‘The crime scene investigators are on their way. I’ve only come down to identify her,’ Jennifer said, her voice sounding detached as she approached the body.
‘Fill your boots. The officers on scene were real bright sparks. They dragged her from the reeds onto the bank, then turned her over to make sure she was dead. As if they couldn’t tell by the smell, the twats.’
Shelly Easton lay splayed on the banks of the river, her hair clinging damply to her bloated face. Her open eyes were frozen in horror as her expression relayed the final tortured moments of her life. Jennifer covered her mouth and nose as the smell overcame her, making her stomach churn. The decomposition that had had a head start would no doubt baffle the crime scene investigators when the autopsy was underway. She backed away from the body as she tried to regain her composure. ‘Who’s the duty DI?’ she asked, dry washing her hands.
Mutley pulled a strip of chewing gum from a silver wrapper and bent it in half before popping it into his mouth. ‘Old frosty bollocks. I wish he’d bloody well hurry up.’ Jennifer took him to mean DI Anderson, so called for his cheerless disposition.
‘I’ll tell them you’re asking to be released. I’m sure it won’t be much longer.’
She turned to climb up the bank, giving one last glance at Shelly’s bloated body. Her premonition had been right, but relying on premonitions was like groping in the dark. By the time you tripped over what you wanted, the damage was already done. Her stomach churned as another shot of fear found its way into her heart. The killer had racked up four dead bodies for no other reason than that they matched Frank Foster’s counterparts. But with the copycat killings complete, where did it leave her? There was no doubt in her mind it was personal; but inviting Joshua into their cat and mouse game was a nightmarish twist. It wasn’t as if she could confide in anyone. Being in the police left her as vulnerable as she was useful. If she knew too much about the deaths she would get hauled in for questioning. People would start looking at her funny, as her ‘hunches’ attracted suspicion. By the time she got to the roadside she had made up her mind. She was no sitting duck. If the killer wanted her, she would face him head on.
DI Anderson stood at the roadside in his navy pinstripe suit, watching her ascend the bank. A tall dour man, his face wore a permanent expression of distaste, and he spoke as if he had just stepped on something nasty. Jennifer pulled off the plastic overshoes, now punctured with two muddy heel marks. Folding them over, she briefed him on the identity of the body.
He looked down the bridge of his long bony nose and clasped his hands behind his back. He was not known for his tactile nature. ‘Thank you, DC Knight. The crime scene investigators are setting up camp. A witness has come forward to say they saw a woman matching her description sitting on the bridge, staring into the water last night. Why they couldn’t have called it in as a concern for welfare at the time, I don’t know.’
‘Well sir, the last time I saw Shelly she was very ill, both mentally and physically. I called an ambulance to her flat, but she had gone AWOL by the time they arrived. I think SOCO, I mean CSI, should be informed that she appeared to be self-harming, also.’
DI Anderson sniffed. ‘Yes, well, it’ll all come out in the postmortem, I’m sure. Your name is on the scene log if they need to get in touch. Write up a statement covering the identification the body. Her next of kin will be notified of course.’
‘Yes sir, and I’ll let social services know when I get to the nick, her children were in care.’
Jennifer expected a buzz of excitement in the station when she got to work, but the atmosphere was flat. The officers in charge of Shelly’s death did not spend too much time at the scene before bagging up the body and sending it to the morgue. The night frost would have helped preserve any evidence that the water had not washed away. Suicide seemed the overall consensus, and given Shelly’s chaotic lifestyle and drug habit, it was not a difficult conclusion to reach. It was not a conclusion Jennifer agreed with, and as she sat at her desk, she put together all the reasons why she should approach DI Allison again with her theory. Frank Foster may have murdered more people. The interview tape mentioned another possible victim, the one Frank had been planning to kill before he was apprehended. The possibility of another victim was not mentioned in the media at the time, but it was another strong feeling that urged Jennifer to investigate further. Frank’s accomplice, Sam Beswick, had been clear in interview. Frank had intended to kill again. But without the case files she would not be able to find out who. She needed the DI’s approval before she could go rooting around in old investigations, particularly those involving her mother.
‘Sorry I’m late, I got caught up with the sudden death,’ she said, taking a seat behind her desk.
Steph tapped her police radio, neatly clipped to the belt buckle on her hip. ‘That’s OK, I heard the DI’s update, apparently you saved them a bit of time by identifying the body.’
Jennifer paused, her fears and suspicions on the tip of her tongue. She painted a concerned smile across her face. ‘Yes, I thought it might be her. Any jobs in today?’
‘No, it’s all Q here so far. Even custody is empty. Will’s doing some enquiries around CCTV. Can you take over and let him get on with his paperwork? I’ve told him he has to have it done by today, so don’t let anyone disturb him.’
Q was code for ‘quiet’ and every officer knew if they dared say that things were ‘quiet’ their fellow officers would loudly shush them, and make them deal with anything horrible that came in as a result. A silly tradition, but all part of working in the police family that Jennifer enjoyed being part of.
Will smiled in appreciation as she placed a coffee on his desk. ‘So poor old Shelly is dead then.’
Jennifer recounted her morning to Will, waiting for him to say it was to be expected.
‘I know they’re saying it’s suicide, but there’s something about this that doesn’t add up.’
Jennifer raised her eyebrows, ‘Will, I’m glad to hear you say that because I’ve been thinking the same thing. Have you found anything on it?’
Will pointed to the live incident on the computer. ‘I’ve been monitoring it on the box. A witness saw a woman matching Shelly’s description sitting on the bridge looking into the water at three this morning. They were dropping a friend home after a party and crossed the bridge fifteen minutes later and she was gone. She wasn’t anywhere on the road to be seen. They didn’t report it until they saw the police cars at the bridge this morning.’ Will shook his head in disbelief. ‘I reckon they’d been drink driving and didn’t want to get done. Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. The thing is, I’ve been talking to my mate in scenes of crime and she said that if Shelly jumped off the centre of the bridge last night the body would have been swept away further than it was. Granted, there was a heavy frost but she was found not far from where she is likely to have jumped in. The people that found her said she was face down, clutching handfuls of reeds, as if she was trying to pull herself out when she died. Why would she jump into the river then try to pull herself out again?’
Jennifer felt a weight lift as Will dissected the circumstances surrounding Shelly’s death.
‘And there’s something else. I’ve been asked to study the CCTV for that area.’
‘I didn’t know there was CCTV over the bridge.’
‘There isn’t. Not really. But there is CCTV covering some of the route Shelly would have taken from the town to get from her flat down to the bridge. It’s pretty crap though, I can’t make out the figures very well.’ Will clicked on the software to open up the download the council had sent him.
‘Figures? As in two people?’ Jennifer said, leaning forward for a better view.
‘Don’t get too excited, realistically they could be anyone. But I think it’s Shelly. Watch.’
Jennifer noted the time on the CCTV. It was two twenty, forty minutes before the witness stated that they had seen Shelly on the bridge. It would have easily given he
r enough time to walk down there. Will clicked ‘play’ and she held her breath as she waited for the figures to come into view. The hazy black and white image was partially obscured by a cobweb and gave little to reveal the identity of the two people with their backs facing the camera.
‘This is shite, you can’t make anything out. It’s just two grey blobs.’
Will clicked the ‘pause’ button. ‘I said it was bad. The light was out on that street last night. It’s typical really, the only night of the year the bulb blows, is the night we need the CCTV. But look at the way they’re walking. The one on the left has their head bowed so low they can’t see where they’re going, while the person beside them is bolt upright. Doesn’t it seem odd to you?’
Will pressed the ‘play’ button. The figure on the left wore a sleeveless top and was smaller than the person beside them, who was dressed entirely in black. Both kept walking until they turned the corner out of view.
Jennifer scowled, disappointed. ‘Maybe they’re just two drunks.’
Will rewound the tape and pointed to the screen. ‘Watch. Drunks sway, or cling on to each other. These two are walking an exact straight line. I’ve asked the local businesses but there’s no other CCTV on that stretch of road. I’ve viewed the next couple of hours on fast forward, but there’s no sign of anyone coming back. Pity really, because then they would have been facing the camera. I’ve updated the DI but he’s not very impressed with it. As he said, even if we could prove it was Shelly, she knew lots of people, so she may have been out with someone and parted ways before she jumped off the bridge of her own accord.’
Jennifer frowned. It took an awful lot to impress their DI these days. ‘Don’t you think it’s strange Will? Nothing much happens in Haven, then all of a sudden we have several deaths in a short space of time. Charlie Taylor, Johnny, and now Shelly. What if someone is targeting these people and making it look like suicide so they can get away with it? It’s very similar to a case my mum dealt with when she was in the police.’
Will reached for the spot where his wedding ring used to be on his left hand. Turning the band was a habit he had conquered long ago, but today his thoughts were far away.
‘If you’ve anything on this case you should try again with the DI. Don’t bother with Anderson, he thinks his shit’s custard, and he won’t listen to the likes of us. DI Allison’s in tomorrow. He might be in a better mood then.’
Jennifer did not share Will’s optimism. Her DI had knocked her back once already, and she would need more evidence than a blurry CCTV image to convince him otherwise. Firm evidence was needed to find the identity of the killer before he struck again, and if the job wouldn’t help her, she would have to find it herself.
Jennifer decided to risk another visit to check on Joshua. Amy seemed glad of the respite from her energetic four-year-old, and banished them both to the tree house in the garden. Joshua’s bobble hat bounced as he ran up and down the steps, fighting imaginary dragons to save his fair damsel Princess Jennifer.
She pulled her coat tight as she sat in the cramped wooden box, waiting to reward her prince with chocolate. Joshua had not mentioned anything of concern, and she was happy to leave it at that. She looked through the makeshift window to the small enclosed garden. It was far removed from the treehouse she had frequented after her aunt Laura took her and Amy in.
Joshua broke into her thoughts as he clambered up the steps. ‘I killed the dragon,’ he said with a sniff, his cheeks nipped red from the cold.
‘Well, you are the bravest prince I’ve ever met.’ Jennifer said, taking a tissue from her pocket and wiping his nose. ‘Here you go, fair prince, and I have for you a reward.’ She produced a small bag of white buttons from her pocket. ‘Kiss first,’ she said, before handing them over.
Joshua kissed her on the cheek before wrapping his gloved hands around her neck. ‘You’re the best auntie in the world. I love you to the moon and back.’
Jennifer closed her eyes as she hugged him back. ‘And I love you more than life itself.’
The figure in the bushes smiled. Soon Jennifer would be given the opportunity to prove the sincerity behind her words. Hollow eyes watched as she returned inside, hand in hand with her precious child. He had them exactly where he wanted them. Soon the bonds of blood would be tested.
30 Chapter Thirty
A fundraiser party was the last thing she wanted to attend, but tonight Jennifer had her reasons. Investigations into Shelly’s death had drawn a blank, but she had not forgotten the strange phone call in the car from Shelly, and the silent calls that plagued her throughout. Jennifer was very cagey about who she gave her number to. Apart from her colleagues and immediate family members, nobody else could have known it. Joan’s prediction had warned her of someone close betraying her. Was the supernatural entity receiving help from human hands? She had begun looking at her colleagues with suspicion, and a couple of hours at the party would be the perfect backdrop for checking their mobile phones.
She wondered if Ethan would be making an appearance. Their time together had been short-lived because he had been pulled back to Westlea. At least DI Allison was not attending the party. It would be easier to blend in without him keeping tabs on her all night. Jennifer knocked back a glass of wine to settle her nerves.
She gave her hair one last blast of hairspray and stared at the backless dress in the full-length mirror. She may not have been blessed with Susie’s curves, but she looked as if she had been poured into the red silk material. The party dress code was ‘glamorous', and she was looking forward to seeing Will in the tuxedo he had promised to wear. It was a big improvement on the fancy dress theme from last year, when most people had saved on a costume and come dressed as police officers.
The taxi beeped outside, and her heart gave a flutter as she fixed her strappy red shoes. After all she had been through, getting nervous about going to a party seemed stupid. No doubt everyone else would be well oiled by the time she turned up. Having the party in the upstairs bar of the station was a cheap option, and the savings on the venue allowed the booze to flow. She made her way down to the taxi, wondering if drinking wine on an empty stomach was such a good idea after all.
Jumping out of the cab at the back of the station, she paid the driver. She shivered, wishing she had worn a coat, as she attracted wolf whistles from the officers queuing for custody. A suitable hand gesture silenced the catcalls and she entered the building. The music throbbed a beat from upstairs. For one night the prisoner's shouts and moans were drowned out, and custody officers would be treated with the echoes of eighties music instead of the usual backdrop of colourful language.
The police bar was heaving, and smartly dressed bodies were dappled with colourful lights, flashing in time with the music. Disco Dave was at the helm, and already half cut by the look of him. The blare of the seventies music seemed incongruous with the glamorous dress code, which was rapidly deteriorating as off duty officers removed their ties to wrap around their sweat-stained foreheads to dance to ‘Kung Fu Fighting’. Jennifer rested her elbows on the sticky bar and raised her voice to order a vodka and coke. She craned her neck as she looked around the room. It was ten past nine and there was no sign of Will anywhere.
‘Hey girl, fancy a dance?’
The smell of stale beer breath made Jennifer wrinkle her nose. She spun around to see Greavsy, her custody sergeant, grinning stupidly at her. His green kipper tie swung around his neck as he gyrated.
‘Thanks Sarge, but I need a few drinks down me first. Can I borrow your phone? I've lost mine, I just want to ring it.’
Greavsy slid the phone from his back pocket, too drunk to realise that she would not have heard it over the music. Checking call histories was not foolproof as the records could be deleted, but at that moment it was all she had.
She handed back his phone and he made his way to the dance floor with his dripping pint, swinging his hips in tune to the music.
For the next hour Jennifer worked her w
ay through the crowd, checking phones laying on the bar and coming up with excuses to borrow them, each time drawing a blank. At ten o’clock she rang Will on her mobile, raising her voice over the music. ‘Where are you? You’re missing the party.’
‘Mum’s had a fall and she’s been taken to hospital. I’m making my way over there now.’
‘Oh God, I’m sorry, is it serious?’
‘No, I think it’s more of a precaution than anything else. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?’
Jennifer’s arm was suddenly yanked and she was pulled onto the dance floor as an odour of sickly sweet perfume wafted over her.
It was Susie. She bounced as she danced, to the delight of many, as her tight black basque left nothing to the imagination. Her bright pink lipstick was slightly smudged, having pressed against several cheeks already.
To hell with it, Jennifer thought as she followed her lead, immersing herself in the music while the room grew warm and condensation steamed the windows. She danced until her feet ached, then limped back to the bar to see Ethan ordering a drink. Sidling up to him, she ordered a vodka and coke. They chatted for a while, Jennifer's inhibitions lowering with each drink she consumed. All thoughts of checking phones and suspect killers were replaced by a drunken haze as the alcohol made its way through her bloodstream. She eyed Ethan appreciatively in his sharp black suit. He had since discarded his tie, and undone the top two buttons of his white shirt.
As the end of the night closed in, Coldplay’s ‘Magic’ seduced their senses and they wavered onto the dance floor, mottled in a series of lazy blue and gold circles cast by the lights.
‘Sometimes I wish I could take a night off from being myself, have some fun,’ Jennifer said, shuddering as Ethan slid his hand down her bare back.
Ethan nestled closer to her ear. ‘Want to come back to mine?’
Don't Turn Around: A dark, thrilling, page-turner of a crime novel (Detective Jennifer Knight Crime Thriller Series Book 1) Page 22