The Keeper

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The Keeper Page 21

by Diane Saxon


  ‘No.’ She didn’t want that. Domino was hers now until they found her sister, and if they didn’t… He’d be hers for the rest of his life. ‘I didn’t mean that, but he’s going to need a lot of care. I wondered if you’d change your lunchtime. Take a different time from mine and visit him. I can visit him too. It means he won’t be on his own too long.’

  ‘I’m not damned well married to you, you know,’ he grumbled under his breath.

  She lowered her voice to match his. ‘We’d have killed each other by now if you were.’

  A reluctant smile spread across his face.

  She touched the rough sleeve of his woollen jacket. ‘You were always better suited to Fliss than me.’ A rusty flush swarmed up his neck to pinken his cheeks and confirm what Jenna suspected. She rested her fingers on his arm a moment longer and gave a quick squeeze before she turned away, but her voice was a husky whisper when she spoke. ‘I just need some help with him.’ It strengthened as she continued. ‘The vet recommended a dog sitter, but I want him to be with people he knows, and he knows you so well.’

  ‘Yeah, I love the bugger. I planned to call in on my way home. See how he is. As long as he doesn’t insist on sitting on my knee and sharing my bacon sandwich. I’m through with that,’ Mason grumbled as he took his seat again.

  Frank kept his head down, absorbed in his own work, but Adrian’s cool observation never escaped her. His gaze held hers for just a moment longer than was comfortable before she glanced at Ryan.

  ‘So,’ she persuaded herself to ignore Adrian’s attention while she recapped. ‘You think this woman fell and broke her neck as well? For some reason, she was running naked on a freeze-your-ass-off October night through the woods. It’s absurd.’

  ‘You never know.’ Mason leapt to Ryan’s defence, already his champion it appeared.

  ‘But I thought the examiner confirmed she’d been dead for between sixteen and twenty hours,’ DI Taylor challenged.

  ‘Yeah.’

  DI Taylor crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the board, shaking his head. ‘Which would place her there in the middle of the previous night.’

  ‘I figured that, too.’ Ryan nodded with enthusiasm.

  ‘So why, then, would her chaser be there the following evening after she had been already dead for some time?’ Jenna insisted. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Maybe he was looking for her. Maybe he’d hidden her there, so he could come back for her for some reason. Maybe he was interrupted when it first happened.’ Jenna wondered if Ryan was going off into the realms of fantasy, but she had no other possible explanation to offer. His take was as reasonable as any other scenario she could think of.

  ‘Maybe he wasn’t her chaser and the whole damned thing is some weird coincidence we’ll never figure out,’ Frank muttered.

  Ryan shook his head, came to his feet and strutted across to the board, his scrawny neck swivelling within the wide collar of his ill-fitting shirt. ‘No. Dad…’ He coughed. ‘Forensics say she fell all the way from top to bottom, there’s evidence further up where her fall started. They found traces of her skin, blood and hair. She wasn’t moved far from where she finally came to rest. Possibly dragged a couple of feet, so she was hidden under the archway.’

  Jenna circled around Mason’s chair to rest her backside on the desk while she studied the board, sideways on to Adrian. ‘Naked female falls all the way down the Gorge. No one hears her.’

  ‘Her neck may have been broken quickly,’ Mason suggested.

  ‘Possibly, but if I slipped, the first thing out of my mouth would be a scream.’ She waggled her finger at Ryan to stop him bursting out with another comment, before she pointed at the board. ‘Which is what happened when Fliss fell. She shouted Domino’s name when he went down, which is why Molly’s mum…’ She clicked her fingers. ‘Dina Whitby recognised the voice. Then Fliss screamed. According to the twilight walkers,’ Jenna punched her finger on the photograph of the hillside, ‘the scream went on, all the way to the bottom of the hill.’

  At their nods of agreement, Jenna carried on. ‘Fliss rolled into the naked body.’ She tapped her sister’s photograph, then the picture of the dead woman. It made sense. ‘And the man, whoever he is, grabbed Fliss and took her away.’

  Her stomach clenched, and hot bile rose in her throat as the thought struck her that she was dispassionately talking about her own sister. She swallowed it down. It was the only way she could be of any help.

  ‘Why?’ She glanced from DI Taylor, to Ryan to Mason to Frank, taking in Adrian’s interest.

  ‘Because your sister discovered the body.’ Ryan’s answer was so obvious, but there was a missing link, missing hours.

  ‘Why was the body there? Why was he looking for it? If he’d committed a crime, why would he come back? Why not just leave it to chance that the body would never be found?’ Jenna might as well push Ryan’s enquiring mind and maybe spark something in her own, or Mason’s, which would help.

  ‘Because it’s always the bloody dog walker who discovers the body.’

  ‘Because,’ at the sound of Mason’s deep tones, Jenna turned to listen to him, ‘he’d abused her. Held her prisoner for some considerable time, from the sounds of the amount of injuries she sustained. She escaped one night, ran through the woods, naked. She fell and broke her neck, or he broke her neck and pushed her. He had to leave her for some reason. Maybe he couldn’t carry her. He needed transport. He’d followed her on foot and had to get back before someone noticed he was missing.’ Adrian rose to his feet, his attention on the photograph of the victim. ‘But he panicked for some reason and came back to the scene to retrieve the body. What if he believed she could be identified? He’d need to dispose of her body. She may have been reasonably well hidden, but her body was near the main path and, as Ryan pointed out, it’s always the dog walker who discovers the body. Perhaps that’s what he was afraid of. Once the stench of the corpse became obvious, she’d be discovered. And she wore a wedding ring with an engraving on it.’

  Adrian peered over her shoulder at the photograph. ‘So, he went back for the ring. And now he has your sister – as a replacement?’

  Her heart quailed at his words. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. It was all too much. Her legs weakened, and she melted into a nearby chair, unable to make it to her own. Her hand came up to cover her mouth. ‘Dear God.’

  Mason squatted at her side, placed one large hand on her knee. ‘No, I’m sure that’s not it.’

  She nodded. ‘I think he’s right. I think Adrian may be right. The man came back for the woman, his victim. Whether he murdered her or not, she has to have been his victim, and Fliss and Domino were there. There’s the coincidence. I know in law we don’t like them, but just once in a blue moon we get them.’ She surged to her feet to study the pictures of the surrounding area. ‘Fliss.’ She closed her eyes and concentrated on centring herself. ‘Of course, it would be Fliss. If there’s danger in the offing, she’ll be there. She’s always been in the thick of things. Why wouldn’t she just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, with her crazy Dalmatian?’

  ‘He’s not crazy. He’s a bloody lovely dog.’

  She whirled around and flashed Mason a grin. ‘Great, then you’ll have no objection to helping me look after him until we find Fliss.’

  He smiled back and flung an arm around her shoulder to give her a quick squeeze. ‘You got me. Now it’s time to go.’

  DI Taylor closed the manila file he’d been studying and looked up. ‘I agree, we’ve done as much as we can tonight, and we all need some rest to clear our minds. Night shift have their instructions and I’ll be skinning someone alive, just as soon as I find out who our press informant is.’

  As they walked to the incident room door, Mason cast a look over his shoulder at the young PC. ‘Come on, lad. You’ve done well today. It’s time to go home and get some hot food in your stomach. Night, Frank.’ He nodded at DI Taylor. ‘Goodnight, sir
. Adrian, are you off home now?’

  Adrian closed his tablet and came to his feet with indolent casualness, but his gaze never left Jenna. ‘Yeah. Time to go home. Night, DI Taylor, Frank.’

  Mason opened the door and waved Jenna through first.

  ‘G’night sir, goodnight Frank.’ She tossed over her shoulder as she walked through.

  Frank grunted, keeping his head down as they left.

  Hot food. The last thing she wanted and first thing she needed. Her stomach growled in protest as she made her way to her office to collect her coat. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll be in by nine, I need to check on Domino again first.’

  ‘Will you see him tonight?’ Mason enquired.

  She glanced at her watch. ‘Yeah, I’ll check on him on my way home again.’

  ‘I’ll probably see you there.’

  Behind her, DI Taylor’s radio burst out a scratchy buzz followed by an excited voice. ‘DI Taylor, this is PC Donna McGuire.’

  DI Taylor put his lips close to the Airwaves radio as he bumped through the doorway into the stairwell behind Jenna, Mason and Ryan. ‘Go ahead, Donna.’

  ‘I’ve been requested to inform you that SOCO have made a discovery at the crime scene at Ironbridge, sir.’

  Jenna stopped four steps down and swivelled on her heel. She stared up at DI Taylor above her on the landing.

  ‘What kind of discovery, Donna?’

  Static echoed down the long stairwell.

  ‘A baby’s body, sir.’

  26

  Monday 29 October, 22:45 hrs

  Rain and misery poured down on their heads as they stood in a semicircle dressed in the pale blue PPE Donna had issued them with as they arrived on site.

  DI Taylor and Mason flanked Jenna, their wide shoulders providing a little protection from the elements. Adrian stepped in close behind as they all peered up into the railway tunnel as Jim Downey crawled tentatively back out.

  He gained his feet and turned to face them while he shook off the mud caked on his hands before he addressed them.

  ‘Bloody awful situation.’ He peeled off the first layer of gloves and dumped them in a temporary bin, leaving a second, clean layer underneath. ‘I can’t tell you much. I’m sorry.’ His face drawn, Jim look around the group of observers. ‘We’d removed the Jane Doe and climbed higher into the tunnel to check if there were any further traces of evidence. It’s muddy up there, but there was a patch of earth that was softer than the rest. Felt like it had been disturbed. So, we started to dig.’

  Jenna took a step forward and bent at the waist so she could peer through the brick entrance into the upward slope of the tunnel. A small figure dressed in PPE crouched in the darkened cavern over a shallow hollow. Without venturing further, Jenna couldn’t see clearly enough to make out the tiny body with any clarity.

  DI Taylor shuffled forward to join her. ‘Any idea how long the baby’s been there, Jim?’

  Jenna came upright and backed away to allow Mason and Ryan to take a look.

  ‘Not long, I’m afraid. Three, maybe four days. We’ll have her out of here sharpish. I can’t afford to keep the body in-situ with the weather setting in, we’ll end up having a mud slide up there and losing all the evidence if we don’t act quickly. Once we have the post-mortem, we can tell you more. Right now, my mind’s struggling to even comprehend what the hell has been going on.’

  Jenna nodded. ‘Any thoughts on the baby’s age?’

  ‘Young. Very bloody young. A new-born, maybe a few hours old. A stillbirth, possibly.’

  As Jim advanced on them, they parted to let him through. He tugged the hood from his head and blew out a breath. ‘This is not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill murder, DI Taylor. If these three events are all connected, and there’s no reason to believe in this big a coincidence, then I’m sorry to say you have some kind of monster on your hands.’

  The icy chill running through Jenna’s veins couldn’t be attributed to the weather.

  27

  Tuesday 30 October, 03:00 hrs

  Nausea rolled deep in her belly to fuzz her brain and liquefy her limbs, so she was helpless to move. Fliss rolled onto her side as the room spun in one direction, then jolted, turned and twirled the other way.

  He’d drugged her. Again. The bastard. She knew he had, but she had no idea what with. Whatever he’d used, it could be lethal. Her stomach heaved. Each time he administered the drug, she felt worse. He’d possibly kill her next time, if he was overdosing her.

  A kaleidoscope of colours splattered the walls and rotated maniacally before her eyes until she closed them in self-defence to shut out the attack.

  When she cracked them open again sometime later, it was to the mild gyration of baby pinks, interspersed with yellow. A little easier on the brain than the previous profusion of violent colours.

  A thick fog pressed down to suppress her feelings and deprive her of the capacity to formulate a single cohesive thought. With no ability to resist, she floated once more into an abyss she was incapable of escaping.

  She blinked awake. Her stomach grumbled out a protest.

  He’d left food for her. Water and food.

  She reached out, misjudged the distance and flailed her hand into nothingness before she found she could focus.

  If she could eat and drink, it may dilute the effect of the drug he’d administered. She rolled off the cot onto the floor, her already bruised knees taking the brunt of the cold flagstones to send shooting pains up her thighs.

  She ground her teeth and concentrated on the bowl in front of her. She needed the food. She stretched her tethered hand as far as she could and managed to get hold of the spoon to scoop up the congealed, cold porridge. She leaned down as far as possible, stretched her aching neck until she could scoop the food into her mouth. Relief flowed gentle and calming as her stomach settled and the tasteless porridge served to coat it with the promise of no more sickness.

  With small sips, Fliss drank as much of the water as she could, until her stomach sloshed, and she knew she’d fill the pants he’d put on her. She didn’t care. There was no one to judge her. No one would in the circumstances. Just him.

  She trailed her gaze around the place, only then realising he’d left the room illuminated when he left.

  Although not warm, the small radiator had taken the threatening chill from the room, enough so she could sit on the side of the cot without the covers wrapped tight around her to restrict her movement further.

  She chewed her bottom lip while she studied the instrument trolley he’d left behind. Neatly stacked with more pants, medical supplies, needles, vials of liquid she had no understanding of.

  Strange he’d left it, but he’d been vaguely distracted, obviously anxious to go.

  Fliss tipped her head to one side to better focus on the trolley. It made a small revolution around the ceiling and back before her vision settled again.

  Mind slow to engage, she glanced from the trolley to her shackled wrist and back again. Trolley and shackled wrist.

  She filled her lungs while she waited for her brain to clear. The trolley was too far away for her to reach, but while she stared at the handcuffs the foggy trace of an idea formed.

  If only she could move the bed nearer the trolley, she could reach the instruments there.

  She slipped to her feet, the icy floor freezing them until her toes curled up in self-defence. She focused on the bed. Aware she could only put pressure on one hand, she wavered before she grasped the iron cot with the handcuffed hand. A wave of weakness flooded her system, sending her legs to jelly until she had no strength left to brace herself to make the pull.

  She dropped to her knees by the side of the cot, breath soughing in and out of her lungs as the room swayed. Tears of frustration trailed down her cheeks. Dammit. Dammit. She didn’t have time to fall back to sleep. The man would return. He’d gleaned such pleasure in hurting her. She needed to escape. She had to get out.

  The icy stone floor chil
led her knees to remind her she was half naked. She swayed against the bed, leaned there to gain her equilibrium. Too heavy to hold up, she flopped her head onto the mattress. Only a moment. That was all she needed to get her strength back, but as the freezing numbness spread up her legs, Fliss used her remaining strength to haul herself back onto the bed. She yawned until her jaw cracked, then laid her head down on the thin pillow, just to take a few minutes and recuperate.

  Her eyelids fluttered closed and the gentle swirl wafted her off into sleep.

  Jenna blinked her eyes open and stared at the blackness surrounding her, darker than behind her eyelids. She reached out and groped for the lamp switch and banished the darkness with a golden glow of light.

  She swiped the wetness from her face. Her own pitiful sobs had woken her.

  She was powerless to do anything to help Fliss. No one would let her join in the investigation. She could watch from afar and make a few small suggestions, but she’d been banned from making any true contribution.

  Aside from knowing more than a member of the general public would be allowed to, her hands were just as tied.

  Jenna tossed the sheets back and leapt out of bed, her restless legs refusing to let her brain settle. She edged back the curtain and leaned her forehead against the cold window while she stared out at the moonlit landscape of her back garden, filled with ghostly shadows spiking cruel fingers into the darkened corners.

  The next-door neighbour’s cat slipped an elegant tightrope walk across the top of the fence, slithering down to melt into the darkness and leave Jenna wondering what had become of him.

  The same thing had happened to Fliss. She’d disappeared into the night to be swallowed up by the shadows and no amount of searching was going to peel her out of them.

  Jenna scanned the empty garden, but the harder she tried, the more difficult it became to discern the light from the dark. She dropped the curtain back into place and stepped away from the window.

 

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