Cold as Ice

by Lee Weeks

‘What did it look like when you got here?’

  ‘We had to break in to gain access but the door was already damaged. It hadn’t been bolted from inside. The little boy was inside on his own with the dog. There’s definitely some kind of scuffle gone on in there. The lights were all off, curtains drawn. Looks like she’d been gone all night. The little boy was still in his pyjamas. Furniture’s not ransacked but a few things are knocked about. Enough to indicate she put up a struggle. There are also some blood splatters on the wall in the hallway, Sir.’

  Carter looked inside the flat from the doorway. He turned to Ebony.

  ‘Let’s get Sandford and the SOCO team over.’ Then he turned back to the officer. ‘Make sure no one goes inside until they arrive and take over from you.’ Ebony took out her phone and called Robbo.

  ‘Robbo, we need SOCOs.’

  ‘How’s it looking?’ he asked.

  ‘She left a small child alone all night possibly and there are signs of a struggle. Beyond that, not sure – too early to tell.’

  ‘Okay, Sandford’s on his way.’ Ebony hung up. She looked over at the woman struggling to get a little boy into his all-in-one suit and then at the officer still talking to Carter.

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘This is Mrs Collins. She made the 999 call. It’s her daughter’s flat.’

  ‘She’s the boy’s grandmother?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Ebony waited as Tracy finished getting Jackson’s suit on and zipped up.

  ‘Mrs Collins?’ Tracy nodded. ‘I am Detective Constable Willis and that’s Detective Inspector Carter.’ Ebony nodded towards Carter who was standing at the entrance to the flat, still in conversation with the officer there. ‘You made the 999 call?’

  ‘Yes. I think something’s happened to her. I know she wouldn’t leave Jackson on his own. And on Monday, when I babysat for her, three men broke in.’

  ‘Did they do that?’ Carter pointed to the door.

  ‘No. Someone else had already done that damage. The men broke the lock. They ransacked the place and frightened the life out of me and Jackson.’

  ‘Who did Danielle say they were?’

  ‘Friends of her ex-boyfriend, Jackson’s father. Jackson is so upset – he’s really cold . . .’ Tracy shook her head. ‘I knew I should have called the police but Danielle wasn’t keen. She didn’t want any trouble, she said.’

  ‘Trouble from her ex-boyfriend?’

  ‘No, from the men, whoever they were.’

  ‘Okay, Mrs Collins. You did the right thing to call us. Do you live near?’

  ‘Not very. Hornsey. I was coming here today to go to the Christmas fête with them. That’s why is seems odd that she’s not here.’ Ebony nodded. She was looking at the streak of congealed blood in Jackson’s hair.

  ‘We’ll need to take you and the boy somewhere while we examine your daughter’s flat.’

  ‘Can’t I just go in and get some more clothes for Jackson?’ Tracy asked. ‘I only managed to get this suit for him because it was on top of the buggy.’

  ‘Sorry, Mrs Collins.’ Ebony stopped her. ‘It’s not possible at the moment.’ Tracy took out a tissue from her bag to wipe Jackson’s face. He squirmed from her as she tried to tidy him up.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that, Mrs Collins. Take him as he is and we’ll arrange things later. We’ll tidy him up when we get him back to yours.’ Ebony was making a mental note to take Tracy’s fingerprints as she’d obviously been in as far as the hallway. She’d need to send her clothes away for analysis as well.

  ‘Oh . . . yes.’ She looked a little confused but then looked down at Jackson and smiled reassuringly. ‘But how long before we can go in and get his things? Obviously we can’t manage without them?’

  Ebony shook her head apologetically.

  ‘Sorry but we’re going to have stay out of the flat while the forensic team look at everything. We’re doing everything we can to find out what’s happened, Mrs Collins. We’ll give you and your grandson a lift home. I presume you will be looking after him? We’ll take a full statement from you then.’ Tracy blinked at Ebony for a few seconds. Jackson stood patiently watching Tracy’s face.

  ‘It will be all right, Jackson. Nanny will look after you till Mummy comes back.’

  Ebony whispered to Carter: ‘There’s blood in the boy’s hair.’

  Carter glanced across at Jackson. ‘When we get to her place, bring in the forensics kit from the car and take a sample. Shall we go, Mrs Collins?’ He turned to Tracy, who looked like she was waiting for someone to wake her up from a nightmare.

  ‘Thanks for your help.’ Carter addressed the half a dozen neighbours who had come out to take part in the drama. ‘Please wait here for a few more minutes while your statements are taken.’ Carter turned to the two police officers. ‘Then you’re finished here.’

  Tracy led Jackson away by the hand and followed Carter past the neighbours and down the stairs.

  ‘Mrs Collins? The dog?’ one of the officers called out to them as they walked away.

  Tracy stopped. ‘What about the dog?’

  She was about to say: I don’t think so, when she looked at Jackson’s face and realized she had no choice. She turned back to pick up Scruffy’s lead.

  ‘Of course. Come on, Scruffy.’

  As they drove to Tracy’s house, Tracy sat in the back seat with Jackson and Scruffy. She stared out at the traffic and Jackson held on to her hand. It took them forty minutes to get through the traffic and pull up outside Tracy’s flat; it was the bottom half of a town house in a residential street in Hornsey near a busy main road.

  ‘Please take your shoes off at the door.’

  Tracy turned to them as she unlocked the front door, stepped inside and set Jackson down. She looked exasperated as she watched Scruffy saunter in past her as if he owned the place.

  Ebony took off her shoes reluctantly; she had odd socks on and one of the socks was missing a big toe. She looked at Carter’s feet – there were polo ponies galloping across his socks. Ebony tried to hide her feet with the hem of her trousers. She would put socks onto her Christmas list if she had one.

  Ebony had in her hands the forensics kit that she’d brought with her from the car.

  Tracy led the way into the flat. The place was overdone, fussy, with dried flowers and photo frames. Lots of white-painted French-style bric-a-brac.

  Carter steered Tracy into the lounge and lowered his voice out of earshot of Jackson. ‘Did you see your daughter regularly, Mrs Collins?

  Tracy shook her head. ‘I had only met her a few times. I hadn’t seen her for a few days. We were just beginning to build up a relationship. You see, I gave her up for adoption when she was born. I was fifteen at the time.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw her?’

  ‘I was babysitting for her on Monday when those three men burst in and threatened me and Jackson. Do you think they came back?’

  ‘Do you know what they wanted?’

  ‘No. They turned the place upside down searching for something, I don’t know what. Didn’t find out.’

  ‘Were they looking for Danielle?’

  ‘No. Manson. Someone called Manson. Danielle said it was Niall Manson, Jackson’s dad. She said that he must have given her address. He’s a – you know . . .?’ She whispered. ‘A drug dealer . . . and that’s why she’d left him in the first place.’

  ‘Did she seem very worried about it?’

  ‘No. If I’m honest, that’s what shocked me. I thought to myself – she just thinks that’s normal. She said she’d speak to him. She didn’t seem that bothered, or maybe she wasn’t showing it. She didn’t like me knowing about that side of her life. But she phoned and apologized a few days later and asked me to come to the Christmas fête in the park today.’

  ‘Would you recognize the three men again, Mrs Collins?’

  ‘Yes I would – they were covered in tattoos and piercings. Terrible teeth. It was awful.’ Tracy shook her head
. She was looking at him wide-eyed. ‘I seriously wondered whether I should see Danielle again. I thought about it, you know . . . it’s not a world I know about – drug dealers and gangs. They pushed me against the wall, frightened the life out of poor little Jackson.’

  Ebony went into the kitchen with Jackson and opened up the forensics kit on the kitchen worktop. She looked around the immaculate room with its colour scheme of black and white with bold red kettle and toaster.

  Jackson was watching everything Tracy did. Scruffy had come into the kitchen too and he was sniffing out the corners of the room in search of crumbs.

  Carter looked at the photos on the wall of the lounge. Tracy looked young in them, she was getting married, on holiday. She was happy and smiling. There were no recent ones.

  ‘I think he wants water,’ Ebony called from the kitchen, looking at Scruffy. ‘He’s panting a lot. Shall I find a container from the cupboard?’

  ‘I’m coming,’ answered Tracy. ‘I’ll find one.’

  Tracy came in and stopped as she looked at Ebony and the forensics kit being opened on her worktop.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ said Ebony, seeing the scowl again. ‘I need to take your fingerprints and a couple of swabs from you and Jackson and then I’ll need the clothes you’re wearing please.’ Tracy shook her head although she kept the worried expression as she pulled open cupboards and began looking for a bowl for Scruffy.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Just to check for fibres and things that might help us understand what happened in the flat. And, as you have handled Jackson, we need yours too. I’ll get someone to bring some clothes over for Jackson. Maybe you’ve got a T-shirt and jumper he can wear for now?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

  Tracy pulled out a stack of freezer containers, pulled one off the top and filled it. Scruffy splashed water on the tiles as he drank. She lifted the bowl and placed kitchen paper beneath it. Carter was in the other room talking to Jackson, who had wandered from the kitchen. He flicked through the TV channels and found something that seemed to settle him. Then he rang Sandford out of earshot.

  ‘What?’ He had his usual what the hell do you want now? tone. Sandford, head of the SOCOs, always had the sound and look of a man dying to be elsewhere and begrudging the time spent talking to Carter. ‘There were definite signs of a scuffle in the flat and a sign of forced entry at the door but it looks like it’s been cleaned up. It could have happened a few days ago.’

  ‘Yeah, it did. The place was broken into then. We think the father of the little boy may have been involved in that.’

  ‘I’ve found some documents about him, the boy’s birth certificate and child support stuff. I’ll send them over to Robbo to trace.’ Sandford continued his report. ‘There’s recent blood, last twenty-four hours. Not a massive amount, but enough to be unusual. It’s in several sites around the flat. The heaviest flow of blood, a pattern of ten heavy drips, starts in the kitchen.’

  ‘Any weapon? Anything that could have caused it?’

  ‘Not so far. The bleeding continues from the kitchen out into the bathroom and there is blood around the basin.’

  ‘Maybe she was trying to clean up the wound?’

  ‘Maybe. There is also a smear on the bathroom cabinet. It may have been a defensive wound. There is a cast-off splatter pattern by the door in the hallway, halfway down the wall. Blood came down from a height and the droplets dispersed.’

  ‘There is dried blood in the boy’s hair – at the top of his head, so if the blood is hers then he was definitely there when she left the house?’

  ‘Yes. He would have seen what happened.’

  ‘Thanks. We’ll photograph it and take a sample.’

  Sandford hung up. Next Carter rang Robbo.

  ‘We’re back at the grandmother’s house. Just talked to Sandford, who confirms that it looks like she was taken by force. Mrs Collins, the grandmother, was there on Monday, when she was threatened by three white males who broke in. They are connected to Danielle Foster’s ex, Niall Manson. Find him for me, Robbo. Sandford’s found some details on the father.’

  ‘He sent them over to you.’

  ‘We got them. I’ve been looking at his file.’

  ‘What do we know about him?’

  ‘He has been inside for burglary with intent,’ answered Robbo. ‘Possession of a weapon, assault, grievous, supplying of a class B drug. You name it, he’s been done for it; been inside three times but nothing that got him more than a two-year stretch.’

  ‘Have him picked up. I need Jeanie over here. There’s a four-year-old child who we are pretty sure saw who took his mum – he’s got blood in his hair.’

  Carter got off the phone to Robbo and rang Jeanie, explained the situation to her.

  ‘We need your help over here.’

  ‘I want to stay with Mr and Mrs Styles until they say they don’t need me any more. They have a lot to cope with.’

  ‘Jeanie, you have experience in victim support and child abuse. He’ll need careful handling. I’m asking you for a favour.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll come over now to start the process off but I would prefer if you handed it over to someone else afterwards.’

  ‘I’m grateful, and can you pick the child up something to wear. I would say he’s a big four-year-old.’

  In the kitchen Ebony handed Tracy a DNA test. ‘Rub the end against the inside of your cheek for a minute please, turning the tip the whole time.’

  Tracy looked at it with suspicion. ‘I’m sorry. It’s so strange for me. I’m not used to having anything like this happen.’ She had her business face on, the one she gave to difficult customers.

  Ebony smiled. ‘I understand. It’s nothing to worry about – it doesn’t hurt.’

  Tracy did as she was told. When she was done, she handed the test back to Ebony to pack away.

  ‘Is this the kind of thing you deal with every day?’

  ‘Missing persons, you mean?’ Tracy nodded. Ebony looked back at her forensics box and tidied it. ‘Every day is different. Same type of things though.’

  ‘But is it always missing persons?’

  ‘Not always.’ She looked up at Tracy. ‘I’m a member of a Major Incident Team, Mrs Collins.’ Ebony didn’t add that she was part of the Murder Squad.

  ‘Is that what this is? A major incident?’

  Ebony nodded. ‘We are treating it as potentially that. I hope it turns out not to be that, but it’s better that we get resources directed straight away to finding Danielle.’ Ebony looked at Tracy. ‘Have you got someone to come and give you some support?’ Tracy didn’t seem to understand what Ebony was saying; she first started shaking her head and then seemed to change her mind. ‘I mean are you married, Mrs Collins, or do you live here on your own?’ Ebony began searching through the box to find what she needed to take a sample of the blood in Jackson’s hair.

  ‘Sorry – yes – I’m married. My husband Steve is an area manager,’ she said, smiling proudly. ‘It’s for a storage facility company.’

  ‘And do you work?’

  Tracy gave a sharp intake of breath.

  ‘Oh God. Yes. I have to be in work today at two.’ She looked at her watch. It was ten minutes to two.

  ‘You’d better call work and tell them you won’t be coming in. Just tell them there is a family situation.’

  Tracy snatched up her phone and began searching for Jazmina’s number.

  She found it and turned her back to Ebony as she stood facing the back door to make the call. Ebony watched Tracy’s shoulders rise and fall as she listened to the person on the other end of the phone, who seemed to be trying their best to calm and reassure her. She finished talking and ended the call.

  ‘She says not to worry.’ Tracy rolled her eyes. ‘Not to worry and it’s the busiest time of year!’ She began furiously wiping the work surface where water had splashed from filling Scruffy’s bowl.

  ‘Did you explain?’

  ‘Yes, b
ut it’s no good, you know? I work on the beauty counter at Simmons on Holloway Road. There’s just me and Jazmina.’ Tracy stared at Ebony, her eyes wide. Ebony had an odd reminder of the make-up on Emily Styles. ‘How is she going to cope? Look . . . this is all turning into a nightmare. I have my own life here. I can’t just drop everything.’

  ‘Do you think you should ring your husband now? He needs to know what’s happening here so that he comes home prepared.’

  Tracy looked at the kitchen clock and shook her head.

  ‘He’ll be busy at work. I’ll try him later. Where is Danielle? Do you think something’s happened to her?’ She stopped as she saw Jackson standing at the kitchen door looking lost. She rushed over to him. ‘Come with Nanny, darling, we need to clean you up. We’ll find something on the telly for you as well. Ebony gave a small shake of the head and reached out a hand to stop Tracy taking Jackson away. She couldn’t risk her wiping away evidence.

  ‘Can I have him over here for a minute?’

  Tracy followed Ebony’s gaze to the forensics kit.

  ‘Oh yes. Of course. Let’s have a look what Ebony’s got, shall we, Jackson?’

  She led him over to the kit.

  Ebony smiled reassuringly at Jackson as she knelt to his eye level. She looked up at Tracy.

  ‘And can you go now and change and at the same time find something for Jackson to put on? Here’s a bag.’ She stood and unpacked a large brown paper bag from her kit, handed it to Tracy. ‘Please strip carefully down to your underwear and place all your clothes in this bag.’ Tracy looked as though she was going to say something but changed her mind; she took the bag from Ebony and left.

  ‘Okay, big man?’ Ebony knelt back down with Jackson. ‘Can I take a photo of you?’ He stared at her curiously and didn’t answer. Ebony took photos of the top of Jackson’s head and his hair. She took out a swab and took a sample of the blood in his hair. His eyes followed her. He stood absolutely still as she wiped his hands and face to pick up the tiniest traces of foreign DNA. She finished and placed the samples in labelled, brown paper specimen bags. She filled in the crime log and entered the codes from the bags and a description of what and where and then she knelt in front of him again She made a face at him and he almost smiled.