by Lee Weeks
Trevor Styles nodded slowly and stood back to allow them inside. The last of the colour was already draining from his face. He looked down the corridor to where his wife Elaine had stepped out of the kitchen, tea towel in one hand and plate in the other.
‘Hello, Elaine.’ Jeanie smiled at Mrs Styles; she nodded back, her eyes flitting worriedly from one detective to the other. ‘Will you come here please?’
Elaine Styles walked mechanically forward, clutching the plate in her hand.
Carter spoke: ‘Mr and Mrs Styles. A young woman’s body has been found that we believe to be Emily’s.’
The Styles stood apart from one another, each lonely in the grief, unable to stand it alone or together. Mr Styles nodded and turned to look at his wife as she stood in the hallway. Swaying, still clutching the tea towel, she dropped the plate. Jeanie went over, and knelt to pick up the pieces.
‘Have you got a dustpan?’ she asked Trevor, who nodded and went past his wife. She was still staring at Carter.
‘Are you sure it’s Emily?’ Elaine said as she wrapped her hands in the tea towel.
Carter nodded. ‘We are pretty sure. I’m so sorry, Mrs Styles.’
Trevor Styles returned with the dustpan and began sweeping up the last of the crockery shards.
Jeanie put her arm around Elaine. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She guided her in to sit down on the sofa in the lounge.
‘We just need to ask you a couple of questions,’ said Carter. ‘Did Emily wear an antique ring on a chain around her neck like this one?’ He showed her a photo of the ring.
Elaine looked hard at Carter, her mind revisiting painful images. She shook her head.
‘I’ve never seen it before.’ She looked at her husband, her eyes wide as he returned from the kitchen having disposed of the broken crockery. ‘Maybe it’s not her,’ she said as she shook her head, her face beginning to crumple.
‘Are you sure, Mrs Styles?’ asked Ebony. ‘About the jewellery?’
‘Yes, we’re sure,’ answered Trevor, looking at the photo whilst his wife fought to stop herself dissolving with the pain of grief.
‘Emily’s tattoo – the one on her ankle – can you tell us about that?’
Trevor shook his head sadly; his eyes were distant. ‘It’s an ancient Norse saying about the sea. We lost our son, Emily’s younger brother, when she was ten. He drowned off the beach in Cornwall. They were playing at the water’s edge. The next minute there was just Emily and he was gone. It was a calm day. He was only up to his knees. We will never know how it happened. They told us the current took him.’ Trevor shook his head again, his eyes misted as he still tried to understand what had happened. He looked up at them. ‘It looked so calm on the surface; we never knew there was a rip tide. Emily never got over it. She never went near the sea again. She was not the same girl afterwards. None of us were. You never get over something like that. Makes you feel like nothing you have is for ever.’
Elaine held the tea towel against her face, smothering her cries.
Ebony looked at Carter and he nodded; his eyes went to Jeanie and then flicked towards the door.
Jeanie stepped forward to hug Elaine Styles.
‘I think the best thing is if you come with me now and we go and see if it’s Emily.’
Mr Styles looked up and nodded. He looked at his wife.
She nodded.
‘Will you lock up? Elaine asked him.
The couple sat in the back of Carter’s car with Jeanie. Ebony looked across at Carter, who was driving. In the year she had worked with him she was still learning about his character. Things affected him that she didn’t think would. He was feeling it today. He kept his eyes on the road. He was saying the bare minimum. It was a Sunday morning. Shoppers were beginning to feel the Christmas lure. The sun had come out to start melting the snow. The car was silent until Trevor Styles asked:
‘Where did you find her?’
Carter looked in the mirror as he answered.
‘She was found in King’s Cross, Mr Styles, in the Regent’s Canal.’
‘Did she drown?’
‘No. We think she was strangled.’
Elaine turned her head away and sobbed quietly.
Ebony waited outside the mortuary with Mrs Styles whilst Carter and Jeanie took Mr Styles into the viewing room.
‘I think it’s better that we stand here, Trevor.’ Jeanie led him to stand before a large window in the viewing room. They looked onto the body, laid out beneath a shroud. Only her face was showing. Mark had done a good job on her. They stood behind the glass.
‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘It’s my daughter.’
Carter felt Mr Styles sway next to him. He turned to look at his reaction.
‘Her face looks so strange.’
Carter nodded. ‘The water.’ Trevor Styles was staring at Carter as if at any moment he might make a run for it. ‘But are you sure it’s her, Mr Styles?’
Trevor Styles’ face had lost all colour. ‘Yes.’ Words caught in his throat in a mixture of anguish and catarrh. ‘I’m sure. It’s my daughter Emily.’
Carter placed his hand on Mr Styles’ shoulder.
‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
Trevor Styles bowed his head and nodded. Carter led him back out to the reception area where he hugged his wife as she cried openly. His eyes stayed on Carter.
‘Will you find whoever did this?’
Carter nodded. ‘I give you my word.’ He waited until Mrs Styles drew back from her husband. ‘Is it okay if we take you home and ask you some questions? We will try to keep it as brief as possible,’ he asked.
Elaine was about to object but Trevor Styles answered.
‘Yes. The sooner we find out who did this and bring them to justice the sooner my wife and I can rebuild our lives – and there’s Sky to think of. Life has to go on now. We have to make the best of it for Sky.’
Back at their home Jeanie went into the kitchen and helped Elaine make tea for them all. Willis and Carter went into the lounge with Trevor.
Ebony watched him as he went to stand and look out of the window; outside the sky had clouded and the daylight was fast slipping away. It was three in the afternoon but already streetlamps were coming on.
Trevor stood in silence in the dark room, looking into the space beyond the net curtains. People passed as they walked home. The lights of cars lit up his face as they passed. Ebony was a good waiter and watcher. Life had taught her to be an observer. Life had taught her to wait for emotions and not to drag them out of people – they had a habit of coming out whether it was a good time or not. But then life had given her a bipolar mother who had ultimately killed someone. In between, Ebony had watched the kettle stay at boiling point her whole life. She saw no reason in agitating water that was already boiling, even if you couldn’t see it. It could still explode in your face.
Carter was always in a hurry. Always wanting to fill the silence. He looked over at Willis, wanting Ebony to be the first to break the silence, but she didn’t.
‘Once again.’ said Carter. ‘I am sorry for your loss, Mr Styles.’
Trevor Styles turned from the window and nodded his thanks. Styles looked across at Ebony.
‘Mr Styles,’ began Carter, ‘I’m going to get a few questions out of the way, if you don’t mind? I apologize if they sound offensive or cause distress but you will understand I’m only doing what I have to so that we can find who did this to Emily.’
‘I understand. Ask whatever you need to. I’ll answer if I can.’
‘You have a lot on your plate with little Sky?’ Carter asked.
He looked towards Carter and sighed out loud as he shook his head.
‘We will manage.’ Already his face was turning from the look of grief to a deep residue of anger. ‘We’ve looked after her all her life. I’m sure Jeanie’s told you – my daughter relied on us to look after Sky.’
‘Did you have a good relationship with Emily – were you close?’
H
e turned back to the window. The shadow from the net curtain chequered his face.
‘I regret being a little too easy on her.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Sometimes I think I could have been tougher on her; but with her brother gone . . . well, it was hard to get the balance right. We were so busy grieving we didn’t notice she wasn’t going to school. She got into trouble – drugs and a bad lot of friends – and then she left home for three years, we didn’t see her and then she came back pregnant. When she went missing I thought she’d slipped back to her old ways. Yes, we spoilt her, I know. But, who wouldn’t? After what happened to her brother we felt we had to treasure her. Maybe we allowed her to get away with too much. But, inside, in her heart, she was a lovely person. She would never intentionally hurt anyone. We had our rows but in the past year she seemed to really be making a go of it. I can’t understand why anyone would want to harm her, she was so lovely. She was an honest person – direct.’ He smiled and looked across at Ebony. ‘Very direct, almost in a child-like way. She never hesitated to say what ever came into her head. But she didn’t always understand people. She didn’t always have the skills you need to understand.’ A wash of confusion crossed his face and then sorrow replaced it. ‘But she was beautiful, inside and out – trusting, a free spirit and she had guts, determination. She knew she had a lot to learn; she held her hands up . . . but she did something about it. I failed her – didn’t give her credit. I should have trusted her to stick by Sky, to honour the promises she made to us.’
He shook his head. He looked at Ebony and waited for her to give him some reassurance but she couldn’t. Ebony stared back at him. He turned back to the window.
‘I guess that’s just something I have to carry with me.’
‘I’m sure you did what any parent would have done, Mr Styles.’ Carter smiled sympathetically. ‘She obviously loved living here and she trusted you to look after Sky. Why was she going to move out?’
‘It was time, the next part in her journey in life. She was taking small steps and we didn’t mind how small they were. We loved having her back here and we adore Sky. She was really pleased with the flat. Her mum helped her buy all the bits for it. It’s just around the corner from here. Still we thought maybe that’s why she ran away, the thought of having to cope alone. But she didn’t run away. We did her an injustice. We should have known she wouldn’t.’
‘Did she have a boyfriend?’ asked Carter, trying to seem sympathetic but also trying to push the conversation along.
‘Not that we’d seen. Nobody serious anyway.’
‘She must have had some male friends?’ Carter persisted.
Mr Styles wrapped his arms around himself and his face was lit with the lights from the passing traffic.
‘Yes, she had some.’ He shrugged. ‘There are ones she’s known since she was young; she grew up around here. She spent her childhood in this house.’
‘But no one special?’
‘She was at college, she’d made some new friends through that. I think she’d had a few dates with the same person. But nothing you’d call a relationship.’
‘Did you hear a name being talked about?’
‘No. Emily was quite a private person, especially where we were concerned. We were on a “need to know” basis. Plus, if she had been seeing someone she wouldn’t have brought them back here. She had spent a few nights on and off in her new flat. She would have taken them there.’
‘What was she studying?’ asked Ebony.
‘She was taking basic qualifications, hoping to train as a veterinary nurse, first rung of the ladder type of thing.’
‘What about Sky’s father’s family? Do any of them ever come around?’ asked Carter.
‘Occasionally Bo used to show up with a present for Sky. He doesn’t give any money, that’s for sure. When he went back inside, Emily got the odd phone call from him, that was all. She’d definitely moved on.’ He shook his head. ‘She was so busy, so excited about college, that’s all she talked about. She had a new set of friends.’
‘How did she manage for money?’
‘She didn’t really.’ Styles smiled, shook his head. ‘She was always broke. We helped her out.’ He smiled. ‘We didn’t mind.’ His voice was barely audible as he addressed no one in particular. ‘It doesn’t seem right that it happened to her – just when she was getting somewhere and things were going right.’
‘I understand. I am sorry. It’s very tough for you. One more thing – I think I know the answer to this but please understand I have to ask. Was there any chance Emily was injecting any kind of drug?’
Trevor Styles shook his head, saddened that the question had been asked. He looked across at Ebony. She didn’t flinch from his gaze. He shook his head.
‘Absolutely not heroin or anything that involved needles. Emily has a real phobia about needles.’
Chapter 10
‘What are your thoughts, Ebb?’ Carter pulled away from outside the Styles’ house. ‘Do you think she could have hidden a lot from her parents? Could she have had a whole life they didn’t know about? They didn’t seem to worry when she didn’t come home at night. She could have been someone’s regular escort? Hawk might be someone who paid her for sex.’
‘Not likely, Guv, if she was always broke. Jeanie said they spoke to her friends at the time – I think it would have come out then. Plus, a rich punter is unlikely to want to draw attention to his crime by dumping her in the canal – much more likely to dispose of her in the countryside or the sea.’
‘I agree. He’s definitely made a point with location and method. Why? For notoriety?’
‘Think it’s fame, Guv.’ Ebony looked across at Carter as he drove. They were caught in a traffic jam.
‘Yeah.’ Carter nodded his agreement. ‘Everyone remembers the body found in the canal; no one remembers the one found in the woods. And, sometimes that body isn’t even found. Somehow Hawk doesn’t seem the type to want to waste the kill. He wants everyone to see it.’
‘I think he wanted to be able to see her when she came back up,’ said Ebony. ‘And he wanted us to find her exactly as he intended: face, body, make-up, everything.’
‘Maybe he even guessed when her body would float to the surface? Is that possible Ebb?’
She nodded. ‘He could take a guess. He could work it out to the nearest two weeks, maybe. All he would need to do was to be sure of the temperature of the water, the weight of the body, the amount of fat, the food in her stomach even. But the temperature of the water dropping like it did would have been difficult to calculate.’
‘The freezing? Yes. That’s something he couldn’t control,’ said Carter.
‘That and the subsequent lack of oxygen in the water would have slowed the whole process down.’ Ebony said.
‘Then we need to examine all CCTV footage of the area and look for someone who couldn’t stay away. Someone who’s been visiting that area for the past three weeks, every day.’
On the way back to Fletcher House they stopped off at the Whittington to see Doctor Harding. They found her in her office. She had just finished cutting what was left of Emily Styles’ liver into centimetre slices to create slides for the laboratory.
‘I can spare you half an hour,’ she said.
‘Thirty minutes will be all I need,’ answered Carter.
‘Shoot.’ Harding indicated that they should pull up chairs.
‘Now we know who Emily Styles was,’ said Carter, ‘I’d like to run through some of the post mortem findings again with you, Doctor Harding. I want to try and get an idea of what was happening to Emily in the last months of her life and get a sense of where she might have been and what she’s been through.’
‘You mean now we know she wasn’t a sex worker on her way to a fancy dress party?’ Harding fixed Carter with a look that betrayed a hint of mockery.
Ebony tried not to smile as she studied the notes in her lap as she shuffled in her chair. She liked Harding. She might be the only woman in the dep
artment who did. But then, Ebony didn’t have a husband to lose and she had everything to learn from Harding.
Carter put his hands up in surrender mode.
‘I agree I might have jumped to conclusions but everything pointed to someone who had a drug habit and lived a dangerous life right up until the day she died. Not a single mum on the way to collect her child from nursery and held hostage for months. That came out of nowhere.’ Harding scrolled through the results on her screen whilst tapping her forefinger on the desktop as she waited impatiently.
Carter looked across at Ebony and rolled his eyes; she responded with a raised eyebrow and a sideways smile. Carter gave a look that said he might have guessed whose side she’d be on.
‘We can be pretty sure she was held somewhere against her will: starved and abused. We need to get an idea of how she was kept in order to find out where that might have been. Could the marks on her ankles and wrists have been caused by being restrained?’
Harding opened Emily Styles’ post mortem notes on the desk. ‘Yes. I would say so. There are variations in the depth of the wounds, where the weight of her body could have rested for long periods of time. The injuries to her wrists and ankles indicate that she was restrained and suspended by the arms primarily: hoisted up by her arms, at the wrists were where the wounds are deep. We will never know by what because the flesh has been destroyed by the pond elements.’ She pulled a piece of paper out from the drawer under her desk and began drawing a diagram of a sophisticated hangman’s noose.
‘So . . .’ Carter tapped his pencil on the hangman diagram. ‘She was suspended somehow and her ankles were bound.’
Harding nodded her agreement. ‘Yes. I would have no trouble testifying to that in court.’
‘He raped her, he assaulted her. He starved her, we know that,’ added Carter. ‘He could have killed her within moments of kidnapping her but he enjoys the wait. He enjoys watching her suffer. Three months is a long time to keep someone alive – someone so sick.’
‘There’s no doubt that her organs were shot,’ said Harding. ‘I’ve just finished slicing them up for examination and I can tell you now that the liver was beyond repair and so were her kidneys. The infection had poisoned her whole system.’