Running through what she needed to do to get out, Sian began to listen carefully to the sound of the engine. Could she hear anything outside? She needed the car to be going slowly enough for her jump without risking terrible injuries. However, it would be best that she jumped when other vehicles were around. If they were on a deserted stretch of road and she jumped, they could get out and bundle her back in or just shoot her. If it was busy with traffic, they might decide to leave her and make their escape. That was her best hope of getting away.
The engine began to slow. She could hear the sound of cars passing in the other direction. They were coming to a junction. This was it!
As she felt the brakes move her forward, she braced herself.
For a moment, the car almost stopped. Then with a quick jolt, Sian was pushed back as they accelerated and turned right.
This was it. Now or never.
She felt the car begin to straighten. Reaching left for the lever, she manoeuvred two fingers behind it, ready to pull.
She shifted in her seat. She tensed the muscles in her thighs and calves.
And then clunk.
She pulled the lever, sprang against the opening door and rolled out onto the road below.
Falling over and over again, she was completely disorientated.
And then an incredible pain as the road tore through her shirt and at her skin. The wet of blood on her back. Her left hip felt like it had been hit with a hammer. Her knees repeatedly hit the tarmac and pain shot down her legs.
Gritting her teeth as she started to slow, she could hear the sound of cars braking from somewhere. Had Blake’s men stopped to get her or kill her? She couldn’t tell.
Something hit the base of her skull, which sucked the air out of her, and darkness enveloped her.
CHAPTER 33
As she marched down the hospital corridor, Ruth felt a mixture of emotions. Part relief that Sian had been found an hour ago by the roadside, alive. But Sian had been injured while trying to escape and had been admitted unconscious.
The corridor was stuffy and the air had an undertone of detergent, chemicals and hospital food. It was that time of day. The magnolia walls were scraped bare in places where trolleys and equipment had bumped them. Landscape pictures of Snowdonia were on the walls to try to lift the spirits of patients and visitors alike. As she pushed on through the double doors, large blue plastic signs and arrows showed the wards on either side.
Gazing up, she saw that the chapel of rest was on the left. It was only a few days since Merringer had been lying in there for his family to identify.
The sign for the critical care ward loomed into view, and Ruth took a right without breaking stride. The whole time, she had been avoiding the guilty thoughts that were nagging away at her. She had slept with Dan within a day of Sian moving her stuff out. She could come up with excuses for why she had done it, but it was a selfish, shameful thing to do.
Ruth also knew that Sian had accepted her with all her baggage. A daughter from a marriage was one thing. But the unsolved disappearance of Sarah – something Ruth promised she would try to move on from. Sian had trusted Ruth to attempt to build a life with her, to give it her best shot. But in truth, Ruth knew she hadn’t. She couldn’t let go of the memory of Sarah or the irrational hope that one day she would turn up alive. The two parts of her mind wrestled to and fro with hope and then rational pragmatism. It was bloody exhausting.
And now what? Sian was lying in a hospital bed with critical injuries. Why had it taken this for Ruth to realise how she actually felt about Sian? Why was she so immature and stupid? Ruth was sometimes so intuitive and wise when it came to giving others advice, but when it came to her own mind, most of the time she was miles off. She lacked perspective or the confidence that what she felt was correct and rational. Looking around at others in her life, she envied how they seemed to breeze through, making correct decision after decision. It was like they’d been handed some handbook, but no one had given her one, so she had to copy others until she got it right.
Coming back to reality as she entered the CCU, she pulled out her warrant card and looked at the nurse behind the nurse’s station. She was laughing loudly, and for a second Ruth thought how bloody inappropriate she was being. Then she checked herself. Police officers were the worst for black humour to get them through the horrors that they had to deal with on a daily basis. Don’t bloody judge the woman, you idiot!
‘DI Hunter, Llancastell CID. I’m looking for Sian Hockney?’ Ruth asked with her best smile.
‘Actually, they’ve just taken her down to the trauma assessment unit, but I think she might be okay to go onto a ward soon,’ the nurse explained.
It took Ruth a few seconds to realise that what the nurse was saying was that Sian was out of immediate danger.
‘That’s good news, isn’t it?’ Ruth asked, looking for reassurance that what she suspected was true.
‘Yes,’ the nurse said with a smile. ‘It’s on the ground floor.’
‘Thank you,’ Ruth said, feeling the tension begin to drain from her body.
As she got to the stairs, Nick was running up them full pelt.
‘It’s all right, Usain, they’ve moved her downstairs,’ Ruth said gesturing that he needed to turn around.
‘That’s good, right?’
‘Yeah. She’s not critical anymore,’ Ruth said as they got to the bottom of the stairs and opened the door to the hospital’s ground floor. ‘What happened with Hayley Collard?’
Nick gave her a look as they continued to stride towards the TAU. ‘She claims that she knows where Rosie Wright it.’
Ruth stopped in her tracks. ‘What? How is that possible?’
‘Hayley is implying that Rosie was trafficked out through Holyhead down to Dublin after she was abducted.’
Ruth rubbed her face as she tried to weigh up what she had just been told. ‘Did she tell you that?’
‘No. She wants to make a deal with us. I’m guessing she wants some kind of witness protection and to get a new life.’
‘Do you think she knows where Rosie is?’
Nick squinted for a second as he thought about it. ‘My instinct says no. I think she’s hedging her bets. The only thing she has in her favour is that she knows we’re desperate to find Rosie.’
‘You think we got the right people?’
Nick nodded. ‘Unfortunately, I think we did. I think Rosie’s body is somewhere out in the Irish Sea, and that’s a tragedy.’
Ruth pursed her lips as she looked at him. ‘I think we’re right too.’
They continued to walk and a moment later found themselves in the TAU. Ruth showed her warrant card again and explained that they wanted to see Sian.
A nurse took them over to a single room at the far end of the ward. As she opened the door, Ruth could see Sian propped up on pillows. Her eyes were closed. There was a drip into her nose and various monitors and drips attached.
‘You can stay for a bit, but she needs as much rest as she can get. She’s on very strong painkillers so she may just sleep for a while,’ the nurse explained.
Ruth’s attention was caught by a doctor arriving. He looked at Ruth.
‘How’s she doing?’ Ruth asked.
‘Are you relatives?’ the doctor asked in his cut-glass accent. Just once it would be nice for a doctor to open his mouth and have a thick Cockney or Brummie accent, Ruth thought.
‘I’m her partner,’ Ruth said in a way that showed the doctor that she didn’t mean in the Cagney and Lacey sense.
‘Couple of broken ribs. Concussion. Bruising. And I want to x-ray her neck where she struck the kerb.’ The doctor looked at Sian. ‘She’s lucky to be alive.’
THE ATMOSPHERE INSIDE the incident room was strange and quiet. Ruth knew that the case had been a roller-coaster ride, but it had left a dark atmosphere over CID. It would take them all a long time to get over Merringer’s death. It would also haunt some of them that Rosie Wright’s body would never be found. As
for Kathy and Gareth Wright? There would be many who thought they got what they deserved. However, Ruth thought that Rosie’s friends and family deserved to see them stand trial for her murder and get some kind of formal justice.
Nick came over with some sense of urgency and gestured to his computer. ‘Boss, I think we can forget any idea that Rosie Wright is in Dublin.’
Following Nick over to his computer, she looked at the CCTV footage. It was marked Holyhead Ferry Terminal.
‘There are nearly four thousand passengers travelling from Holyhead to Dublin a day. So, I looked through the passenger lists. Each family, couple or single passenger are recorded as a separate entry on the list. You know how many entries there were for two teenage girls travelling on their own?’
‘Surprise me,’ Ruth said.
‘Thirty-five. And I’ve looked at them all. No sign of Rosie Wright or her fake ID, Hannah O’Brien.’
‘So, Hayley Collard was lying to us?’ Ruth asked.
Nick nodded as he then brought up an image of two teenage girls on the screen and pointed to them. ‘These two girls travelled to Dublin together on the ferry the day before the fire at Bangor. They gave an address in Flint. I’ve checked with social services and the police in Flintshire. This is Caitlin Marsons and this is Tracey Stone. Both seventeen, both runaways from a care home in Rhyl and both with drug and soliciting convictions.’
‘The two girls who were being kept at Bangor?’
‘Yeah. My assumption is that Hayley Collard was doing whatever she could to keep out of prison and maybe start a new life,’ Nick explained. ‘If that meant lying and leading us to believe that she knew where Rosie Wright was, then so be it.’
‘And who would blame her? We’ve seen her file. Girls like Hayley don’t stand a chance from the time they’re conceived,’ Ruth said to no one in particular.
‘We got the right people for Rosie’s murder,’ Nick said. ‘That’s something.’
CHAPTER 34
Even though it was eight thirty in the evening, the setting sun was still bright and immense in the sky over the Gogarth cliffs. Friends and family of Rosie had gathered for a service of thanks and remembrance of her life. Ruth and Nick were there to represent the North Wales Police. Gazing down nervously from the cliffs, Ruth could see that the sea was uncharacteristically still as it stretched out before them. She squinted at the shimmering light, took her sunglasses from her hair and put them on. She looked at Nick beside her as he gazed up at the perfect clouds that were just beginning to tinge with oranges and pinks. Even the wind seemed to have calmed respectfully.
It was now two days after Kathy and Gareth Wright had been murdered and loose ends of the case were being tidied up. There was no longer a trial into Rosie Wright’s death, but there would still be a coroner’s report. Ruth also suspected that given the complicated nature of Rosie’s murder and the absence of her body, there would also be a coroner’s inquest. There were many precedents. In fact, there were one or two murder cases in the UK without a body every year.
From somewhere, ‘When the Party’s Over’ by Billie Eilish began to play as a poignant hymn to the scene. Ruth remembered that she was Rosie’s favourite singer.
As the clouds deepened in colour, Ruth couldn’t help but think of Sarah. How unfair it seemed that they had never been able to have anything like this for Sarah. How could they? As Emma Haddon and other girls tossed handfuls of purple and orange petals into the wind over the cliff edge, others let Chinese lanterns float up and away into the darkening sky. Ruth watched them swirl and dance in the currents of air.
The music, the sunset, the petals, the lanterns, the grief. It was too much for Ruth. Scrunching her toes for a moment, she could feel the pain sweeping through her. She took a breath and pushed her front teeth together, but it was no use. Her eyes welled as she brought the image of Sarah’s beautiful face into her mind’s eye.
The blue eyes that twinkled with such essence and life. Blonde, feathered hair that framed her face. Lips parted with an uneven smile. That thing she did when she looked to the side and then brought her eyes back with a mischievous glint.
The Billie Eilish song played on, ‘Let me let you go ...’
Ruth wiped away a tear and blinked behind her sunglasses. She felt a hand on her arm. Glancing right, she saw Nick giving her a smile of recognition. He knew what she was thinking about, and he understood.
CHAPTER 35
It was pouring with rain outside as Ruth came into her office. Her sleep had been restless, but the hospital had confirmed that Sian was stable but exhausted. The noise of the rain suddenly increased as the wind threw it against the panes – it was a summer storm. And then from somewhere in the distance, the faintest rumble of thunder.
Listening to the patter of water on the window, Ruth thought about Sian. Could they ever get back what they had only a couple of weeks ago? She would also have to live with the fact that she had slept with Dan, something she had already decided not to tell Sian. There was enough baggage between them and that could alienate her for ever.
Lost in thought, she walked along the line of CID officers who were deep in concentration. A noise from French’s computer caught her attention.
Pausing momentarily, she saw that French was watching Kara Haddon’s YouTube channel again. The video showed Emma Haddon doing some rehearsals in the main college hall. A caption came up at the bottom of the screen: My sister Emma in Grease rehearsals! ‘You’re the one that I want ...’
‘What are you up to, Dan?’ Ruth asked.
‘I’m just whizzing through these to make sure there’s nothing featuring Kathy or Gareth Wright,’ French explained.
Ruth gave him a knowing smile. ‘It’s almost as if you’re avoiding writing up all your notes and evidence, Dan,’ she said sardonically.
‘Me, boss? I wouldn’t do that,’ French replied, matching her sarcastic tone.
‘Well, don’t waste too much time, eh?’ she said as she turned to go. She didn’t blame him for coasting for a day or two. The investigation had been full on and the CID officers were knackered.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something. It was Rosie Wright sitting on a table watching her friend rehearsing. At first, it was a poignant reminder of the type of girl Rosie Wright had been. It was so sad to see her sitting there, watching on from a distance.
But then something else unsettled Ruth.
‘Can you pause that for a moment, Dan?’ she said. Something didn’t look quite right.
Ruth noticed that Rosie was sitting next to a young man. In fact, she was sitting far too close to the young man – they were virtually touching. He was bearded and looked to be in his twenties. Too old to be a student, but the only teacher that Ruth was aware of was Rosie’s form tutor, George Xavier.
Clocking Nick at his computer on the other side of incident room, she looked over at him.
‘Nick, you met George Xavier a couple of times, didn’t you?’ she asked.
‘Yes, boss.’
‘What’s he like?’ she asked.
‘Young, beard, good-looking. Wannabe hipster. If I was a teenage girl, then I would have a very big crush on him,’ Nick said and then frowned. ‘That came out wrong.’
‘Can you come and have a look at this?’ Ruth asked.
Wandering over, Nick looked at the screen. ‘Yeah, that’s him. And he’s looking very cosy with Rosie Wright.’
‘Dan, can you zoom in a bit on that for me?’ Ruth asked. She thought she had seen something else.
‘Yes, boss,’ French replied as he enlarged the video.
And there it was.
Nick frowned as he shared a look with Ruth. ‘They’re holding hands.’
‘We always thought Rosie Wright was gay, didn’t we?’ French asked.
‘Call me Sherlock Holmes, but I think there is something going on between her and her form tutor that’s distinctly not gay,’ Nick said.
Had they missed something? Whatever it was, a fif
teen-year-old holding hands with her adult form tutor didn’t sit comfortably with Ruth.
‘I think we should go and talk to George Xavier,’ Ruth said.
BY THE TIME THEY PULLED into the main car park at Llancastell Sixth Form College, the sun had blazed away the grey clouds. The temperature had risen quickly and it was noticeably hot as Ruth got out of the car. Nick took off his jacket and put it on the back seat of the car as he put on his sunglasses.
‘Seems very quiet?’ Ruth said, looking around the car park that was only a quarter full.
‘Maybe they’ve broken up for summer?’ Nick suggested.
They hurried to the entrance and main reception.
A woman in large glasses and bobbed blonde hair sat behind the reception desk that had a sliding glass window. Putting down the phone, she gave them a smile and slid the glass back.
‘Can I help?’ she asked in a sing-song voice.
Ruth and Nick flashed their warrant cards. ‘DI Hunter and DS Evans, Llancastell CID. We’re looking for George Xavier?’
‘We break up for the summer today so I’m pretty sure he’s already gone.’ She looked down at her computer and tapped to bring up the computerised signing in and out. ‘Yes. Mr Xavier left a couple of hours ago.’
At that moment, a woman entered the reception area and gave them an inquisitive frown. ‘Hi, I’m Mrs Beatie. I’m the headteacher here. Can I help with anything?’
Ruth showed her warrant card that was still in her hand. ‘We’re looking for George Xavier. But he left a few hours ago.’
‘Is this to do with Rosie?’ Mrs Beatie asked, lowering her voice.
‘It’s part of our investigation, that’s all,’ Nick explained.
‘George was Rosie’s form tutor, wasn’t he?’ Ruth asked.
‘Yes, that’s right. It’s been such a horrible few weeks for everyone,’ Mrs Beatie said as she began to look upset.
‘We wanted to ask George to clarify a few things for us,’ Ruth said.
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