Cold as Ice

by Lee Weeks

  ‘Now there’s a new kid on the block,’ said Robbo.

  ‘Could Hawk have modelled himself on one of these men?’ asked Ebony.

  ‘It’s always possible,’ said Robbo. ‘We’ll look into it.’

  ‘But he’s not asking for a ransom so it’s all about the killing and the torture.’ Carter was absorbed with reading the profiles of the murderers on his screen.

  ‘And he’s bringing his own style to it. He is making sure his MO is unique: the make-up and the jewellery,’ Ebony picked up the antique ring from Robbo’s desk and held it in the palm of her hand. ‘The Styles were adamant they’d never seen it before when we showed them a photo.’

  ‘It hasn’t been reported stolen or lost,’ Robbo said, looking at the screen in front of him.

  ‘Did he give it to her and does that mean it holds a special significance to him? Or the symbolism?’ asked Carter.

  ‘It’s really pretty.’ Ebony held the ring up to the light. ‘Is it an antique engagement ring or maybe an eternity ring?’

  Robbo tapped on his keyboard and brought up photos of similar ones on his PC. He turned the screen round to show them. ‘One central diamond surrounded by small clusters in the shape of a flower – engagement. Eternity rings all tend to be a band with stones set inside, like a fancy wedding band.’

  Ebony swung it in the air by the chain as she looked at it. ‘The two rings don’t go together. The other ring could be out of a cracker, it’s the kind young girls wear – like you get free in teenagers’ comics. I think it was pink in the beginning but the metallic finish has washed off.’

  ‘If we know it wasn’t Emily’s then did Hawk put the two together and put it on her? Did Hawk want it to be found on her?’ Ebony felt the weight of the chain in her hands.

  Robbo took a sip of coffee. He was nodding without realizing as he rocked in his chair; and it creaked beneath his bulk. ‘Yes. Definitely. He knew it would be lost in the canal if he didn’t tie it on to her so he put it on a sturdy chain and put it around her neck before taping it under the bag.’

  Carter took the chain from Ebony and allowed it to snake down onto the desk where it lay coiled. ‘We need to talk to all her friends again, re-examine all the evidence. Look at CCTV from the Tube station when she disappeared to see if we can find a match with anyone hanging about the canal,’ said Carter, who was mulling things over and still playing with the chain. ‘You compiled the list of friends we need to talk to, Robbo?

  ‘Yes.’ Robbo tapped on his keyboard and the printer started up. He pulled out a sheet and then handed it across the desk to Carter. ‘The top five names on the list are her closest friends.’

  ‘What did they say at the time?’ asked Carter.

  ‘They all told the same story,’ answered Ebony, staring at the photo of Emily Styles on the front page of the file. ‘That Emily was a bit unpredictable, that she liked to party but that she was a good mother. This photo was taken by the third friend on the list Danielle Foster.’

  ‘We need to re-interview them now,’ said Carter. ‘Get hold of them and get them in for an interview. We can’t keep Emily Styles’ identity a secret any more. It’s time to give the press a name. Perhaps then Hawk will come out of hiding.’

  Chapter 13

  Tracy had a hard job making out who was phoning her through the fractured glass on her screen. It upset her every time she looked at her phone but she couldn’t afford to get a new one till at least February. She heard Danielle’s voice on the other end.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tracy.’

  Tracy moved into the bedroom to have privacy away from Steve. It was nine in the evening and she was so tired she was already getting ready for bed. Tracy had been working long hours since she babysat for Danielle. She hadn’t heard a thing for three days.

  ‘Okay, well I probably overreacted.’

  Danielle sighed at the other end of the phone. ‘No, you probably didn’t. It was an awful thing to happen. I know you weren’t glad, but I was really grateful it was you there with Jackson. You coped when most other people would have flipped. I couldn’t have wanted anyone else but you, Tracy.’

  Tracy felt a sob come into her throat. She coughed.

  ‘That’s very nice of you to say, Danielle. I hope Jackson is okay?’

  ‘Yes. He asked where Nanny had gone when he got up the next day. He seems to be all right about the break-in. ‘

  ‘Did you have the door fixed?’

  ‘Not yet but I will. I was ringing to ask if you would like to come to a Christmas school fête the day after tomorrow? We are raising funds to make costumes for our Nativity play. Jackson’s playing a bunny.’

  ‘A bunny?’ Tracy laughed. ‘I don’t remember there being a bunny in the Christmas story!’

  ‘Yeah. He’s one of the animals in the stable. He looks really cute. You’ll have to come and see it when it’s on.’

  ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘So you’ll come then, on Saturday? I’ll see you at the park, children’s playground at half ten?’

  ‘Yes.’ Tracy ended the call and sat on her bed thinking. She couldn’t hear Steve moving about in the next room. He was in the lounge; she was sure of that. She could hear the news on the television. He was in a funny mood tonight, sort of hovering. He was bound to guess the call was from Danielle – she never got a call at that time in the evening. Tracy thought she should push for him to meet Danielle and Jackson now. She was sure she was meant to have them in her life. Now that she saw how vulnerable Jackson was and how much Danielle needed all her support, and especially now that Danielle had apologized. She knew that they’d taken a big step forward and Tracy felt a commitment growing. If they were her life – they were in Steve’s.

  Steve turned as Tracy came back into the lounge; he was jumpy. He turned off the telly and picked up the car keys.

  ‘Are you going out?’ Tracy asked, surprised but also slightly relieved that she didn’t have to talk to him about Danielle and Jackson. Not right at that moment.

  ‘Yep. Work just called – seems there are some deliveries need sorting out before tomorrow. You can’t object surely? You’re hardly here at the moment.’

  Tracy smiled. It was her ‘I’m smiling but inside I am bloody angry’ look. ‘Of course, love. If you’re needed then you have to go. I understand. I wouldn’t want it any other way – my man the manager.’

  She kissed his cheek and went to turn the television back on. Steve hovered by the door. The news came back on the telly. The photo of Emily Styles, taken by Danielle at the festival, was on the screen. She looked across at Steve; he seemed to be waiting, to be building up to saying something. Tracy couldn’t face it. She didn’t want the criticism, the anger. ‘Oh look.’ She diverted his attention. ‘They’ve found out the identity of that woman those boys found in the Regent’s Canal. What a shame – what a beautiful girl.’ Steve came to stand in front of the television. ‘Steve? I want to see the news. Can you move please, love?’

  ‘There’s no need to get cross just because I have to go to work.’

  ‘I’m not cross.’ Tracy blinked at him, even more confused than before.

  ‘You’re either at work or you’re with that woman and her son.’

  ‘Danielle and Jackson?’ Tracy felt panic grip her chest as she tried so hard to look in control and to stay calm and happy. ‘I’m not seeing a lot of them, Steve. But . . . you know? I think it’s time we talked about the fact that they have come into our lives and we have to accept it. I would like you to meet them.’ Tracy looked at his face. ‘Not now maybe . . .’ He seemed so upset that Tracy decided she’d been right that now was not such a good time to discuss it. She’d made a start at least. ‘Shall we have a proper chat about this when you’re home and you’re free?’

  ‘Oh I’m home a lot – sat here on my own,’ he said accusingly.

  ‘Sorry, love.’ Something wasn’t right but Tracy couldn’t work out what was at the heart of it with Steve. He seemed to be doing his best
to start an argument. ‘I’ve been working long hours at Simmons; I asked for extra shifts – but then we could do with the money.’

  ‘Oh, I know. It’s all my fault, isn’t it? I am always going to be blamed for everything in this house. Well I’ve had enough of it. You go and spend as much time as you like with your new-found daughter and I’ll make my own life.’

  Tracy was stunned into silence. She heard the front door slam. She couldn’t remember the last time Steve had thrown a wobbly like that; she had no idea what it was all about. She had to admit she hadn’t really wanted to discuss things with Steve because she knew he always reacted badly to stress. Tracy’s attention was back on the television – the tall, sickly-looking blond Detective Chief Inspector Bowie was appealing for the public’s help; they had to phone a number if anyone had any information about the dead woman in the canal. The photo of Emily Styles stayed on the screen.

  Danielle was about to switch the news off and look for a film to watch when she froze as she looked at her friend’s face. Emily Styles with her distinctive auburn hair was smiling out of the screen just the way she was the last time Danielle had seen her at the festival. Danielle edged closer to the television and listened to the news report; everything else in the room disappeared as her brain tried to make sense of what she was looking at. She stared at Emily’s photo on the screen and saw the film of the officers searching the towpath in the background. Detective Chief Inspector Bowie was giving a press conference, recorded earlier in the day.

  ‘We need anyone with any information about Emily to come forward. We believe she was held somewhere for a number of weeks prior to being murdered and her body disposed of in the Regent’s Canal. We believe someone must have information about what happened to Emily. She was a gregarious young woman and a devoted mother to her daughter Sky. She disappeared on the fifth of June in between meeting her friend in Camden and collecting Sky from nursery. Someone somewhere knows what happened to her; if you have any information please ring the number on the screen.’

  Danielle reached for her phone.

  Chapter 14

  Saturday arrived with a warmth to the sunshine.

  Great day for it, thought Tracy as she checked her watch – it was nearly eleven o’clock. She had been inside the park for forty minutes. Where was Danielle? The kids’ park was busy with children dressed as Santa’s helpers and elves and fairies. Girls running around in princess dresses that still filled Tracy with a sense of longing. When she was their age she would have gone on and on at her mother to make her the best, the most beautiful dress in the world; and she would have got it too. Things were never the same after she got pregnant. Tracy walked across to a young woman with caramel-coloured dreadlocks, massive freckles over her face and a baby tied onto her back. She was running a stall selling non-alcoholic mulled wine and vegan mince pies.

  ‘Excuse me. I wonder if you know Danielle, Jackson’s mum?’

  ‘Of course.’ The woman was briefly distracted serving mince pies then she came over.

  ‘Yeah. I know Danielle well.’ She smiled. ‘She should be here by now. We were going to run this stall together. She should have been here two hours ago to help set up.’ The woman poured out a mulled wine for a customer. ‘Must have overslept. I’m surprised Jackson let it happen though, he was so keen. One of my friends is dressing up as Santa and we’ve all bought our kids a gift for him to hand out. I can’t believe Jackson’s not first in the queue. He was so excited about it yesterday.’

  Tracy looked in the direction of Danielle’s estate.

  ‘Maybe I should go and see if she needs a hand.’

  ‘Do you know where she lives?’

  ‘Yes, I know. I’ve been there before. I’m going to go and knock on her door. If I miss her, tell her I’ll come back. My name’s Tracy.’

  ‘No problem.’ The woman went back to pouring mulled wine.

  Tracy crossed over Seven Sisters Road and walked towards the high-rise blocks. A growing feeling of anxiety was making her walk quickly. What if the three men had come back? What if Danielle or Jackson was hurt? Tracy would never forgive herself. She knew she should have phoned the police. She sprinted up to Danielle’s landing and ran along to the pink door. She could barely breathe. When she knocked she heard a low growl in response. She knocked louder and waited. This time Scruffy answered with a bark. Tracy bent low and looked through the letterbox. Jackson was looking back at her.

  ‘Hello, Jackson, is Mummy there?’ Tracy looked past him. She was relieved to see him safe but was now feeling slightly cross with Danielle for letting everyone down. ‘Danielle? Danielle, they’re waiting for you at the park.’ She listened and heard nothing.

  Scruffy came and tried to lick Tracy through the letterbox, knocking Jackson off his feet.

  ‘Scruffy, NO! Jackson? Jackson?’ Jackson came back into her vision; his little fingers clasping hers through the open letterbox. ‘Get Mummy for me.’

  ‘Nanny?’ There was dried blood over his hand. It was ice cold.

  ‘Are you hurt, Jackson?’ He started to cry.

  ‘It’s all right. There’s a good boy. Don’t cry. It’ll be all right. Nanny’s here, darling. Where’s Mummy, Jackson? Danielle? Is she in bed? Danielle?’ She looked past him and called through the letterbox. ‘Danielle, are you okay?’ Beyond Jackson she could see an upturned table in the hall, and she became aware of a long whine coming from the phone receiver, which was off the hook.’ Jackson, is Mummy in the flat somewhere? Is she sleeping?’ She called out again. ‘Go and get Mummy, Jackson.’ Jackson didn’t move. He held on to Tracy’s fingers. Tracy jammed the letterbox open as wide as it would go with one hand to stop it closing on Jackson’s fingers. With the other hand she scrabbled in her bag for her phone and managed to call Danielle’s number. She listened. She heard nothing. Oh God.

  She knelt down again and looked at Jackson’s face.

  Jackson’s fat little hand was wedged into the letterbox further. She looked at his face. He looked like he’d been crying a long time, thought Tracy. He was still in his pyjamas. Tracy kept her hand on his as she stood up and looked along the landing to see if anyone could help, but there was no one about.

  ‘Oh God,’ muttered Tracy. ‘Something’s definitely not right. I should have called the police then and I’m definitely calling them now.’ She started dialling 999 at the same time as Scruffy began non-stop barking.

  Chapter 15

  Robbo was on the way to see Bowie when he passed his old office. The man in charge there now was Griff, a softly spoken police officer who had come over from Organized Crime six months ago and was still learning the ropes. Robbo had taken him under his wing.

  Griff was on the phone as Robbo passed. He was concentrating hard on a call. Robbo lifted his chin in a ‘I won’t disturb you – I’m just passing’ gesture when Griff’s hand went in the air to beckon him over. Griff finished up the call.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ asked Robbo.

  ‘Just got a call about a missing person. Thought you might be interested. It came via the police station next door. One of the officers was called to help break into a flat where a young mum wasn’t responding and her child was inside alone. When they got inside they found that the mum was missing. There were signs of a struggle. The name came up on the system – Danielle Foster, a friend of Emily Styles, but she is also one of the people who phoned in after the appeal on Thursday.’

  ‘Can I listen to her call?’

  ‘Yes, it’s just been sent to me.’ He turned back to his PC and opened a link. They listened to Danielle’s call.

  Hello – thanks for calling our appeal line. Do you have information on Emily Styles?

  Yes . . . well I don’t know. I am a friend of hers – was . . . I had no idea. I thought she’d just gone off for a while.

  Have you made a statement already?

  I did, at the time.

  What did you want to add?

  It’s just that I was out a couple of n
ights ago and one of the men who knows Emily was making jokes about what if it was her in the canal and wouldn’t she have hated getting her hair wet, spoiling her make-up, that kind of thing. It just seems much too big a coincidence to me. These are people I am very close to. Now I’m really worried.

  Okay, Danielle, I understand. Would you like to come into Archway Police Station or if you prefer we can get one of our officers to come around and interview you?

  I don’t want any police coming here. I’ll come in the next day or so and I’ll talk it through.

  When you come in, ask for an officer from MIT 17. They are connected to Archway Police Station. I will leave a note and you will be expected. Thank you for your call.

  Griff pressed the stop button. ‘She didn’t come in, but that’s not to say she wouldn’t have. What do you want to do?’

  ‘Good work, Griff. I’ll inform Inspector Carter and Willis so they can go round there now and decide whether we need SOCOs. Tell the first responder to stay put until someone gets there.’

  Ebony and Carter arrived to a gathering of onlookers on the landing and people on the stairwell leading up to Danielle’s apartment. An officer was waiting for them.

  Carter took him to one side. ‘You the first respon-der?’

  ‘Yes, Sir. My colleague and I.’ He turned to point out another officer further down the landing who was talking to neighbours.