by Carla Kovach
Catching them, Jacob passed a pack to Gina and she shakily took it from him. Each of them balancing on an uneven step, steep enough to give a person vertigo, eventually managed to dress for the crime scene. With quivering fingers, Gina zipped the suit up and followed Jacob down. At the bottom, they stood on the metal plates that were placed back a little, giving Bernard and the assistant a little room to move. The splashing of the river as it hit the rocks made it hard to hear what was being said.
Jennifer appeared from the riverside with a camera.
‘Hi, Jen,’ Jacob said with a smile.
She gave him a little wave.
Gina glanced down, her eyes fixated on the body close to the bottom of the steps. She shook her head, forcing that image of Terry from her mind. There would be plenty of time later to think about that. ‘So, what do we have? Any evidence to suggest that it wasn’t an accident?’
‘Oh yes.’ Bernard pointed to the orange hoodie on the back of the corpse. ‘See that line of dirt on his back. That is a shoe or boot mark, just the one side and it’s not complete.’ He adjusted his face mask, re-tucking his beard in.
‘He may have been kicked down the steps.’ Gina’s voice crackled and she gulped. Clearing her throat, she continued, ‘It’s definitely Jordan Rolph.’ She recognised him from the camp and from his photo that was pinned up in the incident room. There was no mistaking his identity. His red hair was matted and blood had seeped from his cracked head onto a pile of jagged rocks. Body facing down; face to the side half smashed. She looked away.
‘Rigor mortis has set in too which is going to make him difficult to move. We have to hurry though, a storm has been forecast for later today.’ Bernard hunched over, above her as he spoke, blocking out a shaft of sunlight. When he moved again, the blinding light made her flinch.
With the boy’s limbs sprawled out, Gina could see what Bernard was saying. ‘Any estimate on the time of death?’
‘Between two and four this morning but I’ll let you know if I find out more later. The Home Office Pathologist is booked to do the post-mortem but it will probably be tomorrow morning now.’
‘Similar time to when Leah Fenmore was murdered,’ Jacob said.
‘Can you tell us anything about the shoe mark? Size, maybe?’ Gina asked.
‘No, not right now. It’s a partial. I may know more later when I’ve had a chance to assess it properly. From the shape, it looks like the contact was made with the right foot. See the way it curves right there.’ He pointed.
Gina felt her heart rate increasing. Another day when a parent would have to be told that their child had been murdered. Kicked to their death down a flight of steps, head smashed on a rock. Things weren’t getting any easier, they were getting harder and did this mean that the other kids were in danger or was one of the other kids his murderer? Her mind flashed to the others. Elsa’s tweets; although she hadn’t tweeted any more since being asked not to. Oscar, the boy with two personalities, the ‘yes, sir, no, sir’ persona he put on for his father and the mildly deviant one his teacher described. Naomi, the girl who found Leah’s body. Nothing was standing out about Naomi at the moment. The group of teens were all holding something back but at what cost? Would their secrets cost them their lives? The kids were up there as suspects, along with Meegan. She turned to Jacob who was making a few notes. ‘We need to get some sort of protection for the others. Call the FLO, Ellyn. We need someone from her team to spend time with each of the parents. It’s for their security but I also want them to report back with anything suspicious. Actually, we can utilise Kapoor here. I’d like her to stay with Oscar and his father. She’s got a good eye and has started showing an interest in family liaison. I also don’t trust Oscar as far as I could throw him. And ask uniform to visit Jordan’s parents first, then I want Ellyn to be with them.’
‘Yes, guv.’ Jacob stepped away from the scene on the riverbank and began making the call.
She stared at the body. Two teens dead; one boy and one girl, and another three in the group who were still alive.
Jacob ended his call and headed back to Gina. ‘Kapoor is waiting for a replacement for car park duty and Ellyn is sorting the other out now. An officer is on their way to Jordan’s home to break the news.’
‘Thank you. We’ll speak to the two women who found the body, then head back to the station. After we’ve caught up, I want to head to the Meegans’ cottage. I know officers have been driving past to keep a lookout but I want to be the one to speak to Mr Meegan again. I want to know that he was home last night. Apparently, the reporters have landed at their doorstep, along with a mob of locals with banners. I want it noted that Mrs Meegan is a vulnerable person in the sense that she’s extremely dependant on Mr Meegan. I got a sense that something was wrong in that household and that she is possibly scared of him too and that worries me. Seeing reporters along with a mob forming outside is going to scare her.’
‘Noted.’
‘How far geographically do you think we are from everyone involved in this case?’
Jacob pursed his lips and cocked his head. ‘The kids all live close by except Oscar who lives up the posh end. Naomi and Elsa live about two miles from here so it’s walkable. Oscar, about a mile in the other direction, so a lot closer. The Meegans. I guess if you walk along the river, Mr Meegan could have got here in about forty minutes but he also has a car too. Again, the Waterside Café is a similar distance away from the Meegans’ cottage.’
‘We need to find out who was doing the drive-bys and if they saw Mr Meegan’s car parked up. Hang on.’ Gina paused to think. ‘When we were there, there was a car parked around the back of the cottage, outside his back gate. He doesn’t park on the front. They wouldn’t have seen his car. Damn.’
‘Maybe one of the neighbours did.’
‘I fear that the neighbours might say anything now that his past is out of the bag but we’ll ask them nonetheless. I definitely need him brought in for further questioning. Mrs Meegan is holding something back about that night which makes his alibi shaky.’ She knew that would cause more stress for Mrs Meegan but it had to be done. ‘We need to offer some support to his wife. She might want someone to sit with her while he’s gone. I know from speaking with her that she depends on him for a lot. Maybe she’ll talk to someone else. She clammed up with me.’
Another CSI brushed past with a crime scene tent, ready to erect.
‘I guess we’d better get out of the way.’
Jennifer nodded and Bernard glanced up. ‘I’ll call when I know more.’
‘Thanks, Bernard.’
A CSI hurried up to Bernard. ‘We have something.’
‘What is it?’ He glanced over at the suited-up man.
‘A torn piece of material on one of the brambles. It looks like a piece of black cotton.’ The young man held it up in the evidence bag.
‘Brilliant. Keep me informed. We may be looking for someone with torn black clothing. I’ll add that to the boards.’ Gina began walking back up the steps, not looking back at the body. It was all getting too much and her racing heart was making her nauseous. She needed to speak to Briggs before she lost her mind.
Thirty-Five
My heart is still hammering from Frank’s return. I contain my body into the corner of the bed against the wall, cowering as I don’t know what he’s going to do to me. That’s what it’s like living with Frank. He can be docile for ages, then he can flip for no reason but at the moment, tension fills the room, which makes our situation rife for him lashing out. My racing heart feels as though it might choke me. I’m hot and prickly, sickly even but I’m also relieved. I thought one of the angry mob had got in. ‘I thought you were one of them. I thought I was going to die.’
‘Bleedin’ hell, Sandy. The sliding doors were locked. They’re not coming in. Besides, it’s gone a bit quieter. Some of them must have got bored and left.’ He peered through the tiniest gap in the curtains. ‘There are just a couple of idiots standing out there with placar
ds; one of them is your lovely so-called friend. Soon, they’ll get bored and go home.’ He unfolded the piece of paper in his hand. He must have picked it up from the doormat. ‘Bloody reporters.’
I don’t know what came over me but I blurt my question out. ‘Where were you in the early hours of Sunday morning and how did you get your scratches? I want the truth.’
‘Not you as well. You sound like the police.’
He sat on the bed, making it dip a little and I can’t help but be forced closer to him. He’s trying to deflect what I asked. I might be scared but I’m not going to drop it. ‘I heard the sliding doors open and then close on Sunday morning, in the early hours and I lied to the police. I hear things you know and I’m not stupid, despite what you might think.’ I flinch as he leans in and his nose touches mine. His breath smells sour like off food. There’s a hint of beer on his breath too.
‘You say anything to the police and I swear I will kill you. You know how easy it would be to slam you off this bed head first into something sharp and say you fell. I could make it look like an accident. Clumsy Sandy, trying to get out of bed without help or her wheelchair in place. She does it a lot. I told her she’d cause herself an injury one day.’
My bottom lip trembles because I know he means it. He has it all worked out. I know he could do it too. There’s a coldness in his eyes. He was never what I’d call ultra-loving. He’d tell me he loved me but it always sounded mechanical. Love never reached his eyes.
‘I didn’t kill her.’ He grins. His voice tells me one thing but all I see in him is a murderer.
Tears stream down my face. He’s just threatened to kill me and I’m supposed to believe what he says. I know he’s lying now. He has to be, otherwise why would he be so angry about me asking him that question? I’m not going to back down in my pursuit for the truth and if he hurts me, then so be it. ‘What were you doing out?’ He grabs my hair and seethes in my face. I feel his hot breath on my cheek.
‘Don’t you dare question me. I do everything for you. Everything. You’re pathetic, you know that? You always were needy but the accident, it made you even needier. Pathetic little Sandy. You don’t try to do anything for yourself, always relying on me. I’m sick of it.’ He lifts up my curtain and peers out. ‘Last woman standing. Lara hates you now. She hates us. You brought this on us by talking to her in the shop. I shouldn’t have taken you with me.’
I want to say, she doesn’t hate me, she hates you, but I don’t. I cry. She sees Frank and I as one so, yes, she does hate me. He’s right this time. I can’t catch my breath between sobs. I’m trapped and I want some air. My bottom lip shakes, which I know annoys Frank. He’s told me it’s ugly on more than one occasion.
‘Look, stop with this stupid grizzling. It’s the last thing I need right now.’ He pauses and leans away from me. ‘Do you want a drink? Will that shut you up?’
I nod. What I want is for him to leave the room so that I can breathe. He’s suffocating me in every way. ‘Can I please have my phone?’
‘You don’t need it. If you see what they’re all saying, you’ll get even more upset and I don’t want that. See, I do care. The things I do for you are out of love, even though you don’t understand.’ He walks back and kisses my cheek. I don’t get him at all. ‘Don’t flinch like that. I mean, do I look like a killer?’
I stare at him. What does a killer look like? I know Frank is capable of recording women while they’re in public toilets or in their own homes while they’re getting changed. I know he’s done that and he promised me that he would never do it again but I don’t trust him. Do people like him really change or do they get worse, seeking thrill after thrill, finding each time less satisfying so they up the ante? I reach into my pocket and feel for the detective’s card. What I need to do is find out once and for all what Frank is keeping from me in that damn kitchen and then I need my phone. His phone rings and he walks out of my room. I hear him moaning about having to go somewhere but agreeing to be there later this afternoon. He’s going out.
He lets out a roaring scream and I think he’s kicking one of the dining table chairs, then glass smashes on the floor. He’s losing it.
Stomping back in, he stands in the doorway. ‘I have to go to the police station in a bit. They want to talk to me again. I’m going out to clear my head.’ He kicks my bedroom door and pulls his car keys from his pocket.
‘Can I have my wheelchair?’
‘Just stay there. I won’t be long.’
‘But, Frank. I don’t want to stay here—’
‘Whatever. Oh, you can stop worrying. A few drops of rain have sent the angry mob away; it’s just your pathetic friend there, on her own. At least you can calm down a bit now. Have a nap or something.’
‘All I do is bloody nap. I’m sleeping my life away—’ He walks off.
The brightness of the day has gone and my bedroom now feels dark. I know we are due a storm this week as I heard it on the weather. It’s been too humid and now a few blasts of thunder would clear the air.
The back doors are slid open and I hear him step out into the back garden. I don’t hear the car in the distance. I expect he’s left it in another road so that he didn’t have to drive past the mob that had been at the front of the house. A smile emerges from my lips. He’s left my bedroom door open and I can’t waste this opportunity. I throw myself onto the floor and yelp as my elbow hits the wood. It’s going to be a long day but it might also finally be the day where I get my answers.
Thirty-Six
The incident room buzzed with life. O’Connor and Wyre were seating everyone. Several uniformed officers were present and Annie from corporate communications was sipping what smelled like ginger tea. Gina checked the time. She had ten minutes before they started so she hurried along to Briggs’s office and knocked.
‘Come in.’
Her breaths came thick and fast as a dizziness swept through her.
‘Here, sit down.’ Briggs came over and helped her into a chair.
Trembling, she took a few deep breaths bent over with her head between her legs. After she’d calmed down, she sat back up. ‘Sorry about that. I had to get out and I need to speak to you because I think I’m going crazy with what’s happening.’
‘Have you managed to speak to Hannah?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve tried to call her several times but she’s not picking up. All I know is she wants to speak in person on Sunday. I’m scared. I mean, who’s messaging us and who published that damn tweet? Besides, I don’t even know who would have your phone number.’
‘I’ve received another. It just says, confess. We need to find out who’s behind this before it brings us both down, especially as our tormentor is going public now.’
‘What do we do?’
‘Nothing. There’s nothing we can do.’ He began to pace before standing in front of the window. ‘I’m guessing that this person needs me or us to confess because they can’t prove anything. I can’t see how they can.’ He began clenching his teeth. ‘We sit tight.’
‘I know what I did and you know what I did. No one else knows but why does it feel like they do? You haven’t said anything to anyone?’
He turned and grimaced. ‘Really, you’re actually asking me that question. Why would I do that? My career is on the line as much as yours. If anyone finds out that I knew all along, I’m in for the high jump too.’
‘My liberty is on the line and you know what they do to the likes of us in prison. I often wonder how much longer I can live with what I’ve done. It gets harder every day.’ She bit her lip and flinched as the metallic taste of blood reached her tongue.
He walked over and kneeled in front of her, stroking her cheek. ‘We will get through this, I promise.’
With a throbbing head, she flinched as a flash of lightning lit up the room and a distant rumble came almost straight after. ‘If I was superstitious, I’d say this was a sign.’
‘But you’re not. It’s not a sign and ther
e are no such things. Put your logical head on, Harte.’
He was right but it didn’t make the thunder sound any less threatening. A flash of Terry pinning her to the top of the stairs filled her mind. The sound of thunder boomed through the house, that and her baby daughter’s piercing cries.
Gina gasped as Briggs placed a gentle hand under her chin and gazed at her, bringing her back to the moment. The past was exactly that; the past. His gaze met hers, the kind crinkles in the corners of his eyes warming her slightly as he calmly spoke. ‘We’re in this together and we’ll get through this together. Right now, we have a murderer to catch. I’ll keep an eye on Twitter and deal with the press. Get back out there and do what you’re good at. We’ll sort this, I promise.’ What he was saying did not match his expression. She knew he was as worried about the messages as she was.
Someone banged on Briggs’s office door. He stood and stepped back. Gina rubbed her eyes and sat up straight as he opened the door. ‘Wyre, we’re on our way.’
‘Great, we’re all ready.’
Gina glanced over her shoulder and saw Wyre looking at her. She smiled and stood, giving nothing away. That was the story of her life. Live a lie and keep it up. Briggs had received yet another message. She’d been targeted on Twitter. Things were looking bad and he was in denial if he thought nothing would come of it. Gina could feel it in her sinking stomach and her trembling limbs. Her day of reckoning was on its way.
Thirty-Seven
Gina followed Briggs into the incident room. Standing in front of the boards, she glared at the map with all the pins marking out the various locations. Leah’s and Jordan’s bodies were discovered quite close to each other. And everyone that had come to light in the investigation was close enough to have opportunity, which didn’t help to narrow down their list. Another crash of thunder shook the room and the strip light dipped. O’Connor’s computer screen flickered off then it began to reboot. He swivelled in his chair and swore under his breath about losing some updates.