The Lost

by Mari Hannah

  ‘You’re right. Let’s get out of here.’

  Frankie pointed at his phone. ‘Want me to view the link while you drive?’

  ‘If you would.’ He started the car, indicating his intention to leave his parking spot. A grey BMW flashed him out and he stuck a thumb up to show his appreciation.

  Frankie tutted, a gesture of frustration. ‘Control must’ve sent the wrong link. This is about an RTA.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ Stone found the outside lane. ‘We’ll check it out when we get to HQ.’

  To kill the tedium of another journey to base, Frankie read on. ‘Or maybe not,’ she said, eyes scanning the text.

  Her serious tone of voice had Stone intrigued.

  He glanced at her.

  ‘Pathologist isn’t happy,’ she said by way of explanation.

  Stone was asking for details she’d rather not share. One fatal road traffic accident was enough for him this week; she didn’t want him traumatised by another so soon after the first.

  ‘Well?’ He waited.

  ‘Says here the casualty was already lying in the road when she was hit.’

  ‘Nasty . . . What the hell was she doing there? And why are we getting involved?’

  ‘She has an inconsistent injury—’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘You sure you want me to go on?’

  ‘I’m fine, Frankie.’ He seemed irritated by her concern.

  ‘The car ran straight over her. Catastrophic crush injuries: collapsed lung, ruptured spleen, broken bones. It missed her head entirely and yet – and this is the important bit – she has an injury to the back of her skull that bears no road debris. The pathologist believes it was sustained before the accident, not during, incapacitating but not killing her. He has it down as suspicious.’

  ‘Then it’s a job for the Murder Investigation Team.’

  ‘Not if the injured party happens to be someone we already know.’ Frankie turned to face him, a grave expression on her face. ‘You’ve been put in charge of the outside enquiry team, David – the IP is Justine Segal.’

  30

  At Northern Command Headquarters, Superintendent Gale was wound up, barking orders at anyone who’d listen, according to the front desk. Despite his obvious dislike of Frankie Oliver, he needed his best team on a suspicious death linked with a family who’d only just been reunited with a missing son.

  Stone knocked on the door, a sideways glance. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Anytime,’ Frankie grinned.

  David poked her shoulder playfully. ‘Don’t wind him up.’

  ‘Me?’ Simulating horror, Frankie straightened her face and opened the door, throwing Windy her best smile as she entered his office, a glance at the clock on the wall behind him. ‘Afternoon, sir. The desk sergeant said you wanted to brief us right away. We didn’t keep you, I hope. I know you like to get a wriggle on, it being Wednesday afternoon. Your mid-week tee off is at four, isn’t it?’

  Stone cut her off. ‘What Frankie means is it’s a long way from Alnwick, sir.’

  Windy was irritated about more than Frankie’s barefaced cheek. ‘Why wasn’t I told that Timothy Parker – the stepfather of your recent misper – is acquainted with the Chief Constable?’ He didn’t wait for a response and none was forthcoming. ‘I’m not sure how and, to be perfectly frank, I’m not keen on finding out. Suffice to say, he’s in a foul mood now the family au pair has come to grief. Will one of you tell me what in God’s name is going on?’

  ‘We were rather hoping you’d tell us,’ Frankie said. ‘If Parker knows the Chief, he didn’t say anything to us. And, with respect, it wouldn’t have made any difference if he had.’

  Windy ignored her. ‘DI Stone?’

  ‘Frankie has been fielding calls left right and centre on the way down the A1. I’d like to speak with the senior traffic investigator before I comment, sir. The officer in question is due to go off shift. She’s standing by to speak to us. It’s also crucial that I liaise with the pathologist before he leaves for the weekend. He’s also waiting.’ It was a heavy hint that they were needed elsewhere.

  ‘Very well, I won’t keep you . . .’ Windy stood up, pulling his jacket from the back of his chair. ‘I want a comprehensive report in my inbox by close of play.’

  The senior accident investigator met them as arranged directly outside the morgue. From their greeting, it was clear that she and Frankie knew each other well. Stone liked Inspector Andrea McGovern instantly. She was straightforward, no airs and graces, a woman who seemed overly pleased to meet him for some reason and yet a little wary perhaps. He felt an instant affinity to her and couldn’t fathom why.

  ‘I told Andrea all about you,’ Frankie said.

  ‘Did you now.’ Stone narrowed his eyes.

  ‘None of it repeatable,’ McGovern said. ‘Though I’m open to a bribe if you’re desperate.’ Her handshake was solid. ‘Good to finally meet you.’ She paused, her smile fading. ‘I’m sorry for your loss. I did all I could for Luke.’ She swallowed hard, another awkward pause. ‘As soon as he mentioned that you were a copper, I realised who you were and that you worked with Frankie.’

  ‘Was it you who—’ Stone broke off.

  ‘Yes, I was first on the scene . . . If it would help to sit down and chat sometime, I’d be happy to.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  Now Stone understood. His connection with Andrea McGovern extended beyond the fact that they were police officers. She’d comforted his brother in his darkest hour. He’d never be able to tell her how much he appreciated the gesture, the attempt to make him feel better. He held back from asking what exactly had been said or finding out if his brother knew how critically injured he was. He had so many questions. None he could ask now. They would talk again . . . when he was less raw.

  Frankie came to his rescue in the nick of time. ‘Shall we go in?’

  Paul Mason, the Home Office pathologist, was a man in his fifties with a dark complexion and a silver head of hair that contrasted with the growth on his chin where it had already turned white. There were signs of premature ageing around kind, intelligent eyes that looked out through a pair of thin-rimmed, titanium specs, and the worst cauliflower ear Frankie had ever seen. She’d called ahead to warn Mason of their arrival and to ensure that it was a convenient time for them to view the body and discuss his findings. The injuries to Justine were no more and no less than either detective was expecting.

  Mason lifted the sheet covering her body. Over and above the marks of a recent post-mortem, there were catastrophic injuries to the torso, bruising where the wheels of a car had run over her as well as multiple lesions.

  ‘I’d like to start with Inspector McGovern if I may,’ Stone said. It was important to review all the facts relevant to the investigation. ‘Andrea, can you give us the rundown on the incident from your point of view?’

  ‘The call came into Control at 15:05. Paramedics and two Traffic vehicles were dispatched. Our guys got there first, established a perimeter and questioned the drivers of the two cars directly involved. They had been heading towards each other on the humpback bridge that crosses Hart Burn on a bend in the road, an Audi A3 travelling south, a Ford Focus travelling north. It’s a blind summit for any vehicle approaching from the north side. When the Audi was flashed by the oncoming car, the driver assumed it meant go, put his foot down and carried on. The driver of the Ford meant stop, not go. The victim was lying in the road. Powerless to do anything to prevent what happened next, the Ford driver looked on as the Audi mounted the brow of the hill and ran right over her. Ms Segal took the full force and was pronounced dead at the scene.’

  Stone almost shuddered. ‘I believe you told Frankie that the scene gave no cause for concern initially?’

  ‘I wasn’t there myself,’ McGovern said. ‘But that is correct, yes.’

  �
�They must’ve had some cause for concern or they wouldn’t have called out Mr Mason.’

  ‘That’s right. The most likely scenario, based on what the scene was telling them, was that Ms Segal had either tripped and fallen or become ill whilst running – a heart attack perhaps – and was subsequently hit by a car, the driver having little chance of avoiding her as she was hidden from view. Two things struck them as odd: firstly, the age of the IP – she was relatively young, athletic build – fit looking, anyway; secondly, she was lying directly across the middle of the road, arms and legs outstretched, as if she’d lain down or been placed there carefully, the whole thing staged. It was an unnatural position if she’d merely fallen, an observation echoed by Joanna Brent, the driver of the Ford. Mr Mason raised the alarm following the post-mortem. In view of what he told me, I suggested we meet up at the scene. I had the road re-examined forensically – no easy task in torrential rain.’

  ‘Visibility was poor at the time of the accident?’ Stone wanted chapter and verse.

  ‘Very. It’s been chucking it down all afternoon. The weather not only hampered our efforts, it seems to have affected the two drivers involved at the time.’

  ‘Would that account for the lack of communication between them, in your opinion?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ McGovern said. ‘I’d like a quid for every time a flash of lights has led to, rather than prevented, an accident. The Audi driver, Trevor Taylor, saw the flashing of headlights but not the Ford driver’s frantic attempts to flag him down. Both were shaken up, the witness in Ford especially so. She saw the whole thing. Poor sod woke up this morning with no idea that this was the day her love of driving would come to an end. I very much doubt she’ll be getting in her car any time soon. She was so shaken by what she’d seen, one of my lads had to take her home.’

  ‘It must’ve been awful,’ Frankie said. ‘I cringe if I hit a rabbit or pheasant.’ She received a dark look from McGovern. ‘Shit, David I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—’

  ‘Relax, Frankie.’ Stone’s focus was McGovern. ‘Has Justine’s family been informed?’

  ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘French police are trying to trace them.’

  ‘I might be able to help in that regard,’ he said.

  The investigator looked at him oddly.

  ‘I was recently in touch with the recruitment agency she worked for. The kid she looks after went missing. He’s back now but we were covering the bases.’ He looked at Frankie. ‘Get on to them for a home address. We don’t want her parents finding out from the press.’

  ‘I’ll sort it,’ McGovern said. ‘Looks like you have enough on your plate.’ There was a split-second non-verbal exchange between the two women. No one liked giving the death message. Frankie was thanking McGovern for saving Stone the pain of having to do it himself.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Stone said.

  ‘Positive. And if there’s anything else my team can do to help, just yell.’

  The DI voiced his gratitude. ‘What about Justine’s employers, the Parkers? Have they been informed?’

  ‘Yes, I did it myself. They’re completely devastated. I believe their son Daniel is very close to the victim. He hasn’t been told yet,’ McGovern added. ‘I thought you should know.’

  ‘How was Justine identified?’ Frankie asked. ‘If she was wearing running gear, would she be carrying ID? I don’t when I’m running.’

  McGovern raised an eyebrow in astonishment, a humorous retort on the tip of her tongue she decided to keep to herself. ‘It didn’t take long for traffic to build up on either side of the bridge post-accident. A local girl had seen Justine earlier in the day and knew she worked at the big house along the road.’

  Stone thanked her for the information and turned to the pathologist, who’d been waiting patiently. ‘Mr Mason, could you give us your findings now.’

  ‘I’d be happy to.’ He glanced at the body briefly and then at the police officers. ‘I can tell you with absolute certainty that this young woman was healthy before today’s events. She had no disease of heart, lungs or liver that would have accelerated her death or caused her to collapse before she was hit by the vehicle, neither had she suffered any life-threatening episode: coronary thrombosis, stroke, heart attack.’ He returned Stone’s gaze. ‘I understand you knew her?’

  ‘Not personally,’ he said. ‘She was a witness in a recent case that may or may not be linked with this one. I interviewed her last week.’

  ‘Might that be a motive?’

  ‘Anything is possible.’

  ‘Well, despite severe haemorrhaging, this young woman survived beyond being struck. She may not have been fully conscious, but she was alive at the point of impact.’

  This was so difficult for Stone. For the second time in a week, he’d been forced to view the remains of someone he knew. He could feel the gaze of Frankie and Andrea like lasers on the side of his face. In Frankie’s case, she might present as a hard-nosed copper but it was all a front. She’d been watching over him all week, making sure he was off the drink and feeding himself properly. He simply didn’t know how he would have coped without her.

  ‘DI Stone?’ Mason waited. ‘I’m sure you have questions for me.’

  ‘Yes, sorry. You mentioned an injury to her head.’

  ‘It wasn’t evident during the prelim. The victim was on her back. The injury only became apparent when I did the post-mortem. Luckily, she was the only fatality and I was able to conduct the PM as soon as she arrived here. I should also tell you that Inspector McGovern and I found no item of the shape and size that might have been responsible for Ms Segal’s head injury, on or near the bridge.’

  ‘Any idea what kind of weapon was used?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘Hard to tell,’ Mason said. ‘Some sort of heavy tool, although the indentation isn’t one I’ve seen before.’

  ‘Are you able to suggest what may have happened?’

  ‘Guesswork is not my bag, as well you know, DS Oliver.’

  ‘OK, so you’re a scientist and I know better than to ask. Give us your observations based on your examination.’

  ‘I’m certain that Ms Segal was struck from behind with some force. There are scuffs to her hands and knees as you might expect if she’d fallen. Her Lycra running gear is torn, as if she’d been dragged across the tarmac on her back.’ He nodded to his assistant who showed them the clothing and turned Justine over. Mason thanked him and carried on. ‘As you can see, she has substantial scrapes and scratches to her back, buttocks and legs that correspond to the damage to her clothing.’

  ‘Might she have been caught by a car and dragged along?’ The question had come from Stone.

  Mason was shaking his head. ‘I’d expect these injuries to be more severe if that was the case.’

  ‘I agree.’ Andrea had seen more than her fair share of those types of accidents since she’d joined the Traffic department.

  ‘How would the offender know a car wouldn’t come from the south side?’ Stone asked.

  ‘Maybe they had local knowledge.’ All eyes were on Andrea. ‘Traffic at the time the incident occurred is notoriously bad from the north on a weekday as families drive to pick up their children from school. I was told repeatedly that drivers heading south avoid that stretch of road like the plague.’

  ‘So, to recap,’ Frankie’s eyes were on Mason. ‘You’re saying that someone whacked Justine over the head and then dragged her to the lea side of the bridge where the offender knew she’d be run over as an attempt to cover up the assault, knowing that she was likely to die as a result?’

  The pathologist’s nod drew an ominous line under the proceedings.

  31

  Having established that they were dealing with a murder, Stone and Oliver debriefed in the car on the way to base, the DI voicing his concerns over Justine Segal’s death. ‘I’m wondering if it could be connected t
o Daniel’s disappearance. Our money was on Tim Parker for the abduction that wasn’t, right? The missing messages . . . His evasiveness . . . Even you and Alex were coming around to the idea that his Twitter account may have been hacked, that he might have been the target of some cruel prank—’

  Frankie agreed. ‘There simply has to be a link.’

  ‘The question is, were we looking in entirely the wrong direction?’

  ‘You mean Justine was the victim all along and not the parents?’ Frankie met his gaze. ‘That’s a tantalising theory.’

  ‘And a worrying one. We know absolutely nothing about her beyond what she told me in interview – and that wasn’t much. She claimed she left London because she didn’t fancy Saudi. We only have her word for it—’

  She eyed him with interest. ‘You think her past is catching up with her?’

  ‘Maybe . . . relatively speaking, she’s new to Northumberland. I wouldn’t imagine she has that many friends, living with the Parkers as she did, although I gather she received a small allowance and time off occasionally. We need a full background profile. Speak to her girlfriends – and boyfriends too if she has any.’

  ‘Which brings us to Tim Parker,’ Frankie said. ‘I’ll bet you dinner that they were having an affair. If it were up to me, I’d send forensics in to examine Justine’s annex before the Chief’s new bestie gets rid of the evidence. Parker can’t object to that now, can he? If he did, it would make him look more than a bit suspicious.’

  ‘Put them on standby,’ Stone said. ‘I want to interview Parker first. I want to know if he’s ever been inside that annex since Justine moved in.’

  As Frankie made the call, Stone took a right-hand turn and headed for Scots Gap. It wouldn’t hurt to delay crime scene investigators while they interviewed Parker. Frankie was right: he’d be ill-advised to make a song and dance about examining the place now that his au pair had drawn her last breath.