by Carla Kovach
‘No worries, guv.’
‘I’ll head there right now.’ Gina glanced up and Lyndsey Saunders was hopping from foot to foot, hands buried deep in pockets as the camera dangled around her neck. ‘We need to put out an appeal for witnesses who have been here, both alongside the river and the farmer’s dirt track behind it. Also, a few witness appeal signs wouldn’t go amiss. Can you get that actioned?’
‘Straight away, guv.’ As Kapoor walked towards Lyndsey, the journalist eagerly dragged her notebook from her pocket and held her pen between her stiff fingers.
‘Do you know who the victim is?’ she shouted as Gina brushed past her. The man with the three dogs was still there, along with a small huddle of people, all trying to listen in and catch sight of the body. She paused for a moment, taking in their faces, wondering if their murderer had come to check out what was happening. ‘Who is the victim?’ Lyndsey repeated. Gina didn’t even attempt to offer her an answer as she went from a fast walk to a slow jog all the way back to the bridge. The smell of frying bacon came from one of the nearby houses making her salivate.
Kapoor’s car was tucked away in a layby ahead of her own car, just in front of the ambulance. She hadn’t spotted the man sitting in the back seat when they pulled in.
Their witness flinched as she opened the passenger side and got in beside him. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Harte. Would you mind if I ask you a few questions?’
He shook his head. ‘Will this take long? I need to be with my boys. One of them saw the body… I need to be with him…’
‘I understand and I thank you so much for waiting. I know it’s cold so I won’t keep you here long. What is your full name?’ Gina fumbled with the pages in her notebook, her fingers not complying with what her brain was telling them to do. She shook them out, hoping to get her circulation going again.
‘Michael Gregson, but people call me Mike.’
‘Did you drive or walk here?’
‘Walked. We live in the row of houses about a five-minute trek from the bridge. We walk our dog along here most days, me and the boys.’
‘Can you please just talk me through this morning, starting from when you left home?’ It was a long shot but she knew that sometimes perpetrators came back to crime scenes, even coming back to see what was occurring if the body had been found. She knew Kapoor would have taken details from all the walkers that she’d come across as a matter of procedure. She made a mental note to task O’Connor with following up on these.
The skin on his forehead creased into thick dark ridges as he concentrated on remembering everything. ‘We left the house around seven thirty. Just enough time for a dog walk before getting the boys ready for school and my wife and I getting ready for work. We walked on the path running alongside the road until we reached the bridge. That took us four or five minutes. A lot of cars passed but it is a busy road. There were no cars parked up around here when we arrived. Most of the walkers’ park on the dirt track behind the riverside walk, off the main road, they’re not supposed to, but they do. We passed a few people early on but most looked like they were walking from the estate at the back of Cleevesford, cutting alongside the river and field to get to the industrial estate over the way.’ There was a small industrial area, one road full of units, some of them having twenty-four seven operations. People could have trodden this route at any time during the night. Gina made a note to get an officer over to the units just in case anyone working there had seen something.
‘Can you remember anything about the people you passed?’
His shoulders dropped and he put a hand on each of his knees as he leaned back in thought. He began rubbing his thick black eyebrow as he concentrated. ‘A woman with a dog. I remember her, just past the bridge. I had to put Dobby on his lead. Her Jack Russell wouldn’t stop yapping. Then there was a man, a runner with earbuds in. Two men walked together and looked like they were going to work. They had yellow fluorescent coats on. I think there were other people, there were definitely other people, but I just don’t remember anything about them.’
She smiled and finished noting down what he’d said. ‘Can you tell me what the runner looked like?’
‘I can’t remember. He was wearing dark jogging bottoms. I didn’t see his face. You think I’d recognise most people who come here regularly but I don’t. People pretty much keep themselves to themselves. This stretch is a part of a local cross country run known to be quite a challenging route, people come from all over to do it. I’ve seen the woman with the dog before, she lives at the back of Cleevesford I think as she comes from that way most mornings.’
‘How about the two men?’
He scratched the light layer of stubble on his chin. ‘Again, I think I’ve seen them before, maybe not both together. One was smoking, the other had dark hair sticking out from under his woolly hat. They didn’t speak to us or acknowledge us at all. I wish I could remember more.’
Gina had four more potential witnesses for O’Connor and Wyre to look into. She really needed them to come forward from the appeal. She would make sure officers were positioned around the area over the next few days. If these people lived and worked close by, they’d probably be back.
‘Did you walk your dog around here last night or yesterday?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid Dobby had to make do with the garden. It was so cold and rainy, neither me nor my wife wanted to go out with him.’ He paused. ‘Can I leave now? I need to get back to my children.’
She nodded. ‘Officers will visit in a short while to take elimination samples from yourself, your children and the dog, as well as a formal statement. This will just help us with the investigation and won’t hurt at all. It’ll all be explained to you. Are you okay, Mr Gregson?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Someone killed that man and left him there. I live here and my family have always felt safe here. One of my boys saw his naked legs and torso. I now have to go home and speak to him about it. I don’t know what to do…’
Gina wished she could magic away his bad experience but she couldn’t. ‘Maybe the officer that attends could—’
‘That’s kind, thank you, but this is something I have to do myself. No time like the present.’ Gina asked him a few quick questions and watched as the man headed back towards his house with his head held low like a man deep in thought.
Gina glanced through all she had noted down. Dale Blair – they knew who he was but a formal identification would need to be made and that would happen a lot quicker if they could get him to the morgue and call a family member in. One question filled her mind. Where was Susan? Susan was possibly the last person to see Dale alive, did that make her a suspect?
Twenty-Nine
‘Clare. Clare!’ Mary ran through the front door, dropping her bag.
‘You’re back sooner than I thought.’ Clare tied up her dressing gown and hurried down the stairs.
Tears streamed down Mary’s face. ‘The detective called while I was out. They’ve found a body.’
Her mum was panicking over nothing again. She’d seen the news too. ‘It was a man, Mum. It’s not her.’
‘I know that. But why does the detective want to speak to me? She’s on her way over. This has something to do with Susan, I know it. It’ll be her next.’ Her mother opened her hands out and slammed her palms onto the wall several times, shaking her head as her cheeks reddened.
‘Mum, calm down. Let’s put the kettle on. It’s not Susan. You’re going a bit overboard here. The detective probably just wants to update us on Susan’s case.’ She reached over and placed a loving hand on her mother’s arm and led her to the kitchen.
Smoke, that’s what Mary could smell. In the hallway, on Clare’s clothes. Why wasn’t she dressed? With all that was going on, she needed her daughter’s support, not her defiance when it came to the house rules. She was meant to be up early and looking for work. ‘You’ve been smoking in the house.’ Mary removed the grip that had been holding a few strands o
f brown hair off her face.
‘Can we talk about this later?’
‘No.’ She clicked the grip into place. ‘We can’t. Look at you, dressing gown still on and stinking of smoke. Have you even had a shower yet?’
Clare sighed.
‘Don’t sigh at me, young lady. They are small asks. I want my home respected and I want you looking for work.’ Mary knew her timing was bad but anger swelled up in every part of her body. Had she not been so consumed by Clare’s chaotic existence, she may have had more time to help Susan. In her daughter’s moments of need, she hadn’t been there. She’d let Susan down.
‘Make your own tea!’ Clare stormed out of the room. As she stomped up the stairs the ceiling creaked.
Slumping over the breakfast bar, Mary held her head in her hands as she mulled over the question of where it had all gone wrong. Had it been when she and the girls’ father had split up? Had it been the long hours she’d worked? Maybe she wasn’t there for them when he died so suddenly. She shivered, that’s when Susan had first run away, not long after losing him. Was it the responsibility she’d dumped onto Clare? Jumbled thoughts ran through her mind. Susan had been her little runaway and her daughter had never opened up about that time in her life. She grabbed her hair and pulled a few strands out in frustration. No – Susan wouldn’t run away like when she was a teenager, not from her children and lovely Rory. Or would she? The poetry and drawings, their content so dark and disturbing, had whirled through her mind all night. Clare seemed to be on Ryan’s side. She wondered how worried Clare really was. Even if her little sister had only run away, she still needed the love and support of her family. Ryan – her thoughts flashed to him and how uncomfortable he’d made her feel back at his and Susan’s house.
The thrum of a car engine filled the silence. She checked her hair in the window’s reflection and straightened her jumper.
Sort yourself out, now, Mary.
Thirty
Mary stepped aside and Gina headed straight to the kitchen where she’d spoken to Mary a couple of nights ago. ‘Are you on your own?’ she asked, wondering if Mary had anyone with her to support her during these hard times.
‘Clare’s upstairs and Howard is with a customer. I haven’t told Howard that you called yet and Clare is getting dressed. What’s this about?’
No offer of a drink, no sitting down. Gina could see that Mary was desperate to find out the reason for her calling. ‘Have you seen the news this morning?’
Mary nodded and shakily balanced on one of the bar stools. ‘When I heard they’d found a body my stomach dropped. I’d taken the boys to their respective nurseries and I put the radio on when I got back into the car…’ She began to gasp a little. ‘I thought it was her and I…’ The woman sobbed, her shoulders bobbing as she tried to catch her breath. ‘And when I heard it was a man I laughed, actually laughed. I was so happy it wasn’t her. But someone died and it could have been her. Someone else is going to feel just as I felt in that moment. Another parent, sibling, child. And I feel awful for being glad it was him and not her.’ The woman cried into her hand.
Gina took the liberty of pulling a few sheets of kitchen roll from the holder and passed them to Mary. She wiped her face with the coarse tissue, sniffling as she calmed down. ‘That just makes you human, Mary.’
She took a few controlled breaths and tucked her hair behind her ear. That subtle movement took Gina back in time, once again. Not now. She cleared her throat as the image of her mother’s grave forced its way into her head. Seeing Mary cry was like looking at her mother. She almost wanted to cry with her and hug her. She looked away, focusing on the mug tree, the magnetic bottle opener stuck to the fridge, anything but Mary. Now was not the time to dwell on her own painful thoughts. ‘There is something I need to talk to you about.’ She swallowed down the lump in her throat. ‘It relates to Susan and the body that we found.’
‘What? Did she know him?’
Gina nodded. ‘We’ve identified him as Dale Blair, one of the clients she visited on the day she disappeared.’
A confused expression washed across Mary’s face.
‘We followed up on Susan’s appointments which you found in her office. Dale is a local tradesperson and it looks as though Susan had gone to his house. We’ve still yet to locate Susan’s car so there is a chance she went somewhere else after. It would have been flagged up by ANPR, automatic number plate recognition, had she been driving it around, but we haven’t had any flags at all. So far we’ve put her image and a few details out to the press, which you’ve probably seen.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I was watching the local news this morning.’
‘It has now become even more imperative that we find Susan. She may have been the last person to see Dale Blair alive which makes her a key witness.’ Gina didn’t have the heart to refer to her as a person of interest, not at this moment. Gina wasn’t even sure if she classed Susan as a person of interest – not yet. Gina mulled over her thoughts. They bounced between Susan being in grave danger as a body had turned up, to Susan could have killed Dale and is now on the run. She shook that thought away, at least while she was in Mary’s house.
Mary leaned back. ‘You think she did it, don’t you? You think she could have killed that man.’
‘I never said that, Mary.’ She had to be more direct. Mary wasn’t stupid. ‘We have to consider her a person of interest though. There’s no way around that. If there’s anything you can tell me. Did Susan have certain places she’d go to that you knew of? When she ran away in her teens, did she speak to you about where she went?’
Mary shook her head. ‘I don’t think I should say any more.’
‘Please, Mary. A neighbour heard them arguing on Tuesday.’
Mary’s lips remained tightly pursed.
‘Mary, we are talking about your missing daughter. The other theory is, whoever killed Mr Blair is dangerous and is still out there. Your daughter may know this person and she could be in danger.’
Mary stared out at the garden, her gaze fixing on the trellis against the back fence. Gina thought of the other night when she’d followed someone back there, someone who had been watching the house. ‘Please just find her.’
The woman’s brief frosty exterior was melting a little. ‘Mary, please tell me if you know of any place she might go.’
‘She wouldn’t talk to me when she came back, all that time ago. I lost my daughter for years and she never properly came back to me. Susan was always a secretive girl. I don’t think she went far though, she didn’t have any money. I always told myself that she stayed with a friend. I suppose it was easier to handle than the thought of her struggling on the streets or staying out with some boy.’
Gina leaned across the breakfast bar. That was the explanation that Mary had adopted and that had given her a lot of comfort over the years. Hopefully Susan had just run off to a friend’s back then and there was nothing more to the story. ‘If you think of anything, I mean anything, call me straight away and I’ll look into it. We only want to find Susan and know that she’s safe.’ That was certainly a part of what Gina wanted but she also had an awful lot of questions for Susan, mostly surrounding her relationship with Dale and his murder.
‘Do you recognise the name Dale Blair?’
Mary scrunched up her nose, another subtle gesture her mother used to make. Gina closed her eyes for an extra second as she blinked. Blink it all away.
‘No, I don’t. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name until today.’
That wasn’t the answer Gina had hoped for. Mary didn’t recognise Dale’s name. She had no idea of her daughter’s whereabouts when she was a teen and she had no idea why she ran away. She certainly looked like she had no idea where her daughter was now, or did she?
The distant look in Mary’s expression had strengthened. She wasn’t telling Gina everything. ‘Is there something else you want to tell me?’
The woman shook her head and rubbed her temples. ‘I have
a migraine coming on. I need to be alone.’
‘I need to speak to Clare.’
Mary dropped her hand onto the breakfast bar. ‘She doesn’t know any more than me and she’s in the shower.’
‘Please ask her to call me when she gets out.’
A half smile emerged and Mary rubbed her eye. ‘Sorry, I will do.’
Within seconds, Gina had been almost shoved out of the house onto the frosty street without even being offered the chance of waiting for Clare to emerge. She gazed up at the house and as she looked at the front bedroom window, the net dropped. A shiver ran down her spine. She knew there was more going on in that house and she knew getting Clare to speak was key to finding out what.
Thirty-One
‘Okay team, there’s a full alert out on Susan Wheeler. Still, no one has seen her. She’s like a ghost. No sign of her car, no witnesses coming forward. I was just speaking to Bernard as I came in. He found a wallet underneath the body and, as suspected, it belongs to Dale Blair. It contained a ten-pound note, a cash card, a door key and his driving licence. That rules out robbery as a motivation. There’s no way it was a mugging gone wrong, but I think we know that already.’ Gina slumped into a chair at the head of the table. The fan heater in the corner of the incident room kicked in and began to whirr. Jacob and Wyre still had their coats on. O’Connor shivered and wheeled his chair along the floor, stopping in front of the heater.
‘Has the body gone to the morgue yet?’ Briggs asked as he entered.
‘On its way now, sir.’ He flashed her a slight smile. She pulled her thick cardigan around her body, hugging it closely, willing some of its warmth to seep through her frozen core. Her mind flashed back to Briggs holding her alongside the river during their last case. Warmth always flooded from his body, regardless of how cold he was. He stood there, looking at the board and all the updates that had been added to it, in only a thin shirt and tie, the tie she’d bought him as a gift during their brief relationship. Had he chosen to wear it by chance? She didn’t think so. Briggs was a deep thinker. He’d have chosen that to show her that he still thought about her, giving off a subtle clue.
