Broken Girls: A totally addictive and unputdownable crime thriller (Detective Bernadette Noel Book 2)

by Joy Kluver

  She walked across to the toilets and feigned going in. The answers were being read out and everyone’s attention was elsewhere. Bernie took a quick glance back at the crowded pub and then slipped through the door marked Beer Garden.

  10

  The glowing tip of his cigarette was the only clue to his whereabouts in the dark. The sounds from the pub were muffled. Bernie shivered. She’d left her jacket inside. It would have looked odd if she’d taken it with her.

  ‘Ryan?’

  ‘Yeah. Bernie, right? That’s what Granddad said to me.’

  ‘Yes.’ She drew closer until she could see him sitting on a bench. She sat down next to him.

  ‘Stan said you might want to talk to me.’

  A trail of smoke drifted out of Ryan’s mouth.

  ‘Maybe.’ He put the cigarette back in his mouth and inhaled. Bernie glanced down. A couple of stubs lay on the ground. Has he smoked those already?

  She sat quietly, just waiting. It was a technique she used in interviews sometimes. It soon paid off.

  ‘I like to ride bikes – motorbikes, I mean. Normally, on Thursday and Friday nights, I organise races up and down our private road. It’s quite narrow and full of potholes so it makes for an exciting race, especially in the dark.’

  ‘But you haven’t organised one for tonight?’

  ‘No. I’m worried he’s going to turn up.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know his name, he never said. And no, I didn’t get the registration either. The plate was filthy. But he was riding a BMW, a beast of a bike. Wish I could afford something like that.’

  Bernie was aware of Ryan turning towards her; could hear the excitement in his voice.

  ‘You know, it’s the kind of bike you feel pulsing in your chest as you ride it. It’s so powerful. The rest of us didn’t stand a chance really. Cleaned us out Thursday and Friday night.’

  ‘So he had a great bike and won all the money. How does that make him scary?’

  ‘Because of her.’

  ‘Her?’

  ‘The girl he had with him. He offered her as winnings. And I don’t mean a quick snog. What kind of bastard boyfriend does that?’

  An idea formed in Bernie’s brain.

  ‘What did she look like?’

  ‘I don’t know. She kept her helmet on all the time with the visor down. He even turned that into a game! Said we wouldn’t know if she was a minger or not but his taste in bikes should tell us about his taste in women.’

  ‘Can you tell me anything about her? What was she wearing?’

  ‘I’m not sure of the colour because it was dark and she stayed away from the bike lights but she was definitely wearing a dress and heels. I remember thinking it was a bloody stupid outfit to wear. She had a leather jacket but looked cold. She was shivering a bit but now I’m thinking maybe she was shaking. Cos she knew what he expected her to do. She was scared.’

  Bernie’s heart was racing. ‘What night did this happen? And did someone win her?’

  ‘It was Friday night and I don’t know. I left. Made me feel sick. I know most of the others did too. But at least one person must have stayed because I heard another race. They didn’t come back though. Normally we go to the railway bridge, turn round and return. They must have carried on through the woods and fields.’

  ‘None of the others have said anything to you about it?’

  ‘No. I don’t know who raced him.’

  ‘What about the man?’

  ‘Dressed completely in black. Plain black helmet with visor. Again, like her, he didn’t take it off.’

  ‘What was his voice like? Accent?’

  ‘Deep. Friendly at first but more menacing on Friday night. Not local but I couldn’t tell where he was from. The helmet muffled his voice.’

  ‘Did she speak?’

  ‘No, nothing.’

  ‘Was she there both nights?’

  ‘No, just Friday.’

  Bernie put her hands over her mouth. Her heart was leaping around now. She couldn’t help but imagine what this young woman had gone through. And was it the same young woman in the woods? It seemed too much of a coincidence for it not to be her.

  ‘There was something he said that was, well… really bad.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘He was really disappointed that most of us didn’t want to do the final race. Said it was a shame as he’d hoped to make it a regular occurrence.’

  ‘Were those his exact words?’

  ‘Yeah. He was quite well spoken. I feel really bad now. I should have come to you sooner. I saw it on the news on the TV here. A body in the woods. You think it’s her.’

  ‘I can’t comment on that. He didn’t say her name at all?’

  ‘No. He just called her “babe”.’

  Bernie went back in first. Ryan said he would follow in a few minutes. The warmth of the pub suffused her the moment she opened the door and she walked quickly to the toilets to make it look as though she had come from there. Paul was reading out a music question.

  ‘And the last one for this round is a very appropriate one really – what is dairy farmer Michael Eavis famous for?’

  Starting Glastonbury, duh. Too easy, Paul. She was almost back to their table when she froze. Sitting opposite Anderson was Alex. Anderson’s olive skin and darker, almost black, intense eyes were in contrast to Alex’s boyish good looks. Bernie had a feeling Alex wouldn’t look like a man until he hit his forties.

  Alex turned and saw her.

  ‘Bernie.’ He stood and hugged her, his lips brushing her cheek.

  Anderson stared at them, not bothering to disguise his annoyance.

  ‘I thought you weren’t going to come over,’ she said.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t but when I saw the news about that woman, I guessed you’d had a rotten day and I didn’t want you to be on your own. You didn’t say you’d be here.’ He stroked her cheek.

  ‘You actually watched the news?’

  ‘Well, Mum had it on. It was that DCI Worth you’ve mentioned before. What is it you call him, DCI Worthless? Anyway, I’ve just got here. I’m going to get a drink, do you want another?’

  Bernie glanced at her half glass of wine. ‘No, it’s fine. I don’t want to have too much tonight.’

  ‘OK. I’ll be back in a minute.’ Alex turned back to the table. ‘Anyone else want another?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Matt. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ said Kerry, ‘but I do need the loo. You’ll have to do the marking, Anderson.’ She shoved a sheet of paper in his face.

  Bernie sat down in her newly vacated seat.

  ‘So,’ he said, ‘that’s Alex.’ He grabbed a pen and started marking the quiz as Paul called out the answers, pushing down hard onto the paper.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because, I was expecting someone a little more… impressive. I mean, how old is he? Twelve? Is he even allowed in a pub? Where did you meet?’

  Bernie closed her eyes. ‘He’s twenty-six. And if you really must know, he was the estate agent who sold me my cottage.’

  Anderson shook his head. ‘Hmm. He looks like an estate agent. So he’s six years younger than you?’

  ‘Yeah. Call me a cougar if you want.’

  Anderson put the pen down. ‘Does he know about me? I don’t think he does because there didn’t seem to be any recognition when we were introduced by Matt. Kerry, on the other hand, had a face like thunder. Maybe Alex and I should get to know each other.’

  Bernie stood up and grabbed her bag and jacket.

  ‘Don’t be so stupid. There’s nothing to tell. Alex?’ He turned his head. ‘Let’s go. I’m not feeling so good.’

  She stood up and looked down at the piece of paper in Anderson’s hands. ‘They’ve got that last question wrong. Michael Eavis is the founder of Glastonbury, not a member of The Wurzels. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  11

  Friday

&nbs
p; DCI Worth looked gravely at his team. Weak sunshine trickled into the large briefing room via the gaps in the white plastic Venetian blinds.

  ‘We’re almost at the twenty-four-hour mark and we’re no further forward than we were yesterday. I only agreed to letting you go home last night because we had so little to go on. So I hope you all had a good night’s sleep because we will keep working now until we get some answers. I hope that’s understood.’

  Bernie stifled a yawn. She hadn’t slept well. It hadn’t just been the young woman on her mind. Anderson had been at the forefront. She had barely responded to Alex as he had tried to make love to her.

  ‘Not tonight, love. It’s been a shitty day,’ she had said and then turned her back.

  She had left the house before he’d even woken up this morning, in work at six o’clock to write up her notes from her conversation with Ryan.

  ‘You may have seen on the news last night,’ continued Worth, ‘that I gave a statement. We’ve had some information that has come in since which may have a bearing on the case. DI Noel, if you’d like to tell us more.’

  Bernie stood up to face the team in front of her. They all looked a little worn down even though the really hard work hadn’t started yet.

  ‘So,’ she began, ‘we’ve had an anonymous tip-off about motorcyclists in the area last Thursday and Friday evenings. One of the motorcyclists had a young woman with him. The witness reported she was wearing a short dress and heels – colour unknown. She also had on a black leather jacket and black helmet but kept the visor down at all times. The witness didn’t see the biker and the woman leave but thought they had gone in the direction of the woods, over the railway bridge and up the track.’ Bernie paused. ‘Thanks to DS Anderson, we closed that track yesterday for searching. We don’t know for certain if our body is the same woman but we need to consider the possibility that she might be.’

  ‘Or they’re potential witnesses,’ said Matt.

  ‘Exactly. But there is one more thing that suggests this may be our woman. The motorcyclists were racing. The man with the woman offered her as winnings.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ said Kerry.

  ‘It is,’ said DCI Worth, ‘especially as the witness has said the man had hoped to make this a “regular occurrence” – his exact words. Did he mean with the same girl or does he have others at his disposal? So, DC Taylor and DC Parris – back to CCTV for you. Start looking for any cameras in that area – particularly any speed cameras or ANPR – and for any motorbikes. DI Noel has the make but unfortunately not the model or the registration number. Even so, just having an image to go on will help us out. I believe the woman was only with him on the Friday evening. Is that correct, DI Noel?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘DC Hart. Dress and shoes. Where are you up to on that?’ asked Worth.

  Alice Hart’s cheeks coloured. ‘Erm, dress is from Primark. Not sure about the shoes. I’m visiting a store in Swindon this morning and just waiting for a photo from Forensics to take with me. I know it’s a long shot but maybe someone will remember her.’

  ‘Can’t you take one of the photos from the scene? We have those already.’

  Alice blushed more deeply. ‘The dress is still on the body in the photos, sir. I can’t really show that to members of the public.’

  Bernie stole a glance at DCI Worth. She couldn’t believe he had suggested such a thing.

  ‘No, of course not.’ Worth lowered his gaze slightly. ‘Chase up Forensics ASAP. We need a decent image to release to the press. DS Allen – missing persons?’

  ‘Narrowed it down to a few, sir, but to be honest, I’m not convinced it’s any of them.’

  ‘And your reasoning for that?’

  ‘Small parameters being off. Since Dr White sent me the height and age approximations, no one has fitted exactly. Originally we thought she might be in the higher end of the fifteen to twenty-nine-year-old scale but according to Dr White, her pelvis suggests otherwise so it seems she was fifteen to nineteen. Some of the women are the right height but too old, or right age range but too tall. I think you were correct, sir, when you said yesterday that maybe she hasn’t been reported yet.’

  DCI Worth slowly nodded his head. ‘All the more reason to get some information out to the public.’

  ‘The jewellery is interesting, though, the rings in particular,’ said Kerry.

  ‘In what way?’ asked Bernie.

  ‘I haven’t had the full report but the guy looking at them thinks they might be a wedding set and although it’s not impossible she’s married, she is very young. Once I have photos, I’m going to do a search, in case they’re stolen.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Worth. ‘Well, rather than wait, chase up what you need and get cracking. DI Noel, could you sort out the search team, please? DS Anderson can help you. I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.’

  While the others started work, Bernie picked up the shift list to see who might be available to join the crime scene search. Anderson tapped her on the shoulder. His face was sullen and he looked as though he had had as much sleep as her.

  ‘This “witness”, did they use Crimestoppers?’

  Bernie stepped away. ‘I’m not at liberty to tell you that.’

  ‘So, you didn’t meet this person at the pub when you went to the toilet then? Because you were gone for a while. I’d hate to think you used us all last night when we could have been here working.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I think I need to go and have a chat with young Ryan Willis. He has a motorbike.’

  She saw his dark eyes searching hers, trying to read her.

  ‘No, we’ve dealt with the Willis family for now. The DCI said you were to help with the search. Maybe you should go and lead it. Get some fresh air. A break from the station might do you some good.’

  ‘Fine.’ Anderson strode off.

  It’ll do me some good too, thought Bernie.

  12

  An aroma of coffee and sweat hung over the office. The sun was now blasting through the blinds and Bernie opened a couple of windows to get some fresh air. She was sleepy and it looked as though the others were feeling the same.

  It was getting close to lunchtime and Bernie was getting fed up playing the waiting game with Forensics. She sauntered over to Matt and Mick who were glued to the computer monitors in front of them. She hadn’t really had a chance to talk to Mick other than a cursory hello and welcome to the team. He was short and stocky with brown, curly hair. Bernie had winced at the creased tan leather jacket he had worn the day before. She liked her team to look smart and professional, not Starsky and Hutch. She guessed Matt must have said something because today Mick was in a suit, albeit a slightly shabby one. Mick looked like he was pushing forty and Bernie wondered why he was still a DC. But then she remembered he had kids; maybe he preferred to have less responsibility at work.

  ‘So, Mick, anything?’

  Mick blew noisily out of his mouth and shook his head. ‘No. DS Anderson showed us the area on Google Earth and we traced where the bikes might have gone. But there are no cameras on those roads at all. They’re all small.’

  Matt paused the tape he was looking at. ‘There’s always the possibility the bikes were wheeled back down the track as well. But again, no cameras in that area.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Bernie.

  ‘Ma’am?’ said Mick.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘If the woman was wearing a leather jacket and a helmet, where are they now?’

  Bernie thought for a moment. ‘Good question. If they belong to our mystery man then he may have taken them with him; not leave any incriminating evidence behind. Although I don’t know how easy it would have been. We’ve certainly not recovered anything like that yet but it’s something we need to look out for. I’ll text Anderson and let him know. If there are no cameras in the immediate areas then fan out and look in town. Finding this guy is number one priority now.’

  ‘That’s what we’re doing,’ said Matt. He sighed. Sh
e knew he hated this kind of work but it was essential. He much preferred being out and talking to people. He was good with witnesses.

  ‘You’re both doing a great job. I’m going to pop out to the baker’s to get some lunch. What do you want? My treat.’

  ‘Cheese and pickle sarnie, please,’ said Mick.

  ‘Hot sausage roll,’ said Matt.

  Bernie laughed. ‘I can’t guarantee it will still be hot by the time I get back. I’ll get cakes as well.’

  She turned round to see Kerry tapping away at her computer.

  ‘What do you want, Kerry?’

  Kerry carried on typing, without looking up, clearly engrossed in whatever she was doing. ‘Veggie cheese and tomato, please, in a roll. And definitely a cake too. Thanks, Bernie.’

  ‘You got something interesting there, Kerry?’

  Kerry glanced up. ‘Possibly, but not completely sure yet. I should know more by the time you get back.’

  Bernie had mistimed the lunch queue. A line of people snaked its way out of the shop and onto the pavement. Mainly office workers, and dressed in her normal black trouser suit and white shirt, Bernie blended in perfectly. She listened in to snippets of conversation from the women in front of her.

  ‘Did you see that bit on the news last night?’

  ‘What bit?’

  ‘They’ve found’ – the woman lowered her voice – ‘a body, by the railway between Pewsey and Westbury.’

  ‘Oooh, no, I didn’t see that. Did they give any more detail?’

  ‘No. Just said the body of a young woman. It’s awful, isn’t it?’

  ‘God, yes. Just not safe round here any more.’

  Bernie wanted to smile but managed to resist. This was the safest place she had ever lived in. She knew people were always more shocked in areas where crime wasn’t as common. When she had worked in the Met, bodies were found pretty much every day – suicides, accidents and natural causes as well as murder. A face flashed before her. Eyes staring as life seeped away. A teenager’s life ending before it had even really begun.