by Carla Kovach
O’Connor and Wyre watched as Gina relayed all that they’d found. ‘Here, guv.’ Jacob passed Gina a cup of coffee.
‘Thanks. What I can’t understand is the two different MO’s. The modus operandi for Melissa Sanderson was totally different to that of Ellie Redfern. Melissa – assaulted on the stairs, was then tied to a chair in her own kitchen, no sign of forced entry. She was then strangled with what we have confirmed to be blue washing line. Ellie appears to have been brought to a park, tied to a roundabout and set alight after being either killed or rendered unconscious. Both are totally different. We have found blue cord at the scene and on face value it looks to be the same as the blue cord found at the scene of Melissa’s murder. Who is shoe size five? We know from the markings on the grass and car park that the body had been dragged over one hundred meters. That’s not an easy task. Whoever did this had to be physically strong unless there were two of them.’
Gina took a marker pen and drew a shaky line on the large map of the park with her left hand, showing the route in which the body had been dragged. She then began adding the information that they’d received onto the board. She stepped back, just about able to read her spidery writing.
‘Shall I take over, guv?’
Gina nodded and passed the whiteboard marker to Wyre. She rolled her achy shoulder, feeling a grinding pain with every movement. Her painkillers were wearing off.
‘Thank you, yes. What do the two women have in common? Melissa was thirty-five, Ellie, forty-three. Melissa was a married, stay-at-home mum, with a two-year-old. We know she was having an affair with James Phipps. We need to investigate any links between Phipps, Melissa and Ellie. Ellie was an ex-alcoholic who was facing some element of her past which we don’t know about. It relates to a past assault. This past brought her back to Cleevesford and the Angel Arms. She worked in a coffee shop and was in a relationship with Becky. We haven’t had a formal identification as yet but let’s work on the information that we do have. A necklace matching the description of one that Ellie owns was found at the scene. The victim was wearing the same clothes that Ellie was known to be wearing when she disappeared. The only connection I can find, again, is the Angel Arms. Darrel Sanderson was drinking with Robert Dixon at the Angel on the night of Melissa’s murder. Ellie went back to the same pub to confront her past. What could Ellie’s past have to do with Melissa Sanderson? Maybe there’s a link somewhere, I just can’t see it.’
The other detectives looked as blank as Gina felt. She took a swig of coffee, trying hard to remove the acrid taste of burning flesh that lined the back of her throat. She imagined being at home and scrubbing away at her mouth and gums with her toothbrush until they were bleeding. Anything to get rid of the taste. As she blinked, the charred body flashed through her thoughts. Choking on her coffee, she grabbed a tissue and coughed hard, spluttering. ‘What is it we’re missing?’
O’Connor stopped chewing the end of his pen. ‘I’ve got Daniel Timmons coming in for his interview at ten this morning? He’s one of Darrel Sanderson’s and Robert Dixon’s friends. Phipps mentioned him and we managed to track him and the others down through Robert Dixon. Also Samuel Avery of the Angel Arms called today, said he had spoken to a couple of detectives and remembered some names. He confirmed that the group of friends we were asking about are fairly regular, sometimes visiting the pub in different pairs of the same friendship group and very occasionally attending as a group.’
‘I wished he’d just cooperated when we were there!’ Gina said.
‘I know. We have a Lee Munro and a Ben Woodward also coming in later. Avery mentioned another friend of Rob’s who had started coming to the pub, a Bruce Garrison. Maybe we should check him out too.’
‘Has the press appeal gone out yet? Someone must have seen something at the park, either a car or a person.’ Gina placed her empty coffee mug on the desk.
‘Yes. Just sent it out,’ Briggs replied as he entered.
‘Great. Someone had to see something. Let’s hope we get some good leads from the public.’
‘They want to put something on air this evening and have requested a formal press release.’
‘As SIO, I’ll deliver it. What time?’
‘Annie has arranged it for 5 p.m.’
‘I best pop home and change. Can you all keep me updated on the interviews? We need to speak to Darrel Sanderson, Robert Dixon and James Phipps too. I want to know where they were between two and four this morning. I’m going to give Bernard a call on site and find out how he and the team are getting on. I’ll do that while I’m getting ready. We also need to formally identify our victim. Jacob, will you contact Rebecca Greene and break the news? We need her to identify the necklace, the boots and the jeans. We will look at confirming the identification through Ellie’s dental records. I will attend to that as well as continue working on the evidence we have and the evidence that keeps coming in. We have a lot to be getting on with. As you find anything out, update me. I’ll do the same.’
Gina’s shoulder began to throb. Her phone rang. As she struggled to answer with her left hand, Briggs stepped in and pressed the answer button. ‘Here you go.’
She smiled and held it to her ear, pausing as the lab relayed their information. ‘Thanks for letting me know. Are you emailing the report over now?’
Everyone in the incident room waited for the update. ‘It’s the DNA results from the hair I pulled out of my attacker’s head. There’s a match.’
Fifty-Two
The incident room was instantly silenced by her words. ‘On Friday, the twentieth of February 1998, a woman was raped behind a shop in Camden. DNA was retrieved and it matches my attacker’s DNA. The file is on its way over. This person is not on our database and has never been caught.’ Gina gulped. The warmth of the sun shining through the window did nothing to disguise the tremble that was working its way through her body. ‘It was a violent attack, leaving the victim in critical care for almost two weeks. That’s all I have for now.’ She left the room, gasping for breath as she reached her office and slammed the door closed.
Her mind flashed back to her ex-husband Terry. The nights she’d cried, begging him to stop hurting her. The sounds of Hannah’s cries coming from her cot. Mia flashed through her mind. In her mind she was right there with Melissa as she died listening to her crying child, never knowing what happened after her demise. She wanted to hug the woman and tell her that her child was safe, but she’d never get that chance.
Trembling, she slid to the floor, leaning against the door. No one was coming in. Briggs knocked. ‘Gina.’ He pushed the door, sliding her along the floor as he entered. Sitting in front of her, he placed his arm around her and she nestled into his chest as she burst into tears. ‘I’m taking you home, now. I mean it. You’ve been through a traumatic time and I insist that you speak to a counsellor.’
‘I’m okay, sir. It was just a bit of a shock knowing how close—’ She stood and walked over to her computer. She needed to see the information they had on her attacker. She opened the email. ‘I’m going to find this bastard. I mean it.’ She slammed her left fist onto the desk, causing her keys to bounce. ‘Someone is going around killing women in our town. Someone attacked me and it’s all linked. I’ve been close to him, I’ve smelled him, touched his hair, felt his strength. I’ll know if we find him and I’m going to be the one to arrest him.’
‘But for now, I want you to go home, take some painkillers and book in for a counselling session. As your superior, it’s an order; once you’ve done those things, you can come back. No counselling booking, no press release. I will take over if you don’t comply.’
She knew his conditions were non-negotiable. ‘I’ll do everything you said and I am coming back. I’m going to deliver that press release and we’re going to find him.’
‘I’ll be back in ten minutes to drive you home.’
As he left her office, she stared at her computer as details of the historic rape case filled her screen. A pretty youn
g woman with dark eyes and hair stared back. She scrolled down, revealing the way that same woman looked following the attack. She barely recognised her under her bloody nose and swollen eyes. His victim, a nineteen-year-old Spanish exchange student called Lucia Ramos, had been at a friend’s apartment and had left to go home at around 1 a.m. She’d taken a short cut between two shops. It was at this point that she reported hearing footsteps catching up with her. She’d sped up but he’d soon caught up with her. He’d grabbed her from behind and slammed her face first into a wall, instantly breaking her nose, after which he raped her. Gina wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
She skipped the details and moved onto the evidence. They had his DNA. He hadn’t used a condom. They’d taken samples from all the surrounding streets and many people had been around that night. No one saw this man following Lucia. She gazed over the still photos taken from the CCTV and they were all unusable. She did note that the blurry figure walked with an upright stance. She watched the clip. He was wearing a hat and keeping his head down, never once looking up. Even if he had given them a glimpse of his face, the quality of the recording was so poor it wouldn’t have been useful.
‘Right. Home time.’ Briggs entered her office and jangled his car keys.
‘I’ll do as you say, book a date with the counsellor. I’ll have a rest, have some food, freshen up, then I’m coming back and I’m going up before the reporters. We need to let people know that there is a dangerous individual out there and to be on guard. This will be national by the end of the day.’ She turned her computer off and grabbed her coat.
Briggs intercepted her as she walked towards the door. ‘I’m with you all the way. Look, if you need to talk, anytime, I’m here as a friend and a colleague.’ He moved aside and followed her out.
For now, she needed an afternoon alone to prepare for the press release. She couldn’t talk to him – she wouldn’t ever.
Fifty-Three
Gina read all the gruesome details of Lucia Ramos’s attack several times before slamming down the laptop lid and turning the kettle on. The painkillers were beginning to take effect and that had allowed her to comb her hair and iron her jacket as best she could with one hand. She caught her reflection in the door. The gash didn’t look too alarming now she’d covered it with foundation and hidden the bruise on her forehead with a few strands of hair. Both would have journalists sensationalising the story if they looked too closely and spotted them. As the kettle boiled and began to steam up the window, her phone rang. ‘Wyre. What have you got for me?’
‘We’ve just interviewed Daniel Timmons. Thought I’d call and update you. I’ll update the system as soon as I get off the phone.’
‘Hit me with it.’
‘On Thursday the twelfth of April, and on the night of your attack, and in the early hours of this morning, he was at home with his wife, Alison. When questioned about his friendship with Robert Dixon and Darrel Sanderson, he claims to have known them most of his life. They grew up in Cleevesford. He has no prior record and has worked for the council in the revenues department since leaving school. He occasionally visits the Angel pub, often meeting up with Robert or Darrel, but hasn’t been for a couple of weeks. I checked all his information out. His wife’s story matches his version of events.’
‘What did she say?’
‘She claimed he was in all last night and never went out. They went to bed around ten, as they normally did. She said the same for the night of the twelfth.’
Gina poured the water into the coffee as she leaned sideways, wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder. ‘Did you manage to speak to Avery at the Angel again about Timmons?’
‘When I spoke to him, Samuel Avery confirmed that it had been a couple of weeks since Daniel had been into the pub. We verified this through Daniel’s Facebook records. He’d tagged himself at the pub on that night, and had also tagged Darrel in his post. Avery claimed they were laughing and drinking, and then they walked home. This was nothing unusual to him.’
‘And his workplace?’
‘We had no trouble obtaining information from them after we said we were investigating two murders. We confirmed his job with the council. He has indeed worked there since leaving school and is currently working at middle management level. They did have a couple of things to share on his record that may be of interest. He received a couple of official warnings for bringing his volatile home life to work. Staff had heard him arguing with his wife and it involved a bit of unsavoury name calling, mostly of a sexist nature. After the warnings, the behaviour stopped. There is one other thing I noticed, guv.’
‘What’s that?’
‘He is only about five foot five inches tall.’
‘Which means he couldn’t be my attacker. He’d be too short even with shoes on. We can’t discard the fact that there may be more than one person involved. Whoever dragged Ellie’s body had to be strong.’
‘He’s also quite portly and sounds out of shape. He was a little puffed out after walking to the interview rooms. He couldn’t wait to light up a cigarette after he left either. He’d have trouble carrying a bag of potatoes, let alone dragging a body over one hundred meters.’
‘Okay. Keep on with the interviews. I’ll be back in a bit for the press release. Having to attend to my clothes and hair with only one good hand is proving to be a little tricky.’
There was a pause on the line. ‘I really admire you, guv. With all that’s happened this week and you’re still going out there in front of the press. We’re right behind you. Oh, one last thing, the call that was made to your mobile. It was made in the Cleevesford area. That’s all we managed to get from the signal. There’s a mast on the edge of Cleevesford, just by the main island as you enter the town. The signal came from the west side of that mast. There are a lot of flats, houses and businesses within that area. You already know the number is unregistered.’
A lump formed in Gina’s throat as she ended the call. Her mind went back to the scared woman who made the call. She looked at her watch, only three hours to go until she had to perform.
Wyre’s words almost caused her to gag on her coffee. Would they all really be behind her if they knew her past? The look on Terry’s face as his hands windmilled down the stairs and the sound of his body thudding on the ground made her flinch. After all she’d been through at his evil hands, the feelings of guilt still never left. She’d often questioned herself. If she hadn’t left it so long before calling an ambulance, would he have lived?
‘Pull yourself together, Harte,’ she said as she grabbed her phone and called the counsellor to book her appointment.
Fifty-Four
Coughing, Natalie tried to sit up but was swiftly wrenched back by something tugging at her bare wrists and ankles. The pitch-black room was spinning. ‘Stop,’ she croaked as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, swallowing to try and lubricate her throat. She wrenched her wrist to try and shake off the binds, but they weren’t loosening. Where was she? She remembered the fire imps, chasing her. Was it real? It was real. She knew he’d convince her she’d imagined it because he always did. If it wasn’t real, why was she bound in darkness, unable to move? She opened her eyes again and managed to focus on the moon’s outline through the curtains. Then she saw the grainy outline of the chest of drawers and the door to the built-in wardrobe. She stared at the chair in the corner. There was more to the outline than just the chair.
Lamplight filled the room, almost binding her until her vision adjusted. ‘My darling wife. She who must obey.’
‘Untie me Bruce.’ Tears slid down the side of her face, wetting the pillow beneath.
‘You betrayed me. Everything I did, I did for you, for us. Now look what you’ve done. I’m not going to let you ruin Craig’s life. I’ve gone beyond caring about me, or you, but he will never know.’
‘You hurt her, didn’t you, you killed Melissa Sanderson?’ Natalie cried as she spoke. There had been no mention of the details surrounding Mel
issa’s death but she’d seen him using blue cord to strangle Ellie and she knew. She’d watched the news report before he disconnected the TV, and she’d overheard him speaking on the phone to Darrel Sanderson. He had been Bruce’s friend from the past. ‘You killed your friend’s wife. How could you?’
‘She deserved everything she got. Like you, she was a disloyal bitch who couldn’t be trusted. Like you, she was self-centred, lazy and unloving. Toxic is the word for a woman like her. All this time, I thought you were better.’ He pulled his office keys from his pocket, the original set with his bottle opener key ring attached, and he grinned as he dangled them in front of her. ‘You were so easy to fool. Poor little Natalie with her anxiety. Poor little Natalie forgets everything and can’t leave the house. You made it so easy which is why you’re lying in that bed and I’m sitting here, deciding your fate.’
‘Did you ever love me?’
‘You had to get pregnant, didn’t you? I know you lost the first one, but I was committed by then. Thought I’d persevere with what we had, settle for this! Don’t get me wrong, I love Craig but a sprog was never really on the cards. Enjoyed trapping me, didn’t you? I put up with you all these years for our son. I suppose the only pleasure you gave me was the game. I enjoyed that.’
She tensed up and yanked the binds, but they weren’t budging. ‘Let me go,’ she cried. She now realised what a monster her husband really was.