The Girl in the Grave: An unputdownable crime thriller with nail-biting suspense

by Helen Phifer

  There was a knock on the door, and he heard Mickey whisper, ‘Boss, CSI are here, and Claire is apparently going to rip your bollocks off if you’ve been inside the scene before she’s videoed and photographed it.’

  He grimaced, straightened up and retraced his footsteps. As he walked out of the door he bumped straight into her, blocking his way with her arms folded across her chest. Mickey just shrugged and turned the other way.

  ‘Why, Josh? You know the score better than anyone.’

  ‘I didn’t touch anything, and we don’t have much time. I just needed to see for myself. It’s all yours, and the hotel manager’s already been in a couple of times.’

  She shook her head, tutting at him but said no more. He knew she’d understand.

  He walked back to the staircase and shuffled his way outside to the van where he stripped off the suit, boot covers and gloves, depositing them all into a brown paper sack as evidence. There was nothing else he could do here. He needed to think where to search; to work out who was keeping Annie captive, and fast. From Beth’s findings with the fly pupa he was hoping they had maybe a couple of days before they ran out of time.

  Thirty-Six

  Sam was waiting with Jack by his van and smiled as Josh crossed the road towards her. He passed the T-shirt to Jack, and they waited patiently as he let the dog out and held it under her nose. Their hearts lifted as the springer spaniel set off towards the hotel, straining at her long leash; but it wasn’t long before Jack and the dog returned to where they were waiting.

  ‘She picked up the scent a short distance outside of the hotel grounds, across the road at the back of the church and then it stopped; nothing else.’

  ‘Dammit. He must have bundled her into a vehicle and drove away with her. Sam, can you ask the CCTV operators to check the cameras on the main street after she’d been escorted to bed?’

  ‘Already on it.’

  ‘Thank you. Any word on Thompson?’

  ‘No. But I’ve been thinking: where he could possibly hide her? He lives in a second floor flat with no garden, has neighbours above and below him.’

  He nodded. ‘Are there any sheds, garages or lock-ups at the cemetery?’

  She shrugged. ‘Probably, should we go there now?’

  Josh was already in the driver’s seat clicking his seat belt in. He did a three-point turn to get out of the tight space and took off as fast as he could. The cemetery was only a few minutes away.

  * * *

  Driving through the main gates he headed straight towards the cemetery offices, hoping that they were still open. Abandoning the car so it blocked in a brand-new Jag, he didn’t care; they would have to wait. Pushing open the old, creaky wooden door it made enough noise to wake the dead. The girl sitting behind an equally old desk jumped at the sudden noise.

  Josh pulled out his warrant card and crossed towards her, thrusting it in her face. ‘DS Josh Walker and this is my colleague DC Sam Thomas, we’re investigating a high-risk missing person’s case and need to know if there are any outbuildings here, in the grounds? Sheds, garages, that sort of thing…’

  ‘Well, Jase and Barry have access to the entire site, they would know. I’m sorry, I haven’t been here very long so I couldn’t tell you. I’m sure Jase will be able to help you. I’ll ring him for you.’ She tucked the phone under her chin and looked at her watch. ‘Mind you they might have gone home for the day. I was just about to leave. It is quite late.’

  Josh looked at Sam, who shrugged: was it possible Thompson hadn’t done a runner at all and had been here all day working? He hoped so. They waited for the girl to go through an address book and then dial the phone number. She seemed as if she was moving in slow motion, but eventually she replaced the receiver and looked across at him.

  ‘Do you have a plan of the cemetery we could look at?

  ‘I don’t think we have one here. You might have to ask at the planning department, they would probably have one. Jase isn’t picking up; should I try Barry?’

  Sam smiled at her. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, but could you please hurry. This really is a matter of great urgency.’

  The girl smiled back then looked down at the book and began running her finger down the page to find Barry’s number, then repeated the process.

  ‘Barry, can you come to the office now? There’s two coppers here. They’re in a bit of a rush.’

  She put the phone down. ‘He’s up by the old chapel; he said can you meet him because he was about to clock off. He’ll start walking down. Is there anything else I can help you with?’

  Josh stepped outside and heard Sam thanking her for her help. They got back into the car and began the drive along the narrow, steep hill towards the chapel where it had all begun two days ago. Josh rubbed a hand across the stubble on his face; had it only been two days? They saw a man in a bright yellow safety vest walking down the hill towards them. Josh stopped the car and put the window down. Barry leaned into his open window. The metallic smell of freshly dug soil clung to him and filled the car.

  ‘What’s up, officers?’

  Josh couldn’t afford to be subtle; he decided honesty was the best way forward. They didn’t have the luxury of time on their side and he hoped that it wouldn’t come back to haunt him.

  ‘What I’m about to tell you is highly sensitive and not to be spoken about to anyone. This is confidential between us, Barry.’ He stared at him waiting for an acknowledgment of the seriousness of the situation.

  Barry nodded, confirming he understood.

  ‘A girl has gone missing and we think there’s a strong possibility that the same person who put that girl in your grave might have taken her. We can’t find Jason either and I’m more than a little bit concerned that he might have something to do with this whole mess.’

  Barry stared at Josh, then began shaking his head. ‘Nah, you’re wrong. Jase is mouthy, full of himself and a lazy bastard. But he’s not like that. He’s not a weirdo.’

  ‘How would you know that?’

  ‘I work with him, don’t I? You can tell a lot about a person when you work closely with them. He likes a laugh and a joke, and he’s partial to the ladies but he wouldn’t do that. Never.’

  ‘Then why has he vanished off the face of the earth when one of my officers asked him to come into the station for a chat?’

  ‘Scared, the stupid bugger. He watches too much TV, always banging on about some poor sod in America who got locked up for a murder he didn’t commit.’

  ‘Whoever killed the first girl now potentially has a new victim. There’s a chance she may still be alive.’ He glanced at the graveyard around them. ‘We need to know if there are there any unused outbuildings here that he might have access to?’

  ‘Well yeah, there’s a couple. There’s the equipment shed, then there’s our little lock-up; but I’d know if there was a girl hidden away in there. I use them every day.’

  ‘What about places you don’t use?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ll take you to all the hidey-holes, so you can have a look for yourselves. You won’t find anything out of the ordinary.’

  He began to walk off and Sam whispered in Josh’s ear, ‘How’s he so sure about all of this?’

  Josh stared at her. They jumped out of the car and jogged to catch up with him, just in case he decided to do a runner as well.

  Thirty-Seven

  Beth had finished at a reasonable time today: she’d still make it to her usual self-defence class if she got a move on. She looked at the bottle of wine on the kitchen worktop. It was tempting, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep unless she’d done something to properly tire herself out and burn off this nervous energy that was coursing through her veins.

  Upstairs, she changed into a pair of loose-fitting gym pants and a baggy T-shirt – no tight Lycra for her, nothing to make her stand out and draw attention to herself, despite her having a good figure for a woman in her mid-thirties – she then dipped into the spare room to grab her trainers. She s
ecretly loathed this room. It was a nursery when she’d first moved in, but it was now repainted and packed with boxes of odd junk, her weights and swinging punch bag in the corner. She’d never settled down long enough to consider having children before meeting Robert. After they’d been together a while the possibility had crossed her mind, but he had never really seemed like the paternal type; he was so particular about everything, couldn’t stand mess, or noise, or sticky fingers all over his pristine life. After the attack she knew she wouldn’t ever trust anyone enough again to ever try. At one time it had made her sad that she wasn’t able to join in with her friends when they were talking about what little Skye or Jacob had been up to this week at nursery. But now she knew it was a blessing; some things were meant to be. As she laced up her trainers, she wondered why Josh and his wife had never had children. He’d make such a great dad – he was that kind of man.

  The drive to the community hall didn’t take very long but parking the car did. Even though it was after six, the car park a short walk away was full. Who wouldn’t want to watch the sun setting over the lake with an ice cream or a bag of fish and chips on such a beautiful evening?

  As she drove past the small street which led to the Windermere Lake Hotel she wondered why there were so many police vans parked outside. There was a PCSO standing guard at the entrance to the hotel. She checked her phone. There can’t have been a sudden death, as she’d had no missed calls. Circling back around, she managed to pull into a space in front of Costa just as another car pulled out. Lots of people were milling around by the church and coffee shop. As she locked her car she headed towards the community hall. She’d ask Josh tomorrow if he knew what had gone on.

  The class had already begun by the time she slipped inside. Phil glanced across at her, grinned and lifted his hand in greeting. She did the same back. He was cute in his own way, and very muscly. Not her type at all, but he was excellent at teaching women how to defend themselves against would-be attackers. She joined in with the rest of the class, who were warming up. Focusing on the exercises, she pushed today out of her head and before long she was punching, blocking and kicking, and Phil was throwing her around on the mats. She didn’t mind, she was great at blocking punches now and enjoyed the power of the roughness and close contact between them. It was as close as she’d got to intimacy since the attack. Her mind wandered for a moment and she felt herself flying through the air, once more landing heavily on the mats.

  ‘You’re losing your touch, Beth.’

  She looked up at Phil, aware that he could have thrown her a lot harder than he actually had. Grinning, she rolled over.

  ‘Maybe I’m just luring you into a false sense of security.’

  He laughed, holding out his hand for her and pulling her to her feet. Turning around, he told the class to practise what he’d just shown them and then turned back to her, asking quietly, ‘Is everything okay? You’ve been a bit distant the last couple of sessions.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m good. Work is busy. It’s my own fault I keep getting distracted, nothing’s wrong. Thank you for asking.’

  ‘Good, I worry about you. I think you work too hard and you need to have some fun. Why don’t you come out for a drink with the rest of the class when we finish? It’s Bob’s birthday and we’re going to The Stag for a couple.’

  Beth always said no, Phil knew this, but Beth liked that he never stopped asking, never stopped trying to pull her back into the fold. It was nice. It made her feel as if she belonged to this mixed bunch of people who would probably never have the need to use what they got taught once or twice a week. At least, she hoped they wouldn’t. Opening her mouth, no one was more shocked than she was to hear herself say: ‘OK, just one drink.’

  Thirty-Eight

  Barry took them inside the lock-up where the tools and heavy machinery were kept. Josh and Sam checked it thoroughly, but there were no trap doors or concealed rooms, nothing but spades and lawnmowers. Next, he took them to a large empty shed and gave them a quick tour of the offices where the staff room and locker rooms were.

  ‘What did I tell you? If there was a woman being held here against her will, I’d have known about it, and don’t you think I’d have rung you lot? She’s not here.’

  ‘What about the old chapel?’

  ‘It’s fenced off and boarded up, but you can go look for yourself. Someone must have had a look around already; you lot have been hanging around by that grave opposite for long enough. Anyway, I check it’s all secure at the beginning of every shift because of squatters. Nothing to report.’

  Josh didn’t want to admit defeat despite the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. ‘Thanks for your time. If you notice anything amiss or strange…’

  ‘…Then I’ll ring you lot straight away.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Whatever that stupid bugger Jason has done it isn’t what you’re thinking. I’m never wrong about people, I’ve always had a gut instinct about them. You’re wasting your time chasing him when you should be looking for the sick bastard who’s doing this.’

  Barry walked away, back towards the offices. Sam looked at Josh.

  ‘He could be right, boss. What if we’re barking up the wrong tree and wasting time?’

  ‘We can’t rule him out simply because good old Barry’s “gut instinct is never wrong”. But I think we need to keep our options open. Where else can we look?’

  Before Sam could answer him, he answered himself. ‘Let’s pay the undertaker’s a visit, Dean & Sons.’

  Sam grimaced. ‘I’ve seen enough dead bodies for one day.’

  ‘Sorry, but I need you to charm your way in there. We’ll need to have a look around if they’ll do it without a warrant. Both of them are a bit odd from memory, rarely ever say more than hello, goodbye when I’ve had to call them out to a sudden death.’

  ‘What makes you think they’ll say more than that to me?’

  ‘You have a way with words and the younger one – is it James? I think it is – he’s the lonely type. I think he’ll like you.’

  ‘What are you trying to say?’

  ‘I remember a few years ago there was a bit of a fuss when his brother was showing a customer around and walked in on James screwing a new member of staff on top of one of the trolleys where they put the coffins.’

  ‘How the hell do you even know this stuff, Josh?’

  ‘I know everything. It’s called being a good copper.’

  She rolled her eyes at him. ‘No, it’s called being a gossip.’

  Thirty-Nine

  The pub was literally thirty steps from the hall they had just come from, but Beth stayed close to Phil as they walked through the doors, her stomach full of butterflies. She knew she was being completely ridiculous. How on earth could she ever enjoy her life if she lived this way forever? He’d won if she did. He might not have succeeded in killing her that night, but would it have been better than this slow, torturous non-existence?

  As they queued at the busy bar, Phil told her to go and sit with the others and he’d bring the drinks over. She shook her head: she was paying for this round. It was the least she could do.

  ‘You didn’t have to do that!? I can stoop to two halfs of lager, a blackcurrant and a glass of wine.’

  She laughed. ‘If you do that every week, is it even worth your while running the classes?’

  ‘Yes, most definitely. I like to think of it as my chance to give something back to the community. I also hope I help people who’ve been through a terrible time gain the confidence to make sure it will never happen again.’

  He picked up three glasses and walked towards the small table the others had squeezed themselves around. Beth had to blink several times to stop the tears from falling. He was right, and she wished she could thank him in a better way than buying a round of drinks. She squeezed in to a small gap next to Audrey and Bob, who both smiled at her.

  ‘It’s lovely to see you here, Beth,’ said Audrey.
‘We’ve often wondered what you do for a living. Bob thinks you’re a copper. I think you might be a doctor. Maybe a GP, but you’re definitely not a housewife because you’re always on call.’

  All eyes were on her. She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t. She needed to do this, to see what life was like on the other side of fear.

  ‘You’re quite close, Audrey, I’m a doctor of sorts.’

  Audrey smiled sweetly at Bob. ‘I knew it.’

  ‘No one likes a smart-arse, babe. Don’t gloat, it doesn’t suit you.’

  It was only then Beth realised that Audrey and Bob were a couple. She looked at their ring fingers to see the matching wedding rings and smiled; she was learning something new every day. How many months had she spoken to them, wrestled with them on the mats and hadn’t even made the connection? Was she that self-absorbed these days? Trying to deflect the conversation away from herself, Beth asked, ‘What about you, Audrey, do you work?’

  Bob nodded. ‘She works all right, drags me there with her most days.’

  Audrey nudged him. ‘Shh, you enjoy it. So don’t pretend that you don’t. How many pretty brides do you get to flirt with?’

  He laughed, and Audrey turned to Beth. ‘I’m a florist. I own the little shop near to the marina called Pretty Flowers.’

  Beth smiled. ‘I love the flowers from there, they’re beautiful. If I’m passing, I always pop in for some.’