In the Dark

by Cara Hunter

  ‘Shall we show Daddy?’ says the little boy, twisting to look up at her. There’s a dark pink scar on his temple.

  ‘No, Toby,’ says the young woman, her face anxious. ‘Not yet. We don’t want to disturb him. He’s happy where he is.’

  * * *

  * * *

  Oxford Mail

  1st May 2017

  OXFORD’S OWN ‘FRITZL CASE’:

  HOW COULD IT HAPPEN HERE?

  By Mark Leverton

  North Oxford residents are still in shock after the discovery earlier today of a young woman and a toddler in the cellar of a house in Frampton Road. It’s not yet clear how long she had been there, but parallels are already being drawn with the infamous ‘Fritzl case’, in which an Austrian man imprisoned his daughter for 24 years in the basement of his home and raped her repeatedly, resulting in the birth of seven children. Elisabeth Fritzl was only discovered when one of her children fell dangerously ill. Josef Fritzl had constructed a sophisticated underground prison for his daughter, behind eight locked doors, but there is no suggestion yet of any such construction in Frampton Road. Many concerned residents are already asking how the girl could have been concealed down there without anyone knowing.

  ‘It’s horrific,’ said Sally Browne, who lives nearby with her three children, ‘how could anyone do something like that and no one realise? There was apparently a social worker or someone coming to the house, so I don’t see how they couldn’t have known.’

  Other residents are also questioning the role of Social Services, and that too may have tragic echoes of the Fritzl case, where social workers regularly visited the Fritzl home and yet saw nothing to arouse their suspicions, despite the fact that Fritzl claimed to have discovered three of his daughter’s babies as ‘foundlings’ on his doorstep.

  The owner of the Frampton Road house has been named locally as a Mr William Harper, an elderly man who lives on his own. No one we spoke to had had any dealings with Mr Harper, though he was apparently seen being taken away by police earlier today.

  Neither Thames Valley Police nor the Social Services department have yet issued a statement. The girl and her child are said to be receiving medical attention in the John Radcliffe hospital.

  Do you live in Frampton Road or know anything about this story? If so we’d like to hear from you – you can email or tweet us.

  154 comments

  VinegarJim1955

  That’s what Tory cuts does for you. No money for proper care

  RickeyMooney

  Not surprised no one noticed anything – those people round there, they don’t give a sh*t about anyone else

  MistySong

  This is just awful – I can’t believe it could happen in such a quiet place. Makes you worry about all the female students living alone.

  VinegarJim1955

  But she wasn’t a student was she? Couldn’t have been – if she was they’d have been looking for her the minute she disappeared and it’d have been all over the papers. Makes me sick.

  Fateregretful77

  I used to be a social worker and I know the pressure they’re under these days. You don’t get anything like enough time to spend with clients. And I’ve also had experience of dealing with Thames Valley Police and I think they do a fabulous job. Check your facts before you start accusing people

  * * *

  * * *

  Tuesday morning. 8.45. The door is opened by a young woman in a white shirt and a cotton skirt. She makes you think of words like ‘fresh’ and ‘crisp’ and I suddenly feel rather worn and grubby about the edges. It’s happening a lot these days.

  ‘Yes?’ she says.

  ‘I’m DI Adam Fawley and this is DC Chris Gislingham. Thames Valley Police. Is Mr Gardiner in?’

  Her face says it all. ‘Oh God. It’s Hannah, isn’t it.’ She puts her hand to her mouth. ‘When I saw the news yesterday, I just knew –’

  Gislingham and I exchange a glance. ‘And you are?’

  ‘Pippa. Pippa Walker. I’m the childminder. Nanny. You know.’

  I remember her now. I never met her during the original investigation, but I remember the name.

  ‘You knew Hannah, didn’t you – you were their childminder back then too?’

  Her eyes fill with tears and she nods. ‘She was really nice to me. I never stop thinking about it. If I hadn’t been so ill she’d never have had Toby with her that day and everything might have been different.’

  ‘Can we come in?’

  ‘Sorry, yes. It’s through here.’

  We follow her down the hall to the sitting room. Sunlight through tall windows, giving over the square. More windows behind looking over the garden. Cool yellow walls. Black-and-white framed prints. Every surface strewn with toys. Teddies, model cars, a train set. And on the mantelpiece, photos. Hannah and Toby, Rob and Toby on a little tricycle, the three of them on a beach somewhere. Sunlight and happiness.

  ‘Sorry about the mess,’ says the girl, picking things up distractedly. ‘Rob’s in his study. I’ll go and get him.’

  After she’s gone I walk over to the rear window and look across. I can see the back of Frampton Road. Through the trees, the roof of William Harper’s shed is just visible. There are some large black birds pecking noisily at something dead in the long grass and four magpies skulking like assassins in the tree above. When I was a child you rarely got beyond ‘one for sorrow’, but now the bloody things are everywhere.

  ‘Blimey,’ says Gislingham, moving a stuffed toy cat and sitting down. ‘So I’ve got all this to look forward to, have I?’

  He grins, and then wonders if he’s been tactless. Everyone does that. No one knows what to say to the parents of a dead child. It should make me better at dealing with situations like this, but somehow it never does.

  ‘You’ve found her, haven’t you?’

  Rob Gardiner is standing in the doorway. His face is white. He’s changed since I last saw him. His dark blond hair used to be cut short at the sides but now he has a ponytail and one of those beards that invades your whole neck. I suppose these techy types can get away with it. But my wife would be making a face by now, if she was here.

  ‘Mr Gardiner? I’m DI Adam Fawley –’

  ‘I know. You were here last time. You and that man Osbourne.’

  ‘Why don’t you sit down.’

  ‘Policemen only ever say that when it’s bad news.’

  He comes further into the room and I gesture towards the chair. He hesitates, then sits, but on the edge of the seat.

  ‘So have you? Found her?’

  ‘No. We haven’t found your wife.’

  ‘But you’ve got a new lead, haven’t you? It said on the news. This bloke – the one with the girl in his cellar – the Fritzl bloke.’

  The young woman comes forward from the door and puts her hand on Gardiner’s shoulder. He doesn’t acknowledge the gesture. After a moment he moves, very slightly, and she takes her hand away.

  There’s no point prevaricating. ‘Yes, we are looking at a possible connection with a house in Frampton Road.’

  Gardiner gets up and walks over to the window. ‘Jesus, I can actually see that bloody house from here.’

  He turns on me suddenly. ‘How come you didn’t find this man before? Back in 2015, I mean, when she disappeared? Didn’t you question him then?’

  ‘We had no reason to, at the time. Everything pointed to your wife having disappeared at Wittenham. It wasn’t just that we found Toby there – there was no alien DNA or prints in the car.’

  ‘What about those people who said they saw her? Were they just making it up, getting off on it? I mean, there are people like that, aren’t there?’

  I’m shaking my head. ‘No. I’m sure that didn’t happen in this case. I spoke to several of the witnesses myself.’
<
br />   He’s still pacing, raking his hand through his hair, then he stops suddenly and rounds on me. ‘But this bloke you’ve arrested now – it’s definitely him – he’s the bastard who took Hannah?’

  ‘Enquiries are still progressing. I wish there was more I could say, I really do, but I’m sure you understand. We do have to be sure, and right now, we’re not. That’s why we’re here. Did your wife ever mention someone called William Harper?’

  ‘That’s his name, is it – this bloke?’

  ‘Did she know anyone in Frampton Road?’

  He takes a deep breath. ‘No, not as far as I know.’

  ‘Could she have met him through the BBC? Perhaps interviewed him – for a news story?’

  Gardiner looks blank. ‘I can check her laptop, but the name isn’t ringing any bells.’

  We went through that laptop ourselves two years ago. Every damn file, every bloody email. If there’d been a reference to Harper in there I think we’d have found it, and living so close we’d have followed it up. But all the same, it’s worth checking.

  ‘Look,’ says Gardiner, ‘the only reason I can think of why she’d have been in Frampton Road was if she’d had to park there. It gets really congested round here and sometimes that’s the nearest she could leave the car. Those houses have drives, so it’s usually a bit clearer.’

  And suddenly, there it is. The answer. That fact I always thought we’d missed.

  ‘Do you remember whether she definitely parked there that day?’ I’m trying not to sound too eager about it, but I can see from Gislingham’s face that he’s clocked it too.

  Gardiner hesitates. ‘No. But I know she definitely didn’t park outside here the night before. I had to go down and help her bring in some shopping when she got home. But I don’t know for certain where the car was.’

  I make to get up, but he hasn’t finished.

  ‘So does this – this – pervert take women and children? Women who have kids with them?’ I see the girl looking at him anxiously. ‘Is that it? That’s his “thing”? Because the news said there was a child in that cellar as well. A little boy – just like my Toby.’

  ‘To be honest, Mr Gardiner, we don’t know. It’s possible the child was born down there. But the girl is still too distressed to talk to us, so we don’t yet know exactly what happened.’

  He swallows, looks away.

  ‘Your son is alive,’ I say softly. ‘Alive and safe. That’s what matters now.’

  When we get to the front door, Gislingham says he needs to use the bathroom and the girl goes to show him where it is. We stand there, Gardiner and me, not knowing what to say.

  ‘You were on that other case, weren’t you?’ he says eventually. ‘Last year. That little girl that went missing. Daisy something.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That didn’t have a happy ending either, did it.’

  It’s a statement, not a question, which is perhaps just as well.

  ‘Don’t you have a kid too? Am I remembering that right?’

  This time I know I need to answer but Gislingham’s arrival saves me.

  ‘Right, boss,’ he says, hitching his trousers.

  I turn to Gardiner. ‘We will, of course, keep you informed about the investigation. And please do let me know if you find any reference to Harper on Hannah’s laptop. And obviously as soon as there is any –’

  ‘I want to see her,’ he says abruptly. ‘If you find her, I want to see her.’

  I didn’t want him to ask. I was praying he wouldn’t.

  I shake my head. ‘That’s really not a good idea. It’s best –’

  ‘I want to see her,’ he says, his voice breaking. ‘She was my wife.’ He’s struggling to keep from weeping, right there, in front of me.

  I take a step closer. ‘Really. Don’t do that. Remember her as she was. All those lovely photos. That’s what Hannah would have wanted.’

  He stares at me, and I will him to understand. Don’t put an image in your head you can’t forget. I know. I’ve done it. And I can’t take it back.

  He swallows, then nods. And I see the relief on the girl’s face.

  * * *

  *

  Back in the car, Gislingham yanks out the seat belt and straps himself in. ‘What do you think – is he banging her or not?’

  I start the engine. ‘You don’t even know she’s a live-in.’

  And in any case, it is two years. The poor sod deserves some chance at moving on. I know how hard that can be. Separating yourself from the past without abandoning it. Without feeling guilty every time you smile.

  But Gislingham’s shaking his head. ‘Well, I reckon if he’s not now he soon will be. She’s definitely up for it if you ask me. In fact, I wouldn’t kick her out of bed myself.’

  I put the car in gear. ‘I thought you were supposed to be a happily married man.’

  He grins at me. ‘But it doesn’t hurt to look, does it?’

  * * *

  *

  When we get back to St Aldate’s, Baxter has dragged a clean whiteboard into the incident room and is carefully transcribing the original timeline from the case file.

  6.50

  Hannah leaves voicemail for childminder

  7.20

  Rob leaves on bike

  7.30?

  Hannah leaves

  7.55

  Text to Hannah from Jervis’s PA, putting i/v back to 9.30

  7.57

  Rob’s train leaves Oxford

  8.35

  Childminder’s flatmate leaves message saying she’s ill

  8.45 – 9.15

  Sightings of Hannah and buggy at Wittenham

  8.46

  Rob at Reading station (CCTV)

  9.30

  Witness sees empty buggy in Money Pit

  10.30

  Toby Gardiner found

  When he’s finished he stands back and snaps the top back on the marker pen.

  ‘So,’ he says, turning to the rest of the team, ‘assuming she never got to Wittenham at all, where does that leave us?’

  ‘With one hell of a big question mark over all those sightings, for a start,’ says Quinn drily.

  I’ve been thinking about that all the way back from Crescent Square; all those witnesses who came forward, just trying to help. And every last one of them mistaken.

  ‘There were a lot of people up there that day,’ says Baxter, scanning the statements. ‘Parents, kids, dogs. There could easily have been someone who looked a bit like Hannah from a distance. None of them saw her that close up and she wasn’t wearing anything very distinctive.’

  ‘So this woman they saw, whoever she was, why didn’t she come forward?’ asks Quinn. ‘It was all over the press and the internet for weeks – four or five appeals for witnesses. If you were there that day and looked a bit like her, wouldn’t you have got in touch with the police?’

  Baxter doesn’t look convinced. ‘Could have been a tourist. A foreigner. Or someone who just didn’t want to get involved – didn’t want the hassle.’

  ‘Personally,’ I say, ‘I’m more interested in the dog that didn’t bark.’

  I see Erica Somer smile at that, but the others are slower.

  ‘Oh,’ says Everett, after a moment. ‘You mean like in Sherlock Holmes?’

  I nod. ‘I can easily see someone mistaking another young woman for Hannah. It’s William Harper who’s the real question mark. If he abducted Hannah off the street in Frampton Road, then dumped her car and her son in Wittenham, wouldn’t someone have
remembered seeing him? I mean, an old man alone with a baby buggy?’

  Baxter is still leafing through the file. ‘One of the witnesses mentions seeing grandparents with kids, so it’s possible he didn’t stand out. But we only asked people if they saw Hannah. We didn’t ask who else they saw.’

  ‘Right,’ I say, ‘so let’s get back in touch with the eyewitnesses and ask them. See if they remember anyone resembling Harper.’

  Quinn nods and makes a note.

  ‘OK,’ I continue. ‘We established there wasn’t enough time for Gardiner to get to Wittenham and back if Hannah was still alive at 6.50, but what about Harper – could he have done it?’

  Everett considers. ‘If Hannah left the flat at 7.30, she must have met Harper no later than 7.45. He could have found some pretext to lure her into the house, then struck her from behind. And once she was unconscious all he had to do was tie her up and leave her there. That wouldn’t have taken that long. I reckon he could have been on the road to Wittenham by 8.15, which means he’d have been there by 8.45 or so. So yes, he could have done it.’

  ‘Was Harper still driving back then?’ asks Baxter. Not much gets past him.

  ‘According to the social worker, yes.’

  ‘So how did he get back to Oxford? Without the car, I mean.’

  Gislingham shrugs. ‘Bus? He’s got all day, after all. There’s no one looking for him. No one at home to ask him where he’s been. And all the time in the world to get rid of the body.’

  ‘After he’d finished with her,’ says Everett darkly. ‘He could have kept her alive for days, for all we know.’

  ‘There’s still an issue, though, isn’t there, sir?’ Somer this time. ‘There was no unexplained DNA in Hannah’s car. I suppose this man Harper could have driven it and left no trace, but that’s not easy.’