever I was, I didn’t think about potential body-dumping sites. Sorry.’

  ‘Huh,’ Erica grumbled as she took another sip of wine. ‘You’ll never make a police officer.’

  ‘Erica, my love, I don’t ever want to be a police officer.’

  Frannie smiled at the woman who had come into her life so unexpectedly a few years earlier. Erica had been part of a team investigating child trafficking, and had as a result come to her for advice. The attraction had been immediate, and two months later they had bought a house together, and followed it up with a wedding.

  Frannie stood. ‘Have you eaten?’

  ‘Not had time. Let’s have a takeaway. Then I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Pizza?’

  Erica nodded, and laid her head back. ‘This wine is nice.’

  ‘Want some more?’

  ‘If I use the same glass, does it count as only one glass of wine?’

  Frannie smiled. ‘It does.’

  ‘Then maybe a drop.’

  Frannie picked up both glasses and walked through to the kitchen. She topped them up, rang the pizza shop, and carried them back through to the lounge. Erica was on the phone, so she quietly placed her glass on the coffee table, and went to get plates for them.

  Erica looked puzzled. ‘That was Ivor. Wants me down at the PM suite as early as possible tomorrow to show me something. Didn’t want to tell me over the phone, wants to see my reaction, and see if I sense what he’s sensing, were his words. This doesn’t feel good, Frannie, it doesn’t feel good at all. In fact it’s proper unnerved me. Do you think he didn’t want me to have any sleep at all?’

  Frannie laughed. ‘If you can’t get to sleep, I’ll hit you over the head with a book or something.’

  ‘Thanks, you’re a true friend. Seriously, though, what’s he found?’ Erica took a long drink of the wine.

  ‘Slow down, sounds as if you need to be sober tomorrow morning. Stop worrying
about it now, let’s watch some TV while we have the pizza, then go to bed. That phone call this morning woke us both, so an early night won’t hurt either of us.’

  The doorbell summoned Frannie, and she returned with the pizza. ‘Eat,’ she commanded, and Erica picked up a slice.

  ‘Food,’ she murmured, as if she hadn’t seen any for weeks. ‘This is so good. Will there be any left for breakfast?’

  ‘You’re a heathen, Erica Cheetham. Nobody has pizza for breakfast. Try toast instead.’

  They watched half an hour of Vera, then switched off the television, cleared away the debris of their meal, and headed up to bed. Both were asleep within minutes.

  It wasn’t so in the house with only three girls in it. Clare had confessed to Becky and Katie that things had progressed with her and Susie, and Katie and Becky confirmed that they had realised that. Tears had flowed all night and the talk had centred around what could possibly have happened to their friend.

  ‘She was there and then she wasn’t,’ Clare wailed. ‘Why? She wouldn’t hurt anybody, she’d done nothing wrong. How could somebody have taken her from me, just like that?’

  ‘Somebody she knew?’ Becky frowned. ‘It had to be. She wouldn’t get into a stranger’s car, or even walk with a stranger. None of it makes sense. And how did she end up in the river? Where did she go in?’

  ‘Would she walk with a female? Or get in a car with a female?’ Katie spoke quietly. ‘I think we’re all assuming it’s a man, but we don’t know.’

  Tears rolled down Clare’s cheeks once again, and they made the decision to go to bed, and wait until Harry and Olivia arrived to see them. Maybe they would have more details by then.

  And the first day passed. No answers, only questions, intermittent sleep, and a reluctance to face a new day. Erica rolled over and disturbed Frannie, who enfolded her in her arms, wishing she could offer more comfort, knowing how bad the scene that had confronted her wife must have been, in that murky place under the station. She had nothing but admiration for the woman she loved, for dealing with the horrors that one person could inflict on another.