Chapter 16: Chapter 16

THIRTY-TWO

Gina led Julia Dawson and Roy Fisher down the white corridor, passing the Coroner’s office. She knocked on the secure door and made eye contact with a woman of similar age to herself, through the tiny window. She finished her sandwich as she buzzed them in, wiping crumbs from her white coat. ‘Sorry, I’m on my own at the moment,’ she said as she walked over to the stainless-steel work surface. Gina knew that the girl would be ready to present to Mrs Dawson, behind the heavy door.

‘DI Harte. I called earlier.’

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile and led them in. Roy held Julia’s trembling hand. Since leaving Mrs

Dawson earlier that day, the woman had deteriorated. Her lips had bite marks on them. Gina watched as Julia snatched her hand from Roy’s and began scratching, leaving angry red stripes behind. ‘I’m scared,’ she said as she took a step forward.

‘I’ll be here,’ Roy said as he took her hand again, preventing her from scratching any more. Gina wondered if Roy really was there for her or was just going through the motions. She watched as he fidgeted on the spot, his gaze fixed on the side of the room.

The assistant finished with her paperwork. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’ She headed down the far end, then through the door, leaving them waiting. The strip light above began to buzz and flickered slightly before finally going off.

Julia’s gaze darted up towards the ceiling. ‘It’s a sign. It’s going to be her, I know it is. She wouldn’t have gone all this time without as much as a call to me. Even though we hadn’t been getting on, she knew I’d worry. She wouldn’t do this to me. She wouldn’t!’ The woman couldn’t hold back the stream of tears any longer.

‘Look, love. That wasn’t a sign. The light is just faulty. It’s just a light.’ Roy placed a protective arm around her.

‘How do you know? You know nothing. You always do think I’m a bit stupid but I know these things, I feel it. It’s her.’

Roy went to hold her but she pushed him back. ‘You want it to be her, don’t you?’

‘Why would you say that? You’re really being silly now. I know we’ve had a bad time of it but I would never think that. Never.’

‘You didn’t like her much, nobody liked her. She was always a nuisance, always too noisy, didn’t concentrate in class. No one knew her like I did. No one else saw the sweet five-year-old I use to watch doing ballet. No one saw how her eyes used to light up when I read to her before bedtime. I know she became argumentative, but teenagers do. You couldn’t see it, Roy, but underneath all that anger, I could still see the little girl she always was. My daughter, my little girl. I just want to go back in time,’ she yelled as she broke down. ‘You must have said something to her, done something. She wouldn’t have left like that.’

‘What the hell are you accusing me of?’ ‘I know you had words.’

‘We always had words. Her running away had nothing to do with me.’

She wiped her nose and looked him in the eye. ‘What did you say to her? Something happened and I want to know what.’

Gina continued to watch as their little spat played out. Julia Dawson was convinced that Roy had some hand in Christina running away. She made a mental note to check him out, look a little further into his past.

‘You’re being stupid. Come here.’ He went to place a protective arm over her shoulders but she shrugged him off again.

The assistant beckoned them over. ‘You can come through now. Is there anything I can get you all? Water? Coffee?’

Gina shook her head and placed a gentle hand on Julia’s shoulder. ‘Are you still okay to do this, Mrs Dawson?’

She nodded as she wiped her puffy eyes. ‘Let’s do this,’ she said as she blew her nose and led the way. Roy followed closely, one hand on the small of her back.

The viewing room had been decorated to offer the relatives the calmest experience possible when visiting. The walls were a warm cream and the light was low. A sheet had been pulled right up to the girl’s chin. Julia closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Roy’s gaze searched all corners of the room, everywhere but on the girl. Julia opened her eyes. Slowly, her mouth opened and she fell into a heap on the floor, frantic sobbing turning into laughter. ‘It’s not her, it’s not Christina. Christina is still alive.’

‘Can you please pop down to the station and give a DNA sample? This would really help us in our search for Christina. It is voluntary, of course.’

Julia nodded. ‘We’ll go on our way home, won’t we, Roy?’ The man nodded as he snatched her hand, almost pulling her out of the room. His light, freckly complexion had paled even more.

‘Do we have to? After what we’ve just been through.’

‘Of course we do,’ Julia said. Roy looked away and sighed.

‘Thank you,’ Gina said to the assistant as they left. Little did Julia know that they’d already unearthed a body; another body that could possibly belong to her daughter. This body wouldn’t be as easy to identify.

Gina took a final glance at the young girl that lay on the metal slab, covered in nothing more than a flimsy white sheet, and shivered. Who are you?

THIRTY-THREE

WEDNESDAY, 18 JULY 2018

The white walls of the corridor swayed as she battled to stand upright. Each wall was so bright, Gina had to squint to see. The walk reminded her of the house of fun at one of the theme parks she’d taken Hannah to over the years. The further she walked, the more closed in the space became until she had to lie on the floor and wriggle like a worm along the shiny floor. Reaching a little door, she tried the handle. It was locked. The key, it was in the pocket of her nightdress. Sweat began to dampen her hairline as she struggled to reach her pocket. Hand touched metal. Struggling to bring the key around, she placed it in the lock and turned.

Through the door was another room. A room in darkness with a solitary spotlight pointing to a body under the sheet. Her heart pounded. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a body in a mortuary. Maybe she was at work and this was just another one of life’s challenges. After all, as a department they were constantly being squeezed. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Time to wake up. She didn’t wake up – it wasn’t a dream. She wriggled a bit further, pushing her body out of the tiny gap. Hands first, she slid out of the opening and gently landed in a heap on the stone floor. ‘Hello.’ The sound of her call echoed, eerily filling the room.

Why was she wearing a white nightdress? She didn’t even own one. Her gaze travelled down to her feet, which took on a blue hue from the light. Dirt had dried in-between her toes and mud had dried on the tops of her feet. There was no door. The only way out was the way she’d come in.

She flinched as the sheet twitched. She crept towards the gurney, her shaking hands resting on the corner of the sheet. Her heartbeat began to boom until it was all she could hear. Blood pumped through her body. She needed to escape, get outside, and breathe in some fresh air. But she couldn’t. She had to face what was in front of her. More than anything, she needed to peel back the sheet. Holding her breath, she yanked it down and began to gasp. It couldn’t be, no…

Hannah lay in front of her, decay spreading from her neck. Her pale face and closed eyes would stay with her forever. She was only fourteen. She had her whole life ahead of her.

Gina crashed onto the living room floor, catching Ebony’s tail. The cat meowed and sprang out of the cat door. Sweat poured down her face as she tried to breathe in for a few seconds, hold, and then breathe out. She was safe. She was in her house and she was alone. Breathe in and out. Slowly, her heart rate returned to normal. She took a sip of the warm white wine that was still on the coffee table, knocking the computer mouse as she leaned across. The photos of the girl in the shallow grave flashed up. The girl in the white nightdress.

She hurried to her feet and checked the back door, it was locked. Then she ran back through the house and rattled the front door, which was locked, deadlocked and chained as well. She was safe. The alarm system hadn’t been set. She quickly

set the alarm and slumped back onto the settee. After the last case, no one was ever coming into her house again and attempting to kill her.

The heatwave was killing her, messing with her senses. She pulled her T-shirt over her head and leaned back, wearing only her bra and light trousers. Using the T-shirt to fan herself, she slowly got a grip of the situation. Hannah wasn’t lying dead in a morgue and no one had broken into her house.

Her laptop screen told her it was two in the morning. Before she’d nodded off, she’d sat up, catching up with everyone’s notes and updating her own. She’d finished off the sour wine that was in the fridge and had eaten crisps and toast for supper.

Hannah. The dream. Her daughter lying dead on a slab in a state of decay. She grabbed her phone, needing to speak to her to know she was all right. As she went to press the call button, she stopped. It was the middle of the night. The whole family would be fast asleep. Someone had to make the first move or their little spat would go on forever, but now wasn’t the right time.

She wanted to cry and punch something, anything, or did she? She wanted someone to hug her, just a few minutes of security and closeness to another human being. She wished Gracie was with her. Gracie always hugged her back. She paused as she pressed another number. He always said he was there for her as a friend and she needed to talk, to hear a friendly voice, even though he had been annoying her by flaunting Annie in her face. Before she could change her mind, she selected Briggs’s number and called.

‘Briggs,’ he said in a muffled voice as if he’d just been half woken from a deep sleep.

‘It’s like the middle of the night,’ a woman said. Annie.

Gina hung up. She’d made a huge fool of herself. He’d wonder why she called and he’d wonder why she’d hung up. If it was work, she would have spoken. Her phone buzzed, she ignored it until voicemail picked up the call. She sent him a text.

So sorry. Wrong number. Sorry! See you at the station. Gina.

He didn’t reply. She felt her sweaty face redden. Grabbing the wine glass, she poured the sour leftovers down the sink. Between the wine, the heat and her nightmare, she’d been turned into some anxiety-ridden mess. Get a grip, Gina!

THIRTY-FOUR

The first rays of morning sun were highlighting the back wall, resembling bony fingers reaching through gaps in the trees outside the window, trying to touch the darkest corners of the room. Miley turned over in her creaky bed, flinching as she pulled the thin sheet off her sticky body. She wished she had curtains. Maybe she’d ask again. The sun was making her head pound. She couldn’t wait for the days to get shorter. She turned again, frustrated at being awake so early. Sitting up, she ran her fingers through her matted hair and flinched as she felt the pain of her burns, throbbing. She wiped the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand and checked them. The blistering had simmered down a little and scabs had begun to form. Maybe a splash of water would help, she needed to keep her sores clean. She stepped towards the door and pushed. ‘Great,’ she said as she went back to bed. The door was locked.

She grabbed the bucket from the corner of the room and peed. She’d have to empty it out in a couple of hours, like she did most mornings. Slopping out! A friend on the streets had mentioned that term. He’d done a short spell in prison and he had to slop out. She felt like a prisoner. There was nothing dignified in peeing in a bucket and tipping it away. With the heat, the room would soon smell.

Fiddling with her friendship bracelet, she thought of her friend and remembered the evenings they shared together when they were on the streets. Her friend became sicker, more addicted, needing more medicine and getting worse, not like Miley.

Back then, on the streets, it had been chilly and wet. She hadn’t thought how the weather would affect her when she ran away. Once damp, she’d stayed damp for days, in fact the dampness never left. There’s only so long they could spend in public loos, trying to dry off under a cold hand dryer. She shivered at the thought of being back out there now, begging.

She hugged herself as she recalled a particular incident. She’d been curled up in a doorway and remembered her heart pounding as a man climbed under her blankets. His smell was something she remembered vividly – beer. Twirling the friendship bracelet her friend had given her, she shuddered as she thought back to how close she was to being attacked. She froze as he’d fiddled with her layers of clothing until he’d reached her underwear. She felt him try to feel her from behind. She struggled, tried to reach out and hit him, but he hit her harder. Through her screams she heard someone yelling at him to get off her. Trembling, she wiped the tears from her face.

It was the girl with the straggly hair, whom she’d seen walking up and down earlier that day. She dragged the man onto the path and kicked him. Angry, he’d slapped her as he zipped himself back up. Grabbing the pint he’d left on the step, he then poured it over Miley before swearing and continuing towards New Street Station. As she sat in that doorway crying her eyes out, the girl placed a warm arm around her shoulder, whispering that everything would be

okay and that they would look out for each other. That’s how their friendship had begun.

Miley wiped a tear from her cheek as she remembered her street friend. The following day, her new friend had become her protector and teacher at the same time. They stole food from the market, one of them snatching, the other distracting. For a short while, life had become a little more fun. ‘Outside Symphony Hall is a prime spot,’ her new best friend said as they begged for money and met up with another girl. She’d been right. They’d come away with forty pounds that evening. As a newly established friendship group, they had a slick operation on the go.

Things got tougher. Shop assistants began to remember their faces and started telling them to go away. And then there were the do-gooders. It was never, here’s a sandwich, hope you enjoy. It was more, tell us about yourself and you might get a sandwich. Her friend had told her that one of the do- gooders, a man who had to be at least seventy, had asked her for sex in exchange for food. So much for doing good! She may have been sixteen but she wasn’t a prostitute and her friend had described how betrayed she’d felt. ‘Everyone has ulterior motives,’ she would always say. Her mind wandered back to the present as she felt a little tetchy, her skin beginning to crawl. She needed medicine soon, just a little dose to be able to function.

Medicine. That was another subject that crossed her mind often. Their boss said that the job would be stressful and it was. The medicine was meant to help, and it did, for a while. Miley wasn’t stupid, she knew what they were giving her was illegal drugs but she so wanted to try them, be a grown-up. Once she received a fix, nothing else in the world mattered. It

was just her and euphoria. Medicine helped her get through the hard days and the long nights. Her hands began to tremble.

‘I need some medicine soon?’ she called as she banged on the door. She held her breath and listened. She couldn’t hear any movement. ‘I’m locked in again. Do you have to keep locking me in?’ Tears streamed down her face. She knew she’d remain locked in until she paid her debts. It was nothing to do with Jackie. Her medicine was costing more than she was earning. She’d be forever indebted and she totally understood she had to pay her debts.

A few days ago, she had demanded to be let out. That time, she’d received another dose of medicine, a higher dose. It had felt like the first time all over again. ‘Where did you go, leaving me here all on my own,’ she began to sing, making up the lyrics and tune as she went along. Sliding down the door, she sat on the floor. That is where she’d wait until someone unlocked the door. ‘You never said goodbye, you never said…’ The tune tailed off. She wondered if she’d remember it. She’d like to remember it so she could work on it one day. She wished she had a phone or a tablet so that she could record these things, but she had nothing like that any more. All gone in the early days of being homeless, sold to make a little bit of money for food. Her stomach began to spasm and a hot sweat flashed through her body. ‘I need my medicine,’ she yelled, but no one was listening. Sweat dripped from her brow. It was starting again. Rocking back and forth, she clutched her stomach, hoping that the pain wouldn’t make her sick.

Jackie began to murmur. All she wanted was to have her medicine and be let out. She wanted to sit with Jackie, sing her a new song and play with her hair. She listened as the floorboards creaked in the next room as Jackie staggered across the room. A new day had begun.

THIRTY-FIVE

Gina entered the incident room. ‘The press statement has just gone out. Let’s watch it back so we’re all familiar with it, then we can talk about how we are going to handle the volume of calls that will follow. Our experience tells us this is going to be massive. Volume calls, mostly irrelevant as always. Then we’ll get the confessors, we have a list of our regulars on file. They call every time, claiming it’s them, whatever the crime.’

‘It’s started, guv,’ Jacob replied as he straightened his tie. Wyre grabbed the remote control. ‘Here goes.’

‘Go for it,’ Gina replied.

Wyre fast forwarded to the local news and paused. Briggs came on, with Annie standing in the corner, her shiny locks flowing over her shoulders. Shame washed through Gina. She needed to never call him again, unless it was to do with work. Although he’d offered to be there, it wasn’t right. He was clearly with Annie now. They’d been in a relationship, but crossing the work and friendship lines just confused things.

Briggs began to speak on screen. ‘I’m issuing a brief statement today, any questions will be answered during the detailed press conference at a later date. An investigation is underway after a member of the public found human remains in the woodland, just off Senton Lane in Cleevesford. At

present we are conducting enquiries and making an appeal for witnesses. Anyone who has any information is urged to contact us on the number that is on your screen now.’ Wyre paused the news.

‘Short but to the point.’ Gina shielded her eyes from the sun.

Briggs almost made her jump as he stepped behind her. ‘All it needed to be. I didn’t want to reveal any information about the way our victim was found. As usual, this separates the crank callers from the genuine ones. Without the pathologist’s report we don’t have an accurate timeframe, telling us when the body was buried.’

‘Right, back to it. Thanks for that, Paula. Monitor all incoming calls and just send the good ones through.’ Gina turned and felt Briggs’s warmth radiating from his torso in the hot room. ‘I think we need a couple of fans in here. It’s becoming unworkable.’

He beckoned her over to the corner of the room. A hum of voices began to fill the room, getting louder and louder. ‘Did you try and call me in the night? I wondered if something had happened.’

She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn. ‘It was an accident. I fell asleep with my phone and leaned on it. Sorry, sir.’

‘No worries, Harte.’ His gaze lingered on hers. ‘If you need to talk, you know where I am. The welfare of this department is important to me and I know you’ve been through a lot this year—’

‘I’m okay, sir, honestly. I really just rolled over onto my phone. Sorry to have disturbed you.’

‘You don’t look okay. When did you last eat a proper meal? I’ve never known weight drop off someone so quickly.’

‘I’ve been working out.’ He stared at her. ‘Okay, you know me better than that. I’ve just been busy that’s all. My clothes were getting too tight so I’ve cut down a bit.’

His serious expression broke into a smile. ‘Well, don’t lose too much more. Don’t want you getting ill on us. Maybe you can have some of mine,’ he said, laughing as he patted his belly. He wasn’t too overweight. He’s what she’d describe as just cuddly with a slight belly.

‘If I need any, I know where to come.’ Please go now, she kept thinking. Her weight, her health and her private life were none of his business. If she couldn’t be bothered to cook and mostly ate crisps, then so what? Soon, she’d be back to normal. The counsellor said it would take a while. Almost being murdered in your own home wasn’t a small thing, even to a police detective. It would take time that was all. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Thanks, sir. Please do.’ She exhaled as he left and felt the prickling in her neck and cheeks subsiding.

‘Guv?’ Wyre came running over. ‘Forensics have just called. They have all the results back from van girl’s clothing.’ Van girl. That’s what she was being called.

‘I’m on it. Pass the call through to my office.’

THIRTY-SIX

Wednesday was another day and Julia wasn’t going to waste a minute of it when it came to searching for Christina. She passed the bakery on the corner of Redditch Town Centre, filling the air with the smell of fresh coffee. Her stomach turned as she thought back to the young girl at the morgue. She hadn’t eaten breakfast and she still wasn’t ready for any, fearing she’d bring it back up.

Before he’d left for work, Roy had left her one hundred pounds on the side with a little note.

Please go out for a couple of hours, get out of the house and treat yourself. We will find her, I promise. I know I haven’t always been the best but I do love you. Xxx.

Maybe that was his way of trying to make her forget that he was hiding something. It would take more than money. She’d settle for him being able to look her straight in the eye when he spoke of Christina.

He was right about one thing. That girl lying on the slab wasn’t her daughter. Her daughter was still out there somewhere and she wasn’t giving up on the idea that she was still alive. Regardless of what Roy said, she could feel it and

she knew it. The flickering lights at the morgue had been a good sign, not the original bad sign she thought she’d felt in her gut. Tomorrow, she would go into Worcester again with her rucksack full of posters. She was going to spend this evening researching the homeless hotspots, where they were offered a meal or food, and she would speak with everyone she could. Someone had to have seen Christina. People don’t simply vanish. Maybe someone out there knew who Westley was. A description would be a start. If someone had seen Christina, he might have been with her.

She passed another charity shop and saw a homeless man sitting on the step, giving his little dog some water. She pulled a fiver from the money that Roy had left her and dropped it by him, offering a smile.

His grubby hands took the money. ‘Thank you. Bless you,’ he said, revealing his almost toothless smile.

Her hands began to shake. She had to ask. Redditch wasn’t too far from Cleevesford. She pulled the photo from her purse and kneeled in front of the man’s sleeping bag. ‘Have you seen this girl? She may be with a man, a man called Westley.’

The young man took the photo and concentrated. The little terrier nudged her arm, hoping to be petted. She stroked his nose and head. The tired dog lay down next to its owner, panting in the shade. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen her. Are you going shopping? If you leave it here, I can ask my mate when he comes by. Should be here in a few minutes, maybe half hour.’

She had many copies of that photo. It was the one she’d used when making the missing posters. ‘Of course. Can I have it back though?’ She didn’t need it back, but the thought of a stranger keeping a photo of her daughter made her shiver.

‘Of course. I’ll show it to my mate and you can take it back. I’m not going anywhere for a bit. He might have seen her, he’s a bit more switched on than me. Is she on the streets?’

Julia’s face reddened. She now felt judged by all. Did people suspect that her daughter came from an abusive family and had run away? Would this man be reluctant to say anything if he had seen her? ‘I love her. She’s a teenager and went through a funny time. Had problems at school.’ She hoped that explained things a little.

‘We’re all going through a funny time out here, except it’s never funny.’ He pulled a half drunk can of something she couldn’t quite identify from his weathered old bag and took a swig.

‘I meant, she wasn’t hurt at home. I love her and want her back.’ Why was she saying so much? Maybe she was judging herself. Had some of their arguments gone a little far with the name-calling? Maybe Christina had felt sidelined by Roy’s presence. Why hadn’t she seen the signs that Christina had been so unhappy? She hadn’t meant to be so angry all the time. Her mind wandered back to Roy. He said the right things, made the right moves, but something wasn’t gelling together well.

‘Leave it with me for half hour, an hour, maybe. Come back then. If I can help, I will. Little girls should be at home, not out here, alone.’

‘Thank you.’ She stood and left him with the photo.

She entered the Kingfisher Centre and began browsing in the shops. She passed New Look, Christina’s favourite shop. Whenever they came into Redditch, Christina had hassled her to go there before they did any real shopping. She spent ages

looking through the teen section, trying on the new ranges, even checking out some of the more adult clothes in smaller sizes. That had been a sign of Christina saying goodbye to childhood. She’d smile and wonder if one day they’d share clothes or maybe she’d end up with Christina’s hand-me- downs. She wondered if they’d always go clothes shopping together, followed by hot chocolate and cake at one of the many cafes. She passed the sale rack and began mooching through, trying not to knock all the tightly packed clothes off their hangers. She stopped when she reached the black jumpsuit. Earlier that year, Christina had begged her to buy it for one of her friend’s birthday parties. It had looked so adult with its low-cut front but she wanted her daughter to be happy. She remembered looking and realising that the jumpsuit was a part of the adult range. She wouldn’t normally have agreed to it but she wanted to put an end to their arguments. At the time she thought that buying the jumpsuit would end the tension, but it hadn’t.