by Lisa Stone
Tinder had stopped barking and was sniffing the air. No noise came from the other side.
‘Hello? Anyone there?’ she tried again, and listened.
The only sound was the chirp of a distant bird. Tinder had lost interest, suggesting that whoever or whatever it was had gone. But what were they doing at her front door? Trying to get in? She called out one more time and then went indoors where she let Tinder off his lead. He ran around the downstairs barking and then went to his water bowl where he drank thirstily.
Preoccupied and disturbed by this last encounter, Jan quickly unpacked the freezer food and left the rest to do later. Taking off her jacket, she picked up her laptop. There was something she wanted to check. Previously when she’d looked online for information about the creatures that lived in the woods she’d searched for Animals living in Coleshaw Woods. Now she typed in Strange sightings in Coleshaw Woods.
Up came pages of websites and news articles. The top one carried the headline Strange Encounter in Coleshaw Woods. But as she read it soon became clear it was an interview with a man who claimed to have seen an unidentified flying object hovering over the woods. What she’d seen certainly wasn’t a UFO, although it could be alien, she thought with a shudder.
Jan scrolled down the pages. There were reports about a body being found in the quarry in Coleshaw Woods two years ago. The police had struggled to identify the woman as she was a stranger to the area, but the crime had been solved. She found another article about a woman, Miss Susan Pritchard, sixty-five, who’d been walking her dog in the woods when it had chased something and disappeared. While she was trying to find it, she’d thought she’d heard a baby cry and had reported it to the police. But after an extensive search nothing had been found and it was decided it was very likely a cat she’d heard. ‘It was a strange cry for a cat,’ she was quoted as saying.
Interesting, Jan thought, but she hadn’t heard a noise like a cat. She continued down the list of articles, pausing to read anything that might be relevant and explain what she’d seen.
Half an hour later she was forced to admit that nothing remotely matching what she’d seen had been sighted in the woods. Unsure if she should feel relieved or disappointed, Jan closed the laptop, finished unpacking the groceries, fed the meter and left the bag of change beside it in the cupboard under the stairs. She made herself a coffee and took it upstairs. She needed to get a move on – DC Matt Davis would be here soon and she was seeing Chris later. But first she needed to clear up the mess Tinder had made in the spare bedroom.
She went in. He had really made the most of his time in the bedroom. Many of Camile’s boxes had at least some of their contents removed. Thankfully he hadn’t chewed much. The bootee he’d brought to her earlier was a bit mangled, and Jan now saw that some of the polythene bags on the bed containing Camile’s clothes had teeth marks. Just as well he hadn’t managed to tear them open and chew what was inside!
Setting her mug of coffee to one side, Jan knelt on the floor and began repacking, hopefully returning the items to their correct box. Tinder was exhausted after his long walk and was asleep downstairs so couldn’t do any more damage. Jan would tell Camile what had happened, apologize and reassure her it wouldn’t happen again, as she was making sure the door to the spare bedroom was kept shut at all times.
In one box she found another white bootee that matched the one Tinder had brought to her. It was still partially wrapped in tissue paper, together with a small white outfit belonging to a baby or doll. Jan had no idea why Camile would have these and it was none of her business. She carefully rewrapped the bootees and outfit in the tissue paper and was about to return the parcel to the box when she saw a photograph album further down. She knew straight away she shouldn’t open it; it was personal and wrong of her to pry. But curiosity quickly got the better of her and one little peep wouldn’t hurt. Camile need never know.
Jan carefully lifted out the glossy, light-grey, professionally bound album. It was commemorative, the type that could be created online by uploading digital photographs of a wedding, party, holiday or similar event. On the front was a picture of a golden sun setting over a deep-blue sea, and beneath was the title Our Last Holiday, with a date three years before. Even more curious, Jan opened the first page and immediately saw whose holiday it had been. Camile and Chris looked back at her from a Caribbean island. How perfectly matched they were. With similar hair colouring, high cheekbones and open smiles, they made the ideal couple. Jan felt a pang of envy and wondered why they’d broken up.
She turned the pages. Photographs of Camile in her bikini on a sun lounger by the pool. Chris coming out of the sea dripping wet from a swim and laughing. He had a strong, muscular body. The two of them eating at a restaurant, climbing a mountain, sight-seeing – either taken by someone they’d asked or with a selfie stick.
As Jan continued to turn the pages it became increasingly obvious that they’d had a wonderful time and had been very much in love. So why had it been their last holiday? What had gone so badly wrong to end their relationship? Chris had admitted he’d had a relationship with Camile but had been vague. Jan had formed the impression it had been a casual relationship, but these photographs said otherwise.
She felt deflated. Camile was an attractive, confident woman who had a successful career. Chris had clearly doted on her. True, he was taking her out tonight, but she couldn’t be anything but second best. He had seen her as a lonely singleton who, having spent too much time alone, was imagining things. In short, he’d felt sorry for her, nothing more. He was probably now regretting ever asking her out.
Jan closed the album, returned it to the box, then placed the parcel containing the bootees and outfit on top. She folded in the lid and left the box where she’d found it. The shine had gone out of the evening ahead. She drained the last of her coffee, and then picking up her phone texted Chris. Will understand if you want to cancel.
But his reply was instant: Wouldn’t hear of it. Looking forward to it. Pick you up at 7. See you later, Chris x
SIXTEEN
‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ Ian asked, upset and angry. ‘I don’t understand. I didn’t think we had any secrets, and then this!’ He spread his hands open in dismay.
‘We don’t have secrets,’ Emma said. ‘Only this one. I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, but then there was so much going on with the police coming back, it didn’t seem like a good time.’
‘And now is a good time?’ he asked crossly. ‘I come home from work early to take you out, only to be told you’re not the person I married. Am I supposed to accept it just like that?’
‘I am the same person you married,’ Emma cried, hurt. ‘It’s still me.’
‘But you don’t have your father’s genes. I wasted all that time researching your family’s tree and he’s not even family!’
‘He is my family. He’s my father and I love him!’ Emma’s eyes filled.
‘But you don’t have his DNA!’ Ian said, equally frustrated. ‘You have the DNA of someone else, a donor, a stranger. You must see that?’
‘Yes, I know, but Mum said the donor couldn’t possibly be responsible for the defective gene because all donors are thoroughly screened.’
‘How can she be certain?’
‘They went to a proper clinic and all donors had their DNA checked to make sure they didn’t pass on anything.’
‘What clinic?’ Ian asked. ‘Where is it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Emma said helplessly. ‘I didn’t ask. It doesn’t matter to me. It never has.’
‘It matters to me and my research,’ Ian snapped.
‘Too much!’ Emma retaliated. ‘I know why you’re so angry. It’s because this has shown I can’t have the defective gene. You haven’t found anything on my mother’s side, you told me that, and now this rules out my father too. So it has to be you! I think you’ve become obsessed with this, Ian. Look at all these death certificates.’ She grabbed a handful and threw them at him. �
�It’s taken over, Ian. It’s ridiculous! Let it go. It’s destroying us.’
There was silence as they both glared at each other. Then Ian said more gently, ‘What happened to us was unimaginably horrible, and I have to find out what caused it. Whether I am to blame or not.’
‘We know we’re not the only couple around here to have had a pregnancy go wrong. Everyone says it’s the discharge from the power station contaminating the water that causes the birth defects. That’s what you should be researching, not us.’
‘I will once I’ve ruled out our DNA,’ Ian agreed. ‘I’m sorry for shouting. Shall we have a hug and make up?’
‘Yes, come on. I love you. We’ve got each other and that’s all that matters.’
Ian put his arms around his wife and held her close. ‘Yes, you’re right.’
SEVENTEEN
DC Beth Mayes looked up from her computer screen as Matt returned to his desk. ‘You’ve been gone ages,’ she said. ‘The boss was looking for you earlier.’
‘I’ve seen him. I’ve been to Ivy Cottage – you know, in Wood Lane in Coleshaw Woods,’ Matt replied. Beth nodded. ‘I took a call earlier from Ms Jan Hamlin, the young lady who’s renting it. She reported intruders in her garden and seeing someone in the woods.’
‘Young lady,’ Beth said, with a sardonic smile. ‘So that’s why you were gone so long – rescuing damsels in distress.’ Beth knew Matt well enough to be confident that their repartee wouldn’t cause offence. ‘Find anything?’ she asked.
‘Not really. There’s definitely something getting into her garden, but I don’t think it’s kids like she does. There were no shoe or trainer prints. She said she’d seen someone outside the cottage and running between the trees in the lane, so I had a look there, and also went into the woods at the back. There was no sign of anyone living there. I wondered if it was Bill Smith wandering again. His dementia is advanced now and he’s got lost a few times. But she was adamant the figure she saw was smaller. She’s blocked up a hole in the back hedge so hopefully that will put an end to it.’
‘Why is she living there alone?’ Beth asked. ‘That cottage is very remote.’
‘She said she needed to get away to do some thinking.’
‘OK. I can identify with that.’
‘She was asking about Coleshaw Woods. She’d been reading articles online and found some about a body in the quarry, and a baby that had been heard crying. I reassured her that both cases had been closed.’
‘Yes, I investigated the baby crying. Susan Pritchard was the woman who reported it. She was very upset, convinced a baby had been left in the woods. We took in sniffer dogs and at one point they picked up a scent, but then it disappeared up a tree, so we guessed it was squirrels. By coincidence I bumped into Miss Pritchard a few weeks ago in Merryless. She still walks her dog in the woods and believes it was a baby she heard, although she was kind enough to appreciate that we did all we could.’
Matt nodded. ‘I told Jan Hamlin if she had any more problems to call and I’d be straight over.’
Beth was about to reply when DS Bert Scrivener appeared at her side. ‘I need you two to go to Coleshaw Hospital. A body has disappeared from the maternity unit.’
‘You mean a baby, sir?’ Beth asked.
‘No, a body. Apparently, the baby was born dead yesterday, poor little mite, but now its body has gone missing. The parents are understandably upset. The hospital will hold an inquiry, but the parents want the police involved. They are with the chief executive, Antony Bridges, now, and are refusing to leave until they’ve spoken to the police.’
‘Very good, sir, we’re on our way,’ Matt said, standing.
‘Then take yourselves home after,’ DS Scrivener said. ‘It’s nearly knocking-off time, so you don’t need to come back here.’
Twenty minutes later Beth and Matt arrived at Coleshaw Hospital and went to the main reception desk. ‘Detective Constables Beth Mayes and Matt Davis,’ Beth said as they showed their IDs. ‘I understand the CEO, Mr Antony Bridges, is expecting us.’
‘I’ll call his office and tell him you’re here,’ the receptionist said, and picked up her phone.
As they waited, Beth glanced along the corridor where a security guard was talking to an elderly couple who appeared to be asking for directions. The hospital was busy even at five o’clock.
‘Mr Bridges said please go up to his office,’ the receptionist said. ‘Take the lift to the third floor and his personal assistant will meet you there.’
‘Thank you.’
Matt and Beth went to the lift sited to the left of the main entrance and pressed the button for the third floor. A few moments later the lift doors opened and a young man greeted them. ‘Hello, I’m Donald, Mr Bridges’ personal assistant. Thank you for coming so quickly. It was getting a bit heated in there. One of our security guards is with them now.’
Beth and Matt followed the PA down the corridor where he knocked on a door bearing the name plate: Mr Antony Bridges, Chief Executive Officer. The door was opened from inside by a security guard.
‘The police are here,’ the PA said, leading the way in.
The CEO was seated behind a large desk, talking to a young couple facing him. ‘You can wait outside now, thank you,’ Mr Bridges said, dismissing the security guard.
The PA left with the guard. Only once the door was closed did Mr Bridges speak. ‘This is Mr and Mrs Ryan – Grant and Chelsea,’ he said.
‘Detective Constables Beth Mayes and Matt Davis,’ Beth said to them.
It was obvious how upset they were; Grant was clearly struggling to contain his anger and itching to have a go at someone. Chelsea’s eyes and cheeks were red from crying. Beth drew over a chair so she was sitting at right angles to the couple. Matt remained standing in case quick intervention was required and Grant needed restraining.
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Beth said as she sat down.
Chelsea sniffed while Grant’s face grew harder. ‘Fucking awful the way we’ve been treated! Bad enough our kid dies, but then to get rid of her body so we can’t even say goodbye! We came back today to be told she’s gone for good!’
‘That wasn’t how I phrased it,’ Antony Bridges said in an even, slightly patronizing tone. ‘It’s regrettable this has happened and we will of course hold an inquiry. Although it will take time to gather together all the information.’ Which antagonized Grant even further.
His face bulged with anger. ‘I want him arrested!’ Grant shouted, jabbing a finger towards the CEO. Matt took a step towards him. ‘Then I’ll sue the lot of you.’
‘I understand how upsetting this must be for you both,’ Beth said gently. ‘And we’re here to investigate. Could we start by going back to what happened yesterday?’ She took out her notepad and pen.
‘You tell them! I might hit someone,’ Grant said to his wife, and cracked his knuckles.
Chelsea sniffed and took a deep breath. ‘I had a baby yesterday,’ she began, her voice thick with emotion. ‘We knew it was going to be stillborn – it was very early and badly deformed.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Beth said, looking up from writing. ‘My heart goes out to you both.’
Grant seemed slightly less riled now he knew his concerns were being taken seriously.
‘Thank you,’ Chelsea said. ‘I was prepared for it, as much as you can be. Our midwife was fantastic. She asked us if we wanted to see our baby but advised us against it. She felt it would be too upsetting.’
‘But we wanted to see our baby today,’ Grant added.
‘I understand,’ Beth said, and looked at Chelsea to continue.
‘When Grant and I went home last night we talked about our loss. I also spoke to my sister. She thought we should see the baby as it might help us come to terms with what happened.’
Beth nodded sympathetically.
‘But when we came here today we were told her body had already been disposed of,’ Chelsea said. ‘Disposed of, like rubbish.’ She pressed a ti
ssue to her face.
‘It was an unfortunate word to use,’ the CEO admitted.
‘Yes, but that is what you have done with our daughter,’ Grant blurted.
‘Is that normal procedure?’ Beth asked the CEO.
‘Sometimes, although there seems to have been a breakdown in communication here. Even if the parents don’t want to see a stillborn baby – which many don’t – we usually keep the body in the mortuary for a few days in case they change their minds. Sadly, that doesn’t appear to have happened in this case. There will be a full inquiry. I’ve already spoken to the midwife concerned. She is very upset and has offered to meet with the parents if that will help.’
‘It’s not Anne’s fault,’ Chelsea said. ‘She was lovely to us.’
‘Was Anne your midwife?’ Beth asked.
Chelsea nodded.
‘Anne Long?’
‘Yes, she is one of our most experienced midwives,’ Mr Bridges replied. ‘She acted on the parents’ wishes, convinced that as the baby was not viable they wouldn’t want to see it. Incorrectly, as it turned out. She is very sorry. We all are.’
‘What happened to the body?’ Beth asked.
‘It would have been incinerated,’ the CEO replied.
Chelsea gave a little cry and wiped her eyes.
‘I am sorry for your loss,’ Beth said again. She paused and, lowering her voice, said compassionately. ‘As it’s impossible for you to see your baby, what would you like to happen now? What could the hospital do to help you?’
‘Give us compensation,’ Grant said, without hesitation.
‘Make sure it never happens again to anyone else,’ Chelsea said.
‘That seems reasonable,’ Beth said, looking at the CEO.
‘Of course. Once our inquiry is complete, we’ll amend our procedure in line with any recommendations that are made to make sure this doesn’t happen again. We always learn from our mistakes. In respect of compensation, if we are found to be to blame, our lawyers will be in touch with Mr and Mrs Ryan.’
‘Does that help?’ Beth asked the couple.
