‘Could you tell me where you were between six and nine on Monday evening?’ French asked.
‘I was here,’ Hancock explained.
‘Can anyone confirm that?’ French asked, looking down at his notepad and clicking his pen.
‘No, I’m afraid not. There was an opera on BBC Four and I stayed in to watch that,’ Hancock explained.
Watching opera? That was an alibi first.
‘Did you see anyone or speak to anyone on the phone?’ Sian said.
Hancock shook his head and gave a half-smile. ‘Not a soul. Obviously, it would be better for me if I had an alibi, but I just don’t.’
It’s not something to smile about, you prick. A teenage girl has gone missing, Sian thought to herself.
‘And if I talk to your neighbours, they’ll confirm what you told us?’ Sian asked.
‘I’ve no idea. One side are geriatric and keep themselves to themselves. The other side are homophobic and seem to think that they’re going to catch AIDS by making eye contact with me.’
‘Okay. Thank you,’ French said, putting away his pen and notebook.
‘You do know that I was convicted of possessing photos of boys, well, young men actually. I have no interest in teenage girls. It’s just not my thing,’ Hancock explained with a lack of emotion that Sian found chilling. The full details of Hancock’s conviction hadn’t come through yet, so this was new information, but it matched her deductions.
Sian got up to go. ‘We might need to talk to you again at some point, Mr Hancock.’
‘I’ll be here. All day, every day. I’ve been out of work for six months. Not much call for a psychotherapist with a conviction for possession of indecent images.’
Hancock seemed almost bitter about the fact that he couldn’t get work and showed no hint of remorse. His whole manner was a little creepy.
‘Where did you used to work?’ Sian asked.
‘Rhoswen Prison. Actually, I was a counsellor on the young offenders’ wing,’ Hancock explained.
Sian remembered that Kathy Wright was a prison officer at HMP Rhoswen. It might well be a coincidence, but she was going to ask.
‘So you knew Kathy Wright, Rosie’s mother, then?’ Sian said as she and French shared a look.
‘Not really. I tried not to interact with her, if I’m honest,’ Hancock said, his eyes widening at the mention of the name.
‘Why?’ Sian was now intrigued by his reaction.
‘People were scared of Kathy Wright. Nasty little woman. Even the top cons gave her a wide berth,’ Hancock explained.
FORTY-TWO HOURS
By the time Ruth and Nick had arrived at the Wrights’ home, a legion of photographers and other members of the national press had begun to camp out.
Vans with satellite dishes, journalists talking to cameras, and a whole battalion of telephoto zoom lenses all trained on the cottage. Ruth knew that Rosie’s disappearance was big news, but even she was surprised by the extent of the media coverage.
Jason Wright stood in the garden surrounded by about a dozen locals who were all armed with leaflets carrying Rosie’s photo. As Jason approached them, he gave Ruth a withering look and said, ‘I suppose I should give you one of these.’ He handed her one of the leaflets.
‘We are doing everything we can to find Rosie, Mr Wright,’ Ruth tried to make eye contact but Jason had already turned away. Did he just have a problem with the police or was he avoiding her for a darker reason?
‘We’ll look for her ourselves,’ Jason growled as he went back to the growing group of locals and dogs that were about to mount a second search of the area.
He projected the image of a terrified father searching for his daughter, but Ruth’s instinct told her that Jason Wright knew more than he was saying.
Ruth gazed down at the leaflet. It had been printed with a colour photo of Rosie and read:
Help us find Rosie Wright.
We are appealing for the public’s help in finding missing teenager Rosie Wright, aged sixteen years. Rosie went missing on Monday evening from the Capelulo area.
As they headed towards the front door, Ruth handed the leaflet to Nick.
‘I’m still not convinced about the father,’ Ruth said quietly.
‘Yeah, he seems to be avoiding us like the plague,’ Nick said.
The FLO, PC Laura Bennett, let them in and they came purposefully into the living room where Kathy was sitting, looking distraught.
‘She said you’ve found blood!’ Kathy exclaimed, pointing at PC Bennett with panic in her voice. ‘But no one will tell me anything,’
Ruth sat down opposite her. ‘Kathy, we have found some blood up by the yard ...’
‘But is it Rosie’s? Do you know if it’s my Rosie’s?’ Kathy garbled desperately. Her eyes darted around as she tried to process the news.
‘Yes. We have tested it and Forensics have confirmed it is your daughter’s blood,’ Ruth said gently.
‘Oh no ...’ Kathy sobbed as her hands shook. ‘Oh, please God ... no ...’
‘We are doing everything we can to find Rosie and get her back safely,’ Ruth explained gently.
Kathy wiped the tears from her face as she took a deep breath. ‘But ... someone’s hurt her. Someone’s hurt Rosie—’
‘It doesn’t change anything.’ Ruth said firmly. ‘And we’re doing everything we can to find her.’
Ruth’s frustration was growing. They were heading towards the forty-eight-hour mark and they had no viable leads. The extensive search of the farm and the surrounding area had given them nothing. The drag marks from the riverbank had proved inconclusive. It really did seem that Rosie Wright had vanished into thin air.
Knowing that three quarters of female murders were carried out by partners, family members or someone the victim knew, Ruth had to concentrate the investigation close to home. And that was difficult with everyone so raw with emotion.
‘Kathy, we would like you to do a press conference, if you think you’re up to it? It can be very powerful,’ Ruth said.
‘Yeah, of course. We’ll do anything you think will help,’ Kathy said, nodding as she dabbed her eyes and sniffed.
‘We would need Jason to be with you,’ Ruth explained to her.
‘He’s organised for locals to help the police to search again,’ Kathy said quietly.
At that moment, a young man came into the room. Gareth Wright was tall, skinny and wearing a grey tracksuit. He looked clean and smelt of aftershave.
When he saw Ruth and Nick, he stopped dead and eyed them suspiciously. He looked back at the door, clearly regretting having come in.
‘You must be Gareth? Is that right?’ Ruth asked, knowing full well who he was.
‘Come and have a seat next to your mum, please, Gareth?’ Nick said in a way that implied he had no choice.
Gareth glared at them. ‘What you talking to us for? Why aren’t you out there looking for Rosie?’
‘Please, Gareth. Just have a seat for a moment?’ Ruth said gently. ‘We know how difficult this must be for you.’
Gareth sat on the sofa next to his mum. She smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, as if he was still at primary school.
Mummy’s boy, Ruth thought instantly.
‘Can I get anyone a tea or coffee?’ Kathy asked.
Ruth was going to suggest that the FLO could do that but she was outside having a ciggie. Plus, it would allow them to talk to Gareth on his own.
‘Two teas. White. No sugar, please, Kathy. Ta,’ Ruth said with a kind smile. She wondered how long it would take Kathy to sort out the tea in her confused state.
There was an awkward moment once Kathy had left as Gareth fidgeted nervously, staring at the floor.
‘You must be very worried about your sister, Gareth?’ Ruth asked.
‘Yeah, of course,’ Gareth mumbled with a frown.
‘Can you think of anyone that would have wanted to harm Rosie?’ Nick asked.
‘No,’ Gareth respon
ded as if that was a ridiculous question.
‘Must be hard on your mum and dad too. They must be very upset?’ Ruth said.
Gareth didn’t respond and just nodded while continuing to look down.
‘Your mum and Rosie must be very close,’ Ruth asked.
Gareth grunted, ‘Yeah, they are.’
‘What about your dad? Did Rosie get on all right with your dad?’ Nick asked.
‘No. No one gets on with him.’ Gareth huffed and sat back on the sofa. ‘I’ll go and help Mum with the teas.’
Ruth gestured for him to stay seated and said, ‘I’m sure she’ll be fine. Why does no one get on with your dad?’
‘He’s never really here. He’s just ... I dunno ... moody,’ Gareth explained.
‘Does Rosie get on with your dad?’ Ruth asked.
‘No.’ Gareth was definite about that. ‘No way.’
‘Did they row?’ Nick asked.
‘Yeah. All the time. She said she couldn’t wait to go to college and move out. Then she would never have to see him again.’
‘I know you’ve already given us a statement, but where were you on Monday evening?’
‘Just out. Driving around with mates. We went to a pub out by Corwen for a bit,’ Gareth said. ‘Then I went back to my place.’
‘Do you know which pub?’
‘The Ship or something. I’m not sure.’
‘And the pub will confirm that you were there?’ Nick asked.
‘Yeah, course. Why you asking me all this? I didn’t have nothing to do with Rosie going missing, did I?’
‘Just one more thing, Gareth. I see you’ve had some dealings with the police in the past?’ Ruth said.
‘Just a bit of weed. Everyone does it round here.’
‘We found a bag of what looked like ecstasy tablets up at the barn. We think that Rosie and her friends planned to take them on Monday night. Do you know where they might have got them?’
‘Me? No, nothing to do with me. Pills are not my thing. Some of them are only fifteen! I wouldn’t be getting involved in that.’
At that moment, Kathy came back in with a tray of teas and some biscuits. She put them down on the table with a clatter. Ruth noticed that her hands were shaking a little. Must be the growing anxiety. She knew how that felt from when Ella had gone missing at Christmas. It was a living hell.
Ruth smiled over at Kathy and said, ‘I’d like to take a look at Rosie’s bedroom. It might give us some clues.’
Kathy nodded and pointed to the stairs. ‘It’s the bedroom straight over at the top of the stairs.’
‘Thank you,’ Ruth said as she and Nick got up and began to walk up the stairs. The wood creaked a little underfoot. Ruth looked at some holiday photographs that had been enlarged, framed and hung on the wall.
‘What do you think?’ Nick asked in a hushed voice, gesturing downstairs.
‘He’s a bit of a wanker but I don’t think he’s got anything to do with Rosie’s disappearance,’ Ruth whispered back.
‘I got the feeling he’s hiding something,’ Nick said as they put on their purple latex forensic gloves and went into Rosie’s bedroom.
Ruth nodded. ‘There’s something off about him. But I don’t know what he’s not telling us.’
Rosie’s bedroom was a little untidy, with clothes and schoolbooks strewn on the dark red rug by the bed. Some of the things were pink and girly and Ruth assumed still there from when Rosie was younger. The smell of deodorant and sweet perfume still lingered. Used mugs, bowls and empty cans of drink were lined up on her desk.
As Ruth glanced around for clues as to what had happened to Rosie, there was a stillness that was absolute. No sound, no breeze, nothing. An eerie feeling that this was a room that was now static and lifeless like a photograph. For some reason, Ruth felt a chill down her back, as if she instinctively knew that Rosie wasn’t ever coming back to this room. It was in these moments that the enormity of the job got to her. A victim’s room, frozen in time. Clothes that would never be worn, books never read, a bed never slept in again. Ruth’s world was full of tragic rooms like this.
Nick crossed the room to look at the scattered papers and books on her desk as Ruth continued to survey the room from the doorway. What had happened to Rosie? She had been attacked by someone at the farm. They had taken her from there, dead or alive. Nothing pointed to it being a random attack. So, who wanted to harm Rosie Wright? A row with a parent or sibling that got out of hand? Someone she had met online who had groomed her? Neighbours or a local who had watched her from a distance before making their move?
Moving across the carpet, Ruth went over to the pine wardrobe. She opened it and saw a couple of dresses, cardigans and coats hanging in a neat row.
Ruth’s eye was drawn to a long rainbow-coloured flag that had been stuck to the inside door of the wardrobe. Above that, a rainbow heart sticker that had the letters LGBT in the middle.
Nick came over and looked at what Ruth had found. ‘She’s gay?’
Ruth nodded. ‘Looks that way.’
She didn’t know if that had any bearing on why Rosie had disappeared, but if Rosie had been in any kind of relationship, it was likely they were looking for a girl rather than a boy.
CHAPTER 6
Forty-four hours
‘We just don’t have any solid leads,’ Ruth admitted as she and Drake marched along the corridor from his office.
‘Nothing? Anything from the press conference?’ Drake asked.
‘Lots of possible sightings, suspicious neighbours and the usual cranks. None of it is viable. And it’s wasting time,’ Ruth explained as they walked briskly around the corner.
‘That’s the risk we take with a press conference,’ Drake said.
‘We know she was taken from the farm, that she was injured or worse ...’ Ruth said. She could feel herself getting increasingly exasperated.
‘How was she taken?’ Drake asked.
‘We don’t know. There are vehicle tracks all over the road to the farm. We’re looking at the possibility that she was taken away along the river,’ Ruth said.
‘What about the parents?’
‘Mum, Kathy, is in bits. Not sure about the dad. I think he’s hiding something, but his alibi at the pub checks out,’ Ruth explained.
‘Problem is that whoever took her could be anywhere by now,’ Drake said darkly.
Ruth looked up to see the duty sergeant coming the other way. He was clearly looking for her.
‘Ma’am. An Emma Haddon and her father are downstairs. They want to talk to you so I put them in Interview Room One,’ the duty sergeant explained.
‘Thank you,’ Ruth said as she stopped at the stairwell to go downstairs.
Drake looked at her. ‘My instinct is that we focus on her life close to home. Family, friends, college. I really don’t think that Rosie Wright was snatched by a total stranger. And someone in her life knows something they’re not telling us.’
TEN MINUTES LATER, Ruth entered the interview room, where Emma and Steven Haddon were already sitting waiting for her. Emma glanced up as Ruth came over and immediately seemed worried. Her face was scrubbed of make-up. She looked very young and very tired.
‘Hi there. I understand you wanted a word?’ Ruth said as she sat down and gave them a benign smile across the table.
Emma, whose leg was jigging, looked up at her dad for guidance.
‘Emma has a couple of things that she needs to tell you about Rosie. She didn’t tell you last time because she had promised not to. But she knows this is very serious, so I told her to come and talk to you,’ Steven explained. ‘She would like to talk to you alone, if that’s okay?’
Ruth nodded. ‘If it’s an informal chat, that’s fine.’ Anything else would require an appropriate adult.
Steven went to the door and gave Emma a supportive nod before leaving.
Ruth gave Emma a kind smile across the table. ‘Emma, you don’t need to worry. But I do want you tell me anything you kno
w about Rosie and her life. Even if she asked you not to. We all want to find Rosie and get her back safely, don’t we?’
Emma nodded as she took a breath. ‘Yeah. Sorry ...’
‘You don’t need to be sorry, Emma. You’re Rosie’s friend. And good friends sometimes keep secrets. But this is different now, so you need to tell me everything. Is that okay?’
Emma looked up at her for a moment. ‘Rosie had met someone online that she was talking to. Hayley.’
Now we’re getting somewhere, Ruth thought. Instinctively, it felt important.
‘Do you know who she was, where she was from?’ Ruth asked.
Emma shook her head and said, ‘I think Rosie said Rhyl. Rosie really liked her.’
‘Rosie was gay, wasn’t she?’
Emma frowned. ‘How do you know that?’
‘So, was this a romantic thing?’
‘I think so. They were talking and they definitely liked each other,’ Emma explained.
‘Anything else? Surname, age?’
‘I think she was a couple of years older because she could drive. And Rosie said that she was going to come up to meet us at the farm on Monday,’ Emma explained.
Ruth’s ears pricked up.
That’s the first thing we’ve heard that sounds like a lead, she thought.
‘Hayley, the girl that Rosie had met online was going to come and meet you all on Monday night at the farm?’ Ruth repeated back to clarify. There was now a link between Rosie’s online ‘friend’ and Monday night.
‘Yeah, it was like this big surprise. Rosie was really excited. Except Hayley was meant to be there by seven, but she didn’t turn up. Rosie thought she had got lost because we were in the middle of nowhere. When Rosie went off, she was trying to phone Hayley to see where she was.’
‘And that was the last time you saw her?’
‘Yeah ...’ The reality of the thought appeared to hit Emma and she began to choke up.
‘And that was about eight o’clock?’ Ruth asked in a hushed voice.
The Devil's Cliff Killings Page 6