by M A Comley
However, Jane was far more accommodating than anticipated and said she could probably arrange one for around four that afternoon.
Chapter 24
The house was terraced and looked to be in fairly good condition for a rental property. Sara approached the building, which was split into two flats, with trepidation niggling at her insides. She rang the bell. The door was opened quite quickly by a young woman with long plaited blonde hair. She had black rings around her eyes as though she hadn’t slept in days.
“Jackie Moore?”
“I am. And you are?”
Sara produced her ID. “DI Sara Ramsey and DS Carla Jameson. Mind if we come in for a brief chat?”
“Do I have a choice? What’s this about?” She eyed them warily.
“Yes, you can deny us access, but if you do, you’re likely to raise our suspicions.”
“You still haven’t told me what this is about.”
“Your flatmate.”
“Teri, what’s she done?”
“My mistake, your former flatmate, Dawn.”
Her mouth gaped open for a few moments. “Have you found her?”
Sara nodded. “Sadly, yes. Please, it would be better if we did this inside.”
She opened the door wider and led them up the stairs to the flat above. The lounge wasn’t the tidiest Sara had ever seen, but it wasn’t the messiest either.
Jackie cleared some clothes off the sofa so they could sit down. “Are you telling me that she’s dead?”
“Yes. We’ve escalated the case from a missing person to a murder enquiry. Has Dawn contacted you since she went missing?”
“No, nothing at all. She owed me rent, too. I was pretty miffed about that. Feel guilty as hell now, knowing that she’s dead. Her body, was it decomposed when you found it? Sorry, I have a morbid fascination with postmortems and corpses, always have had.”
“No. By the looks of things, Dawn died fairly recently.”
“Shit! Where has she been for the last five or six months then?”
“We’re not sure. We’re guessing that someone possibly restrained her in some way.”
“You mean she was being kept as a sex slave somewhere?”
“You have quite a vivid imagination, Jackie. What do you do for a living?”
“Nothing right now. I’m on the dole. I walked out on my last job; they couldn’t fathom me out, they said, so I upped and left.”
“What type of work?”
“I had a boring desk job at an accountancy firm as a bookkeeper. I know, I don’t look the type. It wasn’t my ideal job, but it paid the bills. I’m an artist really. Not much call for art nowadays, not the type of abstract paintings I like to create anyway.” She pointed at the wall behind them.
Sara turned to study the painting that was dark in colour and composition. “It’s really good.”
“I know you’re just saying that. I have an eye for the unusual, shall we say?”
“I can’t deny that,” Sara said, facing the young woman again. “Look, we don’t want to keep you long. We’re eager to get on with the investigation, but we’d like to ask a few questions, if that’s okay?”
“I’ll try and answer them, not that I know much. Dawn and I shared a flat but nothing else, if you get my meaning? We kept our distance as far as our private lives were concerned. Maybe if I had taken more interest in her she would have confided in me as to what was going on with that chap of hers.”
“That’s who we wanted to discuss with you. Do you know where she met him?”
“At the pub where she worked.”
“Did she mention his name? Or did you meet him at all?”
“Now you’re asking. Hang on, yes, I believe it was Matthew—sorry, can’t for the life of me remember what his surname was or if I ever knew it. No, he never came here. We had a rule that we didn’t bring members of the opposite sex to the flat, in case it caused any awkwardness between us.”
“Any idea where he worked?”
“No, sorry. That’s as much as I know about him. Except that Dawn came home with a thick lip one day. I challenged her about where she got it from. She was shifty and said that a punter at the pub had given her a thump. I got the impression she was covering for him. I’m right, yes?”
“If he’s the one who killed her, then I’d suggest you had a right to be suspicious of him. Silly girl. She should have trusted someone.”
“I told her I thought it was him and that she would be better off dumping him, but she was having none of it. Told me to stop interfering. A few days later, she went missing.”
Sara’s heart sank. “Such a shame that some people can’t detect the signs of an abusive relationship early on when it sticks out like a sore thumb to others.”
“I feel guilty that I wasn’t able to talk her out of being with him.”
“You did your best. Any idea where he lived?”
Jackie shook her head. “No, I don’t. Would he still be at the same address?”
“We have to believe he would be, no reason to suspect otherwise. Thanks for all your help. We’re going to put out an appeal through the media channels this afternoon. Hopefully it’ll prompt people to get in touch with us.”
“I hope it does. It’s wrong, if he took her life, not to get punished for it.”
“If we catch whoever killed her, they’ll be put away for years, if not life. Thanks again. Take my card. If anything springs to mind that you think I should know about, don’t hesitate to get in touch.”
Jackie nodded and placed the card in the back pocket of her jeans then showed them back downstairs.
“What do you make of that?” Carla said, once they were seated in the car and en route back to the station.
“I think, as already suspected, the boyfriend is the guilty party. Now all we have to do is try to find the bastard.”
“Are you going to mention his name in the appeal?”
“I was going to. Why? You think that might cause him to run?”
“Possibly. I don’t know. I hope someone recognises her picture; we could do with a break.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
Chapter 25
A few hours later, Sara was sitting in front of the media cameras again, appealing to the public for assistance. The story wasn’t due to be aired until later that evening, during the local bulletin after the main News at Ten slot. Therefore, Sara insisted they should call it a day early in the hope they would be extra busy in the morning, manning the red-hot phones.
She drove home, exhausted, both mentally and physically. The moment she stepped through the front door of her home, her mobile rang. Her heart lurched when Donald’s name filled the screen. “Hi, Donald, you’ve just caught me. I was about to jump in the bath,” she lied.
“I could nip over and scrub your back.”
She closed her eyes and cringed. “Maybe another time. It’s been a hard day at work. What can I do for you?”
“I thought you might fancy going out for a meal or a drink.”
She was torn between telling him to piss off and trying to let him down gently. The latter option proved to be the less hurtful and far more tactful. “Maybe another time. Being involved in several murder cases takes its toll on the mind and body. I wouldn’t be much company to be honest with you.”
There was an awkward silence on the line for a few seconds. She shuddered at the sound of his breathing. “Fair enough. Enjoy your bath,” he said abruptly. He ended the call before she could respond.
Instead of feeling guilty, she felt relieved. After removing her shoes, she suddenly realised that Misty hadn’t come to the door to greet her, which was unheard of. “Misty, where are you?” Still nothing. Sara rushed upstairs, thinking she might have shut the cat in the bedroom, but no, the bedroom door was wide open. She crossed the room and looked down at the small rear garden that was laid to lawn, but Misty wasn’t there either. She ran back down the stairs through the lounge and into the kitchen. There was no sign
of her beloved cat.
Fear planted itself firmly in the pit of her stomach. No, please, let her be all right. She craned her neck at a faint sound of meowing. She followed the noise, calling Misty’s name as she went into the kitchen, and opened the back door. Misty was lying on the back doorstep, foaming at the mouth.
Sara screamed. She grabbed her cat, locked up the house and ran out to the car. She was sitting in the vet’s waiting room, desperate to be seen, ten minutes later, tears streaming down her face while she stroked Misty. With each stroke, her cat whimpered in pain. “Please, isn’t there anyone else who can see me? I think she’s dying,” she pleaded with the receptionist.
“I’m sorry. The vet is dealing with another emergency at the moment. Hopefully he won’t be too long now.”
With that, two people emerged from the room, a little old lady who was sobbing, and a tall young vet who was trying to comfort her, telling her that she had done the right thing in letting her dog go.
Crap! I hope he doesn’t expect me to put Misty down. I couldn’t do it.
The vet saw the old lady to the door and then turned his attention to Sara and Misty. “Gosh, she looks in a bad way. I apologise for keeping you waiting. Come through.”
Sara gently cradled Misty in her arms and followed the vet into his small examination room. He tore off a roll of tissue and sanitised the table then instructed Sara to place Misty down.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. I got in from work about thirty minutes ago. She usually greets me at the door but she didn’t. I searched the house and then found her lying on the back doorstep. She was crying out in pain. Please help her.”
“I’ll do my best. She’s going to whimper as I examine her, so please don’t think I’m hurting her intentionally.”
“Okay. Just to warn you, I’m a police officer.” Sara issued him a slight smile.
“I better be doubly careful then. Hello there, Misty. Feeling poorly, are you?”
He laid his hand on Misty’s stomach. Her erratic breathing was fiercely inflating her chest. Sara comforted her, gently talking to her while the vet carried out his examination.
“Okay, I believe she’s been poisoned.”
Sara gasped despite the vet confirming what she already suspected. “Oh no, is there anything you can do for her?”
“We can try and flush out the toxins. I need to prepare you for the worst scenario—most cats don’t pull through.”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat. “Please, please try your best to save her. She’s all I’ve got since I lost my husband.” She broke down and kissed Misty on the head.
“I’ll do my best. Do you want to leave her with me overnight?”
She sniffled. “Not really. But if that’s what I have to do, I’m prepared to do it.”
“I promise to take care of her. We need to work quickly before her organs start shutting down.”
Sara nodded and walked towards the door. “Will you ring me later?”
“Of course. Leave your mobile number with the receptionist on your way out. Try not to worry too much.”
Sara did as instructed and then drove home in a daze. She contemplated dropping in to her parents’ house on the way home but decided against it. Once she was home, she made a coffee and sat at the kitchen table, staring at her mobile, willing it to ring. Her wish was granted two hours later when the vet rang.
“Hello there, it’s Mark Fisher, the vet. Misty is on a drip. She’s in an extremely sorry state; we’ll know more in the morning.”
“I can sense what you’re not saying…there’s a possibility that she might die overnight, isn’t there?”
“Try to think on the positive side of things. You obtained help as soon as you could. That will go in her favour.”
“Maybe. I haven’t got a clue how long she was lying there, though.”
“Let’s put it another way. Another half an hour, and I fear she wouldn’t be with us now, so please, don’t beat yourself up about this. You’ve done your best for her. Let’s see how she responds in the morning. I’ll ring you first thing around eight, okay?”
“Perfect, thank you so much for caring for her, Dr Fisher.”
“It’s my pleasure. Speak again in the morning. She’s in safe hands, I promise. A member of staff will be checking on her throughout the night.”
“That’s a relief, thank you.”
Sara dropped her phone on the table and buried her head in her hands. How? Why? Was it deliberate? Or did Misty pick up something from the site? Too many questions riffled through her mind that she just didn’t have the answers to.
She called it a day and let her weary legs transport her upstairs, knowing full well that she wouldn’t be able to sleep properly until she knew her baby was better. She switched on her phone and listened to Philip’s soothing voice. “Where are you when I need you the most? What if she dies? If you can hear me, watch over her tonight, Philip, she’s all I’ve got. I can’t lose her as well as you.”
Chapter 26
After a fitful night’s sleep, Sara was in the shower when her mobile rang. Quickly drying her hand first, she answered it. “Hello. Sara Ramsey.”
“Ah, hi. It’s Mark Fisher, the vet.”
“Oh. Is it good news or bad?”
“It’s all good. Misty was sitting up purring when I came in this morning.”
“Oh my goodness. I can’t tell you what a relief that is to hear you say that. I’ve been dreading your call all night.”
“I’m sure. I told you to have faith. I’d like to keep an eye on her throughout the day just in case she relapses.”
“The chances of that happening are?”
“Negligible, but I’d like to be safer than sorry. Can you pick her up on your way home from work this evening?”
“Around six, maybe half past, depending on how the day pans out.”
“I understand. Evening surgery is on until eight, so it’s up to you when you pick her up.”
“I’ll be straight there. I’m eager to see her. Give Misty a gentle hug from me. Thank you, Dr Fisher. You’ve saved more than Misty’s life, I assure you.”
“No problem. It was my pleasure. However, I believe your prompt actions saved the day. See you later.”
Sara smiled and slipped under the shower once more. She even managed to conjure up a little ditty to sing.
She drove into work, her heart feeling lighter than it had the previous evening when she’d been sitting in the waiting room at the vet’s.
“Crikey! You look rough,” Carla said, the minute she entered the incident room.
“Thanks. I appreciate the compliment. I had a rough evening, and the night was even worse.”
“Sit down, I’ll get you a drink.” Carla rushed over to the vending machine and returned carrying two steaming cups of coffee.
“Thanks, I’ll need several cups before I can function properly this morning.”
“Are you going to tell me what has happened?”
Sara sighed heavily and told her partner about the drama that had unfolded the evening before. “That’s it in a nutshell. Thankfully, Misty has survived the ordeal.”
“Bloody hell. Do you think it was deliberate?”
Sara frowned. “I’m not sure. I’m still living on a building site, so maybe she got in somewhere she shouldn’t have and lapped up a liquid she thought was water. I don’t know. I’m going to ring the site manager today to make him aware of the situation.”
“I have another theory if you’re willing to listen.”
“I’m all ears.”
“What if you were targeted by the killer?” Carla suggested, her tone deadly serious.
“You reckon? How would he know where I live?”
“Let’s be honest, your face has been all over the news. He’s only got to look you up. Maybe he followed you home without you realising it.”
“That’s a touch Miss Marpleish, even for you.”
“More like Midsum
mer Murders considering you live out in the sticks.” Carla laughed. “No. Seriously, you need to consider my theory as a genuine possibility. Glad to hear Misty pulled through in the end.”
“I hope so. I can’t wait to see her. She’s my world, and I’m lost without her sleeping on my bed at night or trying to trip me up when I walk through the door.”
“I bet. Such an awful thing to happen. What’s on the agenda for today?”
Sara held up a handful of notes the desk sergeant had given her on the way in. “We need to look through these first, see if anything new has come in from either of the appeals we’ve run. I want to chase up the lab, too. They should have some results in for us soon. It won’t hurt to give them a gentle prod.”
Carla held out her hand for the notes. “I’ll go through these and let you know if anything interesting pops up.”
Sara smiled. “Thanks. I better go and tackle the post. Hopefully, it won’t take me too long and we can crack on again. Ever get a feeling you’re in for a good day even when things are stacked against you?”
“Sometimes. Is that how you feel?”
“Yeah, as though something is going to happen in our favour for a change today.”
After dealing with countless brown envelopes, Sara returned to the incident room half an hour later to say good morning to the rest of the team and ask for an update from everyone. The phone on Carla’s desk rang as she approached her partner.
“Hello. DS Jameson. How may I help?”
A frown developed on Carla’s face, and her head rose slowly to make eye contact with Sara. “What’s up?” Sara mouthed.
“I’m just going to put you on speaker if that’s all right, so my boss can hear.”
Sara placed both hands on Carla’s desk and listened to the conversation.
“Just to reiterate,” Carla stated, “You’re related to Maureen and Ted Flowers.”
“Yes. I’m their granddaughter.”
“Okay, Mrs Lindon. Please tell us what you know.”
The woman appeared to hesitate for an instant, then said, “It’s about the appeal that went out last night, about the girl who was murdered, Dawn I think her name was.”