‘What have I done to deserve this?’ asked Martin.
‘It’s alright, Dad, I’m only kidding. Nadia’s going to help me with the dinner. It’ll be ready in about half an hour, okay? Now kindly leave us alone to get on with our work.’
Sophie and Martin dutifully returned to the lounge, a little shell-shocked. The sound of giggles drifted in from the kitchen.
‘How did you and I manage to create that girl?’ asked Martin.
‘Maybe there was a full moon on the night in question. I can’t think of any other explanation. But I tell you what, I feel a whole lot more cheerful than when I first came home. She does wonders for my mood. And she’s looking after Nadia so well. That cheerful prattle is just what the girl needs, and no one could do it better than Jade. In fact, I’m not sure anyone else could do it at all. We’re all treating her with kid gloves, and maybe all she needs at the moment is light-hearted chatter with someone her own age. Jade seemed to know that instinctively. I keep thinking that I might have underestimated her, you know.’
‘One of the staff from her place was across at my school today. He looked at me in amazement when he found out who I was. “But you seem so normal,” was his first comment. Apparently Jade did a song and dance routine at school assembly which brought the house down. Everyone loved it apart from the head, who thought it lacked a moral message. Jade told him that it did have a message — have a good time. He added that she is far and away the brightest kid in her year, so we must be doing something right.’
‘So that was the reason for all the thumping from her room. Do you think we should ask her about it?’
‘Probably better not to. We don’t want her to think we’re spying on her.’
Sophie’s mobile phone rang. She told Martin what Mark Benson had said.
‘Rohypnol traces in her blood. We’d guessed that they’d used something like that on the girls.’
‘What do you plan to do with her for the next few days?’
‘She’ll be coming into the station with me tomorrow, and possibly Saturday morning. I may ask Lydia to look after her on Sunday if we go to Gloucester. They might have to stay here if she’s still fragile. Is that okay?’
‘I’ve no objection as long as she’s with someone you trust. Remember that we don’t really know her, Sophie. We don’t know what she was like back in Romania. We don’t know anything about her family.’
‘We’ll be pursuing all of that tomorrow. I’ll make some more decisions then.’ She paused. ‘By the way, I phoned Archie today and reassured him that I was alright.’
‘And did he believe you?’
‘Not really. He’s like you. You can both see below the surface.’
* * *
As Sophie expected, Nadia’s next interview was far less draining. She went into the girl’s family and social background, and then the contact that had lured her away from her college course. Sophie wanted as much detail as possible so that she could alert the Romanian authorities. The girl described the other young women who had been brought across to England with her. She was worried for their safety, particularly the youngest of the group, a sixteen-year-old called Sorina with whom she had formed a close friendship. Sorina had been an only child in her home country and had been lured away from a job in a hotel restaurant with the promise of formal training as a chef in the UK. According to Nadia the girl had spent most of the journey in terrified silence and had found the ordeal at the farmhouse hard to bear. Nadia doubted whether she would last very long under the brutal treatment of the gang.
Sophie called the Romanian embassy in order to check on progress. She then arranged for Nadia to call her parents, with Mary Porter listening in to the conversation. She’d advised Nadia to keep the details of her ordeal to a minimum at this stage. After talking to her daughter for a few minutes, Nadia’s mother spoke to Sophie through Mary Porter.
As the conversation finished Sophie’s mobile rang. She heard tension in Barry Marsh’s voice and walked out into the corridor.
‘We’ve found a body at the farm.’
‘Where?’
‘One of the fields adjoins the copse and there’s a strip of rough grass between the two. The body was there. We wouldn’t have spotted it, but we had a dog with us, as you suggested. It started pawing at the ground and whining, so we started digging. Forensics are on their way. It must have been there for some time because there are weeds and stuff growing on top of it.’
‘Can you tell anything about the state it’s in?’
‘No. We stopped once we realised what we had. It’s wrapped in a rug, and we just uncovered the feet, so we can’t tell yet whether it’s male or female. The thing is, ma’am, the dog is behaving the same way in another spot. We think there might be more.’
‘I’ll be over directly. I’ll get someone here to look after the girl. Is David Nash still there at the farm?’
‘He’s gone, but the rest of his team are still here. They were about to pack up but now they’re staying around. Nash is on his way back.’
‘Leave everything until he gets there. He’s the expert, so he can decide the best way of extracting the body. And well done, Barry. It was a good idea to take the dog out of the yard.’
Sophie left Nadia in the care of Tom Rose’s assistant, and drove out to the abandoned farm.
* * *
Sophie was thankful for the dry weather. Even so, the area around the grave was beginning to get churned up.
‘We’ve kept everyone away from the site, apart from the marked path,’ Marsh told her. ‘We’ve also marked out the other area where the dog was sniffing.’
Sophie looked around. ‘It’s a well-chosen spot. That low ridge at the top of the field means it’s out of view from the farm. And the copse hides it from this side.’ She turned back to Marsh. ‘How deep?’
‘About a foot and a half. That’s when we reached the upper part of the rug. We uncovered it, opened it up and found a foot.’
Sophie had a quick look at the excavation.
‘We’ll just leave it now for forensics, but keep someone here on watch. What else did you find?’
Marsh pointed to one of the sheds. Traces of blood had been found on the floor.
‘We’ll have a chat with David Nash before he starts.’
The forensic chief was busy instructing the squad who were to extract the body. They had spread large sheets of plastic on the ground nearby, ready to receive the extracted soil, and they were erecting an open sided forensic tent. Nash greeted Sophie with a wave.
‘We’re just about ready to go. I did wonder about bringing in a mini-excavator, but if there are other graves nearby I wouldn’t want them compressed with the weight of the machinery. So we’ll use the old fashioned method. The soil’s not too heavy at the moment, so we won’t lose too much time.’
‘Are there enough screens up there on the rise to prevent Joe Public from seeing what we’re up to?’ Sophie said.
‘Yes. I’ve just walked the area, and we’re as private as we can be. Your people up on the road can keep their eyes open for anyone trying to trek over here from the lane.’
‘Well, let’s get started.’
It took less than thirty minutes to extract the first body. The rug was still intact enough to be lifted out without difficulty. Inside was the body of a young woman. She was in an advanced stage of decomposition and they could not tell her age. She was laid out on a trestle bench, and the digging team moved a few yards away to the second spot identified by the dog.
Marsh took Sophie into one of the farm buildings. They ducked under the tape stretched across the entrance.
‘In here,’ Marsh said. ‘Blood in some of the cracks between the stones. And quite a lot, from what Nash said.’
‘So this is where he was killed. If Nadia was telling the truth there would be traces of her vomit as well, probably against one of the walls. Did he say anything about that?’
‘Not to me, but he was going to get a summary to you
this afternoon. Maybe it was in that.’
They walked back to the grave site. As they arrived, one of the diggers called out, ‘found something!’
Sophie stood beside Nash and they watched the team brush soil from another rug-encased bundle.
‘Dave, were there traces of vomit found in that shed? Probably against a wall?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Someone had used farm disinfectant but we found blood between the flagstones in the middle of the floor and some traces of vomit over to one side. We’ve got a sample. It’s on its way back to the lab for analysis. You look relieved.’
‘It confirms her story, that’s all.’
By the time darkness fell, two bodies lay beside their graves. Both of them were young women. Nash estimated that they’d been buried for periods of between two months and a year. The dog showed no signs of having found any more graves, so the forensics team started to pack up. They planned to return the following day for a sweep of the area using the latest technology.
‘But it won’t find more bodies,’ Nash said. ‘That dog’s a marvel. If it hasn’t detected any more, then there aren’t any. But we have to be certain.’
The two corpses were secured in body bags and manoeuvred into the vans, ready to set off for Dorchester and the waiting Benny Goodall. Sophie didn’t envy him his job for the next few days.
She turned to Marsh. He looked devastated.
‘Have you anything planned for this evening, Barry?’
He shook his head.
‘Come up to Wareham and have something to eat with us. I have to go into Swanage to collect Nadia. You can pick up your car and follow me up the road. Martin or Jade will be cooking something, and one more won’t be a problem.’
‘I don’t know, ma’am.’
‘You need company this evening, Barry. You should be with someone who’s seen what you have. Which means me. Thank God we left Jimmy back on the road. You’re in a mild state of shock and I can’t afford to let it get to you. I don’t want you hitting the bottle either, which is what’ll happen if you’re left on your own. Please trust my judgement. We can also talk things over if we feel up to it. I’ll have to give a report to Matt Silver, and it might help if you were there too. I’ll ask him to pop over to my house. You can drive back to Swanage later tonight if you feel up to it. Or, if you want to kip down for the night, then that will be okay. Believe me, it will be better for you.’
‘Thanks, ma’am,’ he murmured.
Sophie walked outside and took out her mobile phone. She’d been dreading this call for days. She had to tell her new-found grandparents that she and her family could only visit for an afternoon. They sounded disappointed. Sophie was utterly frustrated. She knew they’d started to plan for Graham’s funeral now the remains had been released. They were all hoping that a date could be fixed for the end of the following week.
Chapter 7: Blossom
Friday, Week 1
Benjamin “Blossom” Sourlie stalked out of the block of condemned flats, slinging a small backpack over his shoulder. He hated its sour smell and the grubby, washed-up people that squatted there. He wouldn’t be seen dead in the place if it wasn’t for the monthly supply of drugs and other paraphernalia he had to pick up. He was glad when he reached the fresh air of the street outside. How could people choose to live in such filth? He shook his head, and crossed the road to a narrow lane that led to the car park. His short, squat form cast a shadow as wide as it was tall.
It was very dark. Blossom didn’t see the thin, hunched form standing in the shadows. The figure stepped out in front of him and drew a knife.
‘Gimme your fucking cash,’ the stranger snarled.
Blossom stopped walking and looked at the man who stood scowling in front of him. He stepped a little closer and slipped his right hand inside his jacket pocket as if to fetch out a wallet. Then his left fist, encased in a soft leather glove, shot out and hit the man hard in the abdomen. The man jerked forward. Blossom’s right fist came up and hit the side of his jaw, breaking it. There was a gurgle as blood filled the mouth. The stranger crashed against the wall and slid to the ground. Blossom didn’t even stop to look at his would-be assailant. He walked past and into the small car park at the end of the alley. There, he unlocked his car, slung the backpack under the front seat and drove away. He smiled in satisfaction. Who needed drugs to get high?
* * *
He arrived back at the farmhouse a little after midnight. In some ways the new place was more convenient than Brookway Farm. For a start, it was a good deal closer to Poole. The main problem was a longer boat journey inside the harbour. Brookway had been relatively close to the harbour entrance at Sandbanks. Now the boats would have to navigate right up the harbour, a distance of about six miles. There had been a suggestion that they move to the northern shore. But it was too built up and they could have been spotted, particularly now the police were on their trail.
Blossom had never understood why that lad’s body had to be put up on top of the rock. Why couldn’t it just have been dumped at sea somewhere, weighted down so it would never be found? Ricky was getting out of control. Blossom didn’t like Ricky’s sadistic streak and his hunger for the big, public show. At some point he’d have to speak up. Either that, or just up sticks and go.
He unlocked the door to the old farmhouse and went in. All was silent. He locked the bag of drugs into a cupboard, walked through to the kitchen and poured himself a beer. The kitchen range was still warm from when he’d stoked it up earlier in the evening. No one had bothered to put any more fuel on since. Lazy sods. If it hadn’t been for him and Charlie, the whole scheme would have collapsed months ago. Now, with the boss’s sporadic illness, it was beginning to look as if their days were numbered. Who would have thought it? Charlie’s nephew, Ricky, had taken over the operation but success seemed to have turned his head. Maybe Blossom needed to sit down with Charlie and spell out the problems. But how would he react? Blossom shook his head wearily. The trouble was, he and Charlie weren’t getting any younger. Ricky had started to form his own alliances and wouldn’t be easy to overthrow. Blossom had the uneasy feeling that, when it came to the crunch, Charlie would side with his nephew — and Blossom would end up floating face down out in the Channel somewhere. After all, he’d never been anything more than Charlie’s enforcer.
He opened a porn magazine and began to flick idly through the pages. Maybe he’d screw one of the girls a bit later. The others were always telling him to take one, but he’d never gone through with it. He felt uneasy about the one who’d escaped. There had been no news on the local radio or in the press about her being found. Maybe she was dead, but somehow he doubted it. She could even be in the hands of the cops by now, although he and Ricky had done a good job of cleaning the old place up. They’d left nothing that could lead the cops to this new location, and even this one was temporary. Ricky had started talking about a complete change of plan, moving much further east where the Channel was narrower, the boat trip much shorter and access to London quicker. Blossom was unsure about it. He’d crossed swords with one of the big London gangs many years before, and it hadn’t been a nice experience. He’d escaped without injury, but some of his mates hadn’t been so lucky. Muscling in on that market could prove a step too far unless it was planned properly. He doubted whether Ricky would be bothered to do the necessary homework.
He switched on the television to get the latest news before turning in for the night. There might be something about the missing girl. When the main headline was announced Blossom watched aghast. The partly decomposed bodies of two young women had been found buried on an abandoned farm near Poole Harbour. What? Blossom couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. What bodies? He didn’t know of any bodies. What the fuck had been going on when he was away from the place? He stormed up the stairs, crashed open the door to Ricky’s room, and switched the light on. A white-faced girl sat up, pulling the duvet up around her neck, her eyes wide with fear. Ricky opened his eye
s and snarled at Blossom.
‘What the fuck are you doing, you stupid pillock?’
‘You’d better come down and see what’s on TV. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.’
Blossom turned on his heel and stalked back downstairs. He was standing in front of the screen, swallowing the last of his beer, when Ricky walked in. Blossom pointed at the screen, and the headline scrolling across the bottom. “Two women’s bodies found buried on farm near Poole Harbour.”
‘Jesus,’ Ricky said. ‘They’re lying, Blossom.’
‘What do you take me for, you stupid fucker? They wouldn’t lie over something this serious. I know that. You know that. Every Tom, Dick and fucking Harry knows that. If they say they found two bodies, then they found two bodies.’ He pointed his stubby thumb at Ricky. ‘And you put them there, didn’t you? When I was off looking after the business and didn’t have my eye on you. You psycho bastard. Charlie’ll be going mental.’
Ricky looked Blossom in the eye.
‘Charlie knows. He was there. He and that crazy Romanian, Barbu. So you see, Blossom, it’s all three of us. And now you know. What are you going to do?’
Blossom heard a noise. Barbu was standing in the doorway watching them, impassive.
‘Well, I know what we have to do, and I mean we. Get away from here, for a start. Do you think for one moment that the cops won’t be looking all along the shore for us? You just had to play the cool gangster when those two cops came calling, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you just act innocent for once and not raise their hackles? I saw the way that blonde one looked at us once you’d started your spiel. She knew you had something to hide all right. They must have been back there pretty quick with sniffer dogs or something. They’ll have every cop in the area out looking for us, and this place is too much like the last one. I reckon we’ve got twenty-four hours at most before they come knocking on the door, and this time we won’t get away. They’ll bring a snatch squad and go through this place like a tornado. So I suggest we all start packing right now and get away before it gets light. And for fuck’s sake don’t let any of the girls get away this time. I’m gonna call Charlie. You two can start getting everything together and loaded into the vans.’
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