Cry From The Grave A Thrilling Psychological Crime Mystery (Harry Briscombe Book 1)

by Carolyn Mahony

  ‘Sad news for Hannah Walker, I agree. It’s not as if there’s a long list of missing babies to pick from.’

  ‘Right. Well, first things first. Contact Hannah Walker and ask her if she can come down and give us a DNA sample, and while you’re at it, do the same with the Campbells. Tell them we need to eliminate them from the enquiry if they’re huffy about it. Did you get the address of the people that lived there before them?’

  ‘Not yet, but we’re working–’

  ‘Well crack on with it,’ Murray interrupted impatiently. ‘We need as much information as we can get on who’s lived there over the last ten years or so. Odds are it’ll be the Walker baby, but we should also check the database and cross-reference for any other infants that may have gone missing in the area. Put Peterson onto that will you?’

  ‘I already have. Erm … anything else you particularly want me to follow up today?’

  Murray raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you being facetious, Harry, or have you got plans?’

  ‘Wouldn’t dare be facetious, sir,’ Harry grinned. ‘But I thought I might try and track down Hannah Walker’s ex and see what he’s got to say for himself.’

  ‘Good idea. And while you’re doing that, I’ll go see some of her neighbours. See if any of them were there six years ago when the child went missing. I’ve been reading through the file and there’s bugger-all that’s useful. Hedges seemed convinced it was one of the parents. He may be right of course, but you can’t help feeling that someone must have seen something.’

  Outside Hannah Walker’s flat, Murray pressed on the bell that said, Applemore - 1st floor.

  ‘I don’t think I can be of much help,’ the tall blond woman who answered the door said, shooing her toddler ahead of them as she led Murray into the lounge. ‘I told the police everything I knew back then, and it wasn’t much. We’d been here about six months when he moved in. And then she joined him several months later. When she found out she was pregnant, I reckon.’

  ‘How long had they been going out, do you know?’

  Murray was busy scribbling notes as he fired the question and she watched him with interest, answering, ‘A year or so I think. They told us they’d met at university when she was in her first year and he was doing his finals. Then he got a job in the City, which was when he moved in downstairs. She used to visit him at weekends and then she moved in.’

  ‘And the day the baby went missing? You were at work I believe?’

  ‘Yes. I’m a radiographer and it was before I had my little girl. I was working full time back then. My husband and I only heard about it when we got back. The place was swarming with your lot and she was in a terrible state. It was awful.’

  ‘And nothing unusual had happened at any point previously that might have drawn your attention, or made you suspicious in any way?’

  ‘No.’ The woman hesitated, and Murray waited. ‘At least, only what I mentioned to the last inspector who was handling the case.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘That they didn’t seem to be getting on too well, both before and after the baby came along. We had to bang on the floor several times to get them to quieten down. It was mostly him and we reckoned maybe he drank more than was good for him.’

  ‘Are you saying he was violent?’

  ‘I don’t know that he was violent as such. All I do know is that it wasn’t very nice having to listen to it, and I did worry about her being pregnant and everything. Things got worse after the child went missing – it was a blessed relief when he moved out not long after.’

  ‘Did you ever talk to her about what you heard?’

  ‘No way. I didn’t know her well enough. Still don’t. She keeps herself very much to herself.’

  Murray stood to go. ‘Thanks for your time, Mrs Applemore.’

  ‘Do you think it could be her baby?’

  ‘We don’t know yet. It’s a possibility.’

  ‘Poor woman. I keep thinking maybe I should go down and say something to her but it’s difficult, isn’t it? You wouldn’t wish what she must be going through on anyone. But as I say, she doesn’t exactly encourage friendship.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Hannah walked along the deserted strip of beach and even though the wind blew bitterly cold in her face, she felt at peace for the first time in four days. She loved this stretch of the Suffolk coastline; felt an affinity with it. Slowly but steadily it was being eroded, just as she felt bits of her had been eroded over the last few years. Not visible from the outside maybe, but deep within the thinking, bleeding heart of her.

  She hunched into her jacket as she looked out at the cold grey sea. It was rough today, a swirling mass of choppy white horses that rode the crest of the waves until they landed with a noisy crash on the shoreline. She imagined walking into the icy cold water, feeling it seep slowly through her clothes numbing her body, numbing her pain, until she simply disappeared beneath the surface. But it wasn’t an option she ever allowed herself to contemplate. Even in her darkest moments, when it had seemed to offer a blessed route of escape, she hadn’t seriously considered it. What if they found Sophie alive? What use would she be to her daughter then? But now it didn't seem likely they would find her alive, and the raw pain was devouring her.

  Her feet crunched on the shingle as she walked. A sample of her DNA, the sergeant had said when he’d phoned her that morning. Could she come down to the station?

  It didn’t take much working out to realise they obviously suspected the remains they’d found were Sophie’s.

  The cold wind stung her eyes. She drew one last breath of the biting air, feeling it whip sharply down her windpipe, before turning back in the direction of her car. There was a new sense of purpose in her eye.

  She was tougher now than she’d been before. And this time she’d keep up to speed with everything that was going on. Make a nuisance of herself if necessary. Do every damn thing she needed to make sure that if it was Sophie they’d found, then her abductor would be brought to justice.

  She was due back at work tomorrow after three days off, and though she’d been grateful for that time to herself, she was glad that she’d have something to keep her mind occupied. But first there was something she needed to do…

  It was raining hard by the time she got there. Pulling the collar of her jacket tighter around her neck, she cast a quick look about her before climbing slowly out of the car.

  It hadn’t been difficult finding it, she’d simply punched the name of the village into her Satnav and let it do the work, and once she’d arrived, she couldn’t miss the collection of police and media cars outside the attractive barn conversion down the quiet country lane. Her steps quickened as she walked towards the house, oblivious to the punishing downpour that was soaking her hair and clothes.

  A small crowd stood a short distance away, umbrellas raised and talking amongst themselves. Vultures, she thought contemptuously, hanging around for any bits of gossip they could take back to the supper table.

  For a long moment, she stared at the house in front of her, logging every detail to her memory. It was modern with large windows and would be light and airy inside, she could tell. The sort of house she used to imagine she might live in one day, and probably would have done if she and Ben had stayed together. Was it possible her beautiful daughter could have ended her days here? Or were these people like her, innocent victims of another person’s immorality?

  ‘Sorry Miss, no-one beyond this point,’ a young policeman informed her officiously, stepping forward to halt her progress.

  ‘I need to speak to someone. I need to see where she was found.’

  ‘We’ll be issuing another statement in due course. You’ll have to wait for that like everyone else I’m afraid. Now please go back to the road.’

  Hannah’s determination grew. It had to be Sophie, didn’t it? No other babies had gone missing in the area. She had a right to see where they’d found her.

  ‘DCI Murray...’ she said abruptly. ‘I
s he here? He’ll speak to me I know.’

  The man shook his head but she could see that the mention of the inspector’s name had caught his attention, his dogmatic air of assurance wavering.

  ‘Look, I must speak to someone. You don’t understand. My name’s Hannah Walker. It’s possible it was my daughter they found here. I need to see where…’

  She tried to choke back the emotion but now that she was here, possibly about to see where Sophie had been buried, it was fast getting the better of her. And it was certainly more than the constable could deal with.

  ‘Wait here,’ he said after a moment’s hesitation.

  He turned away from her, calling someone to take his place as he disappeared up the side of the house. A few minutes later he was back.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Walker. DCI Murray isn’t here at the moment and I’m afraid we really can’t take you through to where the remains were found at this stage.’ His expression softened. ‘But if you give me your details I’ll pass them on and I’m sure DCI Murray will get back to you as soon as he can. There’s no point you waiting around here getting soaked.’

  ‘But I need…’

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss.’ His tone was final and Hannah gave up, watching as he carefully wrote down her details.

  She walked slowly away, ramming a fist into her mouth to check the sobs that were choking her throat.

  ‘Miss Walker! Miss Walker, isn’t it?’

  A camera flashed, catching her tortured expression perfectly.

  ‘Have they confirmed yet that it’s your daughter? Have you got any comments to make?’

  Covering her face with her hands she pushed past the man and ran back to her car, driving off as quickly as she could before anyone else stopped her.

  But she’d be back. Later, when it was quiet and everyone had gone.

  ***

  Upstairs from the landing window, Natasha Campbell couldn’t help but be moved by the anguish she saw reflected in the other woman’s face – even while she felt intimidated somehow by her proximity. Was that her? The mother? Why else would all the press suddenly be swarming towards her? A shiver ran through her as she watched the woman make a dash for her car and drive swiftly away. It was horrible enough having faceless, nameless people tramping over her beloved garden, turning it from the beautiful haven it had once been into the sordid scene of a crime it had now become – without having the threat of a demented woman to contend with. And now she knew where they lived. What if she started hounding them?

  ‘The police constable confirmed it was her,’ Natasha said to Adam later that evening when he got in from work. ‘You have to do something. She could turn up on our doorstep at any time and what would we say to her? How would we handle it? I think you should contact that Inspector Murray and tell him we want some protection.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Natasha. What from? She’s hardly likely to attack us.’

  ‘You didn’t see her, Adam. She looked desperate. And she doesn’t know that it wasn’t us who harmed her baby, does she? Or what if it was her and her partner, and they take it out on us because we’re the ones who found her? You’re not here half the time. If you won’t help me, then I’ll call the police myself. It can’t be right that she’s just free to wander up to our house like that whenever she wants...’

  ‘All right ... all right.’ Adam threw his keys down on the table, his voice harassed. ‘I’ll call the inspector in a little while. Just let me have a shower first, will you?’

  Natasha grabbed the phone and thrust it into his hands. ‘Do it now, or he’ll have gone home’

  ‘I’ll send my sergeant around to have a word with your wife tomorrow,’ Murray told him a few minutes later. ‘I’m quite sure she has nothing to fear from Miss Walker. I’m going to see her myself in the morning. I’ll speak to her and make sure she knows not to contact you in any way.’

  ‘Thank you. I hope you don’t mind me calling, but Natasha was upset by her visit, and as I explained to your sergeant when he was here, things aren’t straight forward with my wife’s health at the moment. Anything you can do to make the situation a little easier?’

  ‘Do you mind me asking what your wife’s health problems are, Mr. Campbell?’

  Adam hesitated, his eyes fixing on Natasha. ‘It’s complicated,’ he said, choosing his words with care. ‘She’s had some issues with depression and is under the psychiatrist. She’s on medication now which is helping, but all this stuff is unsettling for us both.’

  ‘I can understand that. Thanks for explaining it to me. It does help if we know people’s backgrounds.’

  ‘So?’ Natasha’s voice was abrupt as he put the phone down.

  ‘He’s going to speak to her in the morning and make sure she doesn’t come anywhere near us. And he’s sending his sergeant over to have a word with you tomorrow, to reassure you.’

  ‘You think I’m being ridiculous don’t you ... paranoid?’

  ‘Of course I don’t, but I’m sure you have nothing to fear from the woman. She’s just grieving like any mother would.’

  ‘Well, it’s not right that she comes around to our house and upsets us. It’s bad enough that we found those remains without her making us feel worse. I don’t want to get ill again, Adam. I saw Amanda today and she said that it’s important for me not to get worked up over all this.’

  ‘And haven’t I been saying exactly the same?’

  ‘But you’re not my therapist. In fact, according to her, you’re part of my problem. She said it doesn’t solve anything you moving into another bedroom. You need to accept me as I am and both of us work on it from there. I could see she was annoyed that you didn’t come today like she asked.’

  ‘You know why that was. Jeanette’s got flu and I had to cover two clinics.’

  ‘I’m sure you could have sorted something if you’d wanted to.’

  ‘Natasha, I couldn’t.’

  ‘Well, she wants a session with you on your own now. That’s if you think you can find the time to fit her in? I think it’s the least you can do, seeing as you’re the one who sent me to her in the first place.’

  ‘It was Dr. Graffe recommended her if you remember? Not me. Anyway, I thought you said she was good?’

  Natasha shrugged. ‘She’s all right. I’m just sick of everyone treating me like I’m some sort of moron.’

  ‘Tash, nobody’s treating you like a moron.’

  He broke off as Katie wandered into the room in her pyjamas. ‘I’m ready now, Mummy. Can I watch television?’

  ‘Have you tidied your room and brushed your teeth?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Show me.’

  The little girl opened her mouth.

  ‘You haven’t done a very good job on the top teeth. Go and do them again before you watch any television.’

  ‘Ohh…’ Katie’s face fell and she looked like she was about to cry.

  ‘Come on, Angel,’ Adam said, swooping her up into his arms and tickling her. ‘Show me how clever you are now that you can brush your teeth all by yourself.’

  She started to squeal with delight. ‘Will you read me my story tonight, Daddy? I want the one about the witch.’

  ‘I might manage that.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’ Natasha’s voice was sharp and Adam looked at her in surprise.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Undermine my authority. She has to learn to do these things properly.’

  ‘And she will.’ Adam spoke with more patience than he was feeling. ‘But she’s still young. Now why don’t you relax in here for a bit while I have my shower and read her story? I know it’s unsettling for you on the days you see Amanda. I’ll serve up dinner when I come back down.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hannah switched her phone to silent and shoved her hands deep into the warm lining of her jacket pocket. It was cold in the car without the heater on, and night was drawing in, but she didn’t want to draw attention to herself by leaving the engine running
.

  Ahead of her, camped outside the Campbell’s front gate, a couple of photographers were packing their gear into a car, obviously heading home for the night. She waited until they’d driven off before getting out of the car and making her way cautiously towards the house. Through the windows she could see a shadowy figure moving from one room into what she guessed would be the hall. She waited for it to disappear before heading, heart pumping, for the archway at the side of the house. An owl hooted and she jumped, clutching her torch tighter as she made her way quietly around to the back.

  The area was mostly grass with large bushy shrubs bordering the edges that afforded her some degree of cover. Something scuttled in the undergrowth making her veer to the left. Instantly the security lights came on. Shit. Ducking quickly into the nearest bush, she looked back towards the house. She didn’t dare think what might happen if she were to get caught. The papers would make a field day of that one.

  No one appeared, and after a couple of minutes she continued on her way, carefully hugging the edge of the shrubbery with the help of the torch. Ahead of her she could make out a row of large rhododendrons acting as a divider in the garden. There were no signs of any disturbance to the ground this side of them, therefore, what she was looking for must be beyond them, in the top part of the garden.

  She moved purposefully on, being careful to keep to the shadows, her eyes scouring the darkness ahead of her.

  And then she saw it.

  There was no warning to prepare her for the stark little scene she suddenly stumbled across, although the night’s shadows cast a slight softening over the harsh reality of it. An area no more than three metres square cordoned off with white tape, surrounded by a larger area of bright yellow tape. Not much different to the countless, similar scenes she’d seen in detective dramas on the tv.

  She came to a halt at the outer perimeter and flashed her torch. She couldn’t see anything in any great detail, as the immediate area where she assumed the remains had been found was covered by a small plastic tent. It looked stark and bleak.