Snow Kills

by RC Bridgestock

  Jen nodded. It was a cold evening and easy to make the excuse that her tears were from the cool night air. She returned her friend’s kindly kiss on the cheek. Before Dawn left Jen reached for her hand and held it for a brief moment. Dawn answered with a little reassuring pressure of her fingers. ‘He would be here if he could, you know that,’ she said. Jen forced a smile and her teeth chattered as the cold wind whipped her. Dawn walked down the steps, looking back to wave before she turned the corner and vanished into the underground tunnel. The train pulled in. A guard stepped down. He pulled out his pipe, knocked it against a wall, stretched his legs and began to walk down the platform towards her. Jen took one last look up and down the empty dark platform. With a lump in her throat, she swallowed hard and struggled onto the train with her suitcase and a crying Maisy who was rested on her hip. The guard blew the whistle. The train jolted. She stumbled into a seat with the screaming child – and a foreboding that had followed her into the busy carriage.

  Fortunately Kayleigh’s body had not decomposed and although she had extensive bruising to her mouth and nose, Dylan knew that make up would cover it, and minimise the shock that Kim and Matt were going to soon encounter. The mortuary attendant would see to this procedure before the viewing took place. Kayleigh was being prepared and her mutilated body would be carefully concealed with a starched white sheet, with the exception of her face.

  Dylan looked at his watch. Jen and Maisy would be on the train. He sighed, his face grey and serious. ‘Come on Vicky; let’s get on with this bloody awful task.’

  PC Jackie May’s job had been to bring Kim Harwood and Matt Prentice to a private room at the Hospital. She had, as instructed, only disclosed to them that the body of a girl had been found and they needed them to confirm whether it was Kayleigh.

  Dylan and Vicky entered the room and saw the sudden relief on Jackie’s face. It was the most difficult of situations. What did you say to the bereaved family? What could anyone say?

  Kim Harwood looked up. Her face was a wretched mask with shadowy holes for eyes. Painfully, for Dylan, it seemed as if Kim came to life when she saw him, as though he might offer her some hope. He nodded and when she saw his sombre expression she looked back to her hands that she continued to wring in her lap. She sat in silence, unmoving. Dylan had asked the Coroner’s Officer to attend to support the family and to guide them through what would happen. Retired policeman Geoff Painter was tall and wiry and didn’t need a uniform to look like a stereotypical police officer. The family would have many questions for him after they had identified her body and Geoff would deal with this admirably, Dylan knew.

  Dylan quietly and sensitively told Kim and Matt what had happened in the past twenty four hours without going into any details. ‘Yesterday, we arrested a man from a house in Manchester Road after we uncovered that he lied to us about Kayleigh going to his house in search of shelter. While he was in custody, our enquiries led us to another house away from the area, the home of an acquaintance of his. He has also been arrested this morning and both men are, and let me assure you will remain, in custody. While searching an outbuilding at the second address, we found the body of a young girl hidden. We believe that to be Kayleigh.’ Kim gasped and inhaled deeply before letting out a wail.

  ‘No! Please,’ she cried.

  Matt, appeared to freeze and Dylan couldn’t see him breathing, but then he saw the shock melt away and the young man stared at something in front of him that no one else could see. His face drained of all colour. Slowly everything seemed to return to normal and his eyes that were deep, dark and comprehending met Dylan’s. His mouth opened, then snapped shut. He gulped, ‘Who are they?’

  ‘It would be wrong of me to tell you now, but I promise you that I will let you know later. I understand that they are complete strangers to you and to Kayleigh,’ he said. Matt nodded.

  After a short while Dylan asked if they felt up to looking through a glass screen at the girl they had found.

  ‘There is a table behind that window,’ he said nodding at the curtained windowpane. ‘The girl we have found is on that table. She is covered in a sheet up to her neck, so all you will see is her head. She looks serene and at peace.’

  ‘I think we need to get this over with as soon as possible,’ Matt said, finding his voice. He grabbed Kim’s hand.

  They stood in front of the glass, then the drapes were pulled back. Kim let out a cry and a hand flew to her mouth. The scream ripped through Dylan’s heart and soul, bouncing off walls, ceilings and floor. It flooded the corridor and gushed like a tidal wave through the building and out into the yard beyond. Kim’s face was red, angry and contorted and then the tears came, streaming down her face as she pressed it against the cold glass. ‘Did he? Did they... rape my baby?’ she cried, her eyes searching Dylan’s face. ‘Don’t lie to me, please,’ she whispered.

  Matt took a step back and put his head back against the wall, panting, hands hanging. Geoff Painter stepped forward and grabbed him under the arms.

  ‘You’re okay,’ he said. ‘Just a little light-headed and disorientated, it’s not unusual,’ he added, helping Matt to a chair and guiding the young man’s head between his legs.

  ‘If only I’d gone to meet her that night,’ he cried a few minutes later on the shoulder of the Coroner’s Officer.

  Dylan put his arm around Kim. Her face was the colour of milk. ‘She’s safe now and nobody can hurt her any more. Just look how peaceful she is.’

  Kim was shivering, and her trembling seemed to go far beyond her power of self-control. He could hear her teeth chattering and she looked very small and frail, like a frightened child. All the days and weeks of worrying, and her worst nightmare had come true.

  ‘We were the best of friends... you know. I miss her so, so much,’ she said, struggling with her words.

  ‘I know, Vicky said. Do you want to go inside to be with her?’ asked Dylan, kindly.

  ‘Am I allowed?’ she said but made no movement. He pushed her gently forward. ‘Come with me,’ he said taking her arm. ‘She’s your daughter, of course you’re allowed. Let me show you how at peace she is.’

  Dylan opened the door and went inside with her to stand at the side of the table. Lavender oil had been sprinkled on the tired potpourri in a dish on the table and the smell was pungent. Unaware of anything but her daughter’s body, Kim put out her hand gingerly and tenderly stroked Kayleigh’s face. Kayleigh’s head was covered in what looked like a nun’s habit. Dylan stepped back and put his face closer to the glass, which reflected the ghostly flame of the candle lit in the opposite corner of the room. Kim bent to kiss Kayleigh on the forehead. ‘Mum’s here love. You’re safe now in Dad’s arms. No more pain. You’ll be safe now until we meet again.’

  How the hell did anyone cope after something as horrific as this, he wondered. The family and friends were victims too. They lived the trauma, day after day. He knew the smallest thing could trigger off a memory. They had the life sentence, not the offenders.

  Kim kissed Kayleigh once more on each eyelid, took a deep breath, wiped her eyes and then stepped away. ‘Night darling... for now,’ she said, kissing her finger tips and putting them to Kayleigh’s lips. She looked back at Dylan. ‘I’m ready now. I know where she is and that she’s safe in God’s hands with her dad,’ she said. ‘Tell me, what did my little girl ever do to anyone to deserve this?’ she added with a sob that caught in her throat.

  Jen watched the lights of the railway stations float past the train’s windows, like shooting stars low in the night sky. Maisy thankfully slept. It was a small consolation. Once or twice she gave Jen a dreamy little wet smile and, with a tissue she had used to dry her own eyes, Jen patted her daughter’s face lovingly.

  ‘I just hope they suffer,’ Kim said, gritting her teeth as she and Dylan returned to join Matt and the others.

  ‘We’ll need a statement from you, but the Coroner’s Officer will explain everything and be there for you now. Once we have gathered all the i
nformation about what took place and what is happening to the two men we have in custody, I will come and see you to go through everything with you and answer all your questions. Please don’t believe everything you read in the papers. If you want to know anything at all, contact me and I will tell you the truth. I promise you. I will hold nothing back from you – but for now, I think you’ve had enough to deal with.’

  Leaving them in the safe hands of Geoff, it was time to go back to the police station. It was late, and time for that debrief.

  ‘It’s the first time I’ve been there when the family have done an identification like that, boss. It was heart wrenching, even for me, and poor Jackie couldn’t stop crying.’

  ‘And no matter how many times you see it, it doesn’t get any easier, not one damn bit,’ Dylan said with a lump in his throat. His eyes looked glassy.

  ‘No, I bet it doesn’t,’ she said.

  ‘Go charge Norris Regan with murder, that’ll cheer you up,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Are you serious?’ she said wide-eyed.

  ‘Deadly.’ he smiled. ‘We’ve got enough evidence now. Let them know in the cells that Barrowclough won’t be interviewed again until tomorrow, will you?’

  ‘Will do. See you at the debrief boss,’ she said She left him sat at his desk and walked briskly to her work station in the CID office. She picked up her phone with one hand and ran her finger down the contact details on file with another. ‘Yvonne Best, please?’ Dylan heard her say with new vigour in her voice.

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘Just for your information, I’m about to charge your client Norris Regan with murder.’

  ‘Thank you for letting me know. It’s not a great surprise, is it? I won’t be attending tonight, but I guess I’ll see you at Court tomorrow for his appearance?’

  ‘You will that,’ said Vicky before she hung up. ‘Fait accompli!’ she said under her breath.

  The fatigued team gathered in the incident room. Dylan looked around him and saw more than one set of red, tired, bleary eyes. They looked like Dylan felt. ‘Get a drink, we’ll wait ’til DC Hardacre gets back before starting,’ he said from his office door.

  Dylan sat back at his desk, his whole being ached. He shook his head, looked down and stared at his phone disbelievingly. Jen’s dad’s car was broken down. She would be expecting him at the station.

  ‘Jen?’ he shouted into the mouthpiece two minutes later. ‘Can you hear me?’ He heard the rush of a train. The phone went dead.

  He sat with the phone in his hand for a while and reluctantly he eventually dialled the number. ‘Shaun, Shaun Turner?’ he said. ‘It’s Jack Dylan will you could do me a favour?’

  It wasn’t long before Vicky returned. ‘That felt so good,’ she said with a satisfied sigh. ‘Believe it or not, he wanted to put his bloody wig on while I charged him.’ She smiled candidly. ‘But I wouldn’t let him,’ she said fingering the papers in her hand.

  ‘Vicky...,’ said Dylan.

  ‘Okay, okay so he’s making an official complaint about breaching his human rights but...’

  ‘But, nothing, you’ve got to remain professional. How else are you going to get them stripes?’

  ‘He said he was sorry anyway... before faking another heart attack.’

  Dylan winced. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s okay. The Custody Sarg is Billy. He told him that he’d already pulled that stunt once on him and to go back to his cell – and guess what? He did without another word.’

  Dylan smiled. ‘Good old Billy Burns. Right guys and gals, ready for the scrum down,’ he shouted from his office as he walked to the door.

  ‘I know you’re all knackered. First, let me say thank you all for your efforts today, they haven’t gone unnoticed and I am very grateful for your dedication and commitment. The updates that follow will hopefully bring you all up to speed with everything that has happened. We have managed to get through an awful lot of work and tomorrow will be just as intense, so I’ll get this over with as quickly as possible and we can all hit the decks for some much needed sleep,’ Dylan said, nodding in the direction of a yawning PC Jackie May. ‘The drinks will have to wait,’ he said without emotion. ‘Norris Regan, you will be pleased to know, has just been charged with the murder of Kayleigh Harwood.

  ‘Yes,’ came the collective cry.

  Fifteen minutes later the group was disbanded. Dylan’s next job was to update the press office, to tell them that they could release the information regarding the discovery of a body which had now been formally identified as that of Kayleigh Harwood.

  ‘Not often we get such good news on the graveyard shift, Dylan. Is there a charge to be announced?’ said Claire.

  ‘You on a split shift?’

  ‘Yes, I had to go somewhere this afternoon, so I’ve been lucky enough to follow the day through with you.’

  ‘Good. Yes, one man has been charged and will appear before the Court tomorrow but we are still questioning another and he remains in custody. The investigations into him are in their infancy and continuing.’

  Jen settled into the corner of her window seat. Her arm had gone dead with the weight of Maisy on it. Would this journey never end? She reached into her handbag and took out her phone, two Paracetamols and a bottle of water. It was eleven thirty. When did the train become so warm and stuffy? she thought, as she adjusted her sitting position and loosened her clothing around her neck. There was a missed call from Dylan. The consolation – she knew he was okay. She looked out of the window and sighed. The train was passing Fratton Park, the home of her dad’s beloved Pompey. At that moment she felt suspended between two worlds. The train slowed down and stopped at the station. Jen looked on longingly. She couldn’t count how many times had she disembarked here as a child, hand in hand with her dad, to walk through the mock Tudor facade building guarding the entrance to the ground, full of excitement. A warm pork pie at half time was always her treat, she remembered fondly. She looked down at Maisy. Would she have such memories of days out with her daddy when she grew up, she wondered?

  It was time to go home. Dylan climbed into his car and let his head fell back against the headrest. He inhaled deeply through his nose and could feel the cold air filling his lungs. Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly through pursed lips, until there was no more air to expel. He opened his eyes, leaned forward, turned on the ignition and the lights guided him through the back yard gates and out onto the street. Who did the other bones that they had discovered belong to? Were they human? he wondered. He needed to get Regan and Barrowclough both remanded for Kayleigh’s murder before he did anything else, then he would speak to them again when they had gathered the evidence and he had it before him.

  Jen descended the steps from the creaking train. Her back ached and her head was thumping. The station was relatively quiet, but then it was very late. She walked gingerly, jostling her luggage and Maisy down the platform to the tunnel that led to the Wightlink terminal. A few slightly inebriated students were left on the platform, as aggressive drunks boarded the train for London. No doubt the compartment would be soon filled with beer, and some poor unsuspecting guard who wouldn’t have the knowledge or get paid enough to challenge them.

  The best thing about landing at Portsmouth Harbour train station was that the Wightlink terminal for the passenger ferry was only a stone’s throw away. Not having to venture outside meant a lot to her – Dylan had thought her journey through. A kindly guard asked if he could help her with her case. Gratefully, she accepted, and walking down the centre of the aisle she let her hand run along the railing – perhaps to steady her, or maybe just to get the sense of something textured and cool, after sitting on the train for such a long journey. She smiled excitedly at the lady behind the desk in the ticket office. There was a little girl in her yet.

  The guard wheeled her case to a handy spot. ‘Can you manage from here?’ he asked.

  ‘Maisy is heavy but the luggage...’

  ‘It’s light, I bet in comparis
on. You not staying long?’

  ‘An open ticket, so who knows,’ she said with a half-hearted smile. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘She’s been a joy to watch on the journey,’ he said, nodding towards Maisy. ‘Make your arms ache when their little and your heart when they grow up.’

  ‘Yeah, so I keep getting told.’

  ‘Enjoy her while you can, she won’t be like that for long, mark my words,’ he said.

  ‘I will,’ she said.

  Always a pleasure when she woke, Maisy was happily kept amused by the twinkling of the lights of the boats in the harbour that could be seen from the waiting room.

  Jen’s phone rang .‘Jack, at last,’ she said warmly and with relief.

  ‘It’s Shaun.’

  Jen closed her eyes and looked up to the ceiling, tears springing to her eyes. She bit her lip. ‘Wait, Jack asked me to pick you up from Ryde Pier. I’ve been waiting,’ he said. ‘What time you in?’

  ‘I thought Dad was... How did you know? Oh, never mind,’ she said crossly.

  ‘His car’s in the garage,’ he said.

  The sea was calm, and the boat was almost empty, apart from a couple of girls who giggled and sang songs from a musical they had just seen and a young couple who nibbled away at each other like rabbits, oblivious to anyone else. An older man in a beret with binoculars around his neck came to sit in a seat directly behind them. Maisy clambered over Jen’s shoulder, fascinated by the pale, ghostly green glow of the apparatus.

  ‘Night scope,’ he said to Jen when she turned to see what was delighting her daughter. ‘I study bats.’

  ‘Oh, will you be going to see the people who run the bat hospital on the Island?’

  ‘Yes, that’s where I’m heading, Sandown.’

  ‘You’ve not been to the Island before?’