by Jane Isaac
The comfort of his embrace was soothing. She rested her head on his shoulder and relished the gentle tap of his heart against hers. She wasn’t sure how long they stood there. The warmth of their two bodies shared.
The sound of a boot on a gritty path filled the air. Beth pulled back. Smoothed her top, re-crossed her arms awkwardly. The footsteps grew louder.
Pete stepped out of the shadows and stubbed a cigarette against the brickwork. How long had he been there?
Nick dug his hands in his pockets. ‘You okay, mate?’ he said.
Pete’s gaze slid from one to another. If he’d seen their embrace, it didn’t show in his face.
‘Better than the boss right now,’ Pete said pulling a face. ‘I passed Andrea Leary on my way out. She was heading for his office and she’s got a real dog shit face on her.’
Beth and Nick looked at one another and moved inside. They could hear raised voices as soon as they reached the stairs. Freeman’s Birmingham accent was stronger when he shouted. Andrea’s pitch higher. They were speaking at the same time, drowning each other out.
‘Sounds like she’s gone off on one,’ Pete said, bringing up the rear.
In the corridor, a crowd had gathered outside the incident room.
‘Okay, guys,’ Nick said. ‘Let’s give them some space.’ The voices cut as he herded the bodies back inside. Freeman’s door clicked open. Beth and Nick were still in the corridor, waiting for the last of the homicide team to filter back into the incident room, when Andrea emerged. She slammed the door behind her and marched towards them. Red blotches covered her neck. Her eyes squinting to tiny holes. She ignored them both, strode past and disappeared around the corner.
Beth watched her go, then made for Freeman’s room. She could hear Nick’s low voice behind her. Warning her to leave it, to give the DCI a moment. Senior management clashed all the time. But Andrea was the chief constable’s staff officer. It was her that had delivered the message expressing Cara’s concern. Her that had requested changes were made on the team.
They had a result on the case. One of the biggest cases Northamptonshire force had ever faced had been solved. What the hell could be the problem now?
Freeman opened his office door as she arrived. His face flaming red, the skin taut over his cheekbones.
‘Ah, Beth. I was coming to get you.’ He waited for Nick to join them before inviting them inside and closing the door.
Freeman walked back to his desk, sitting with a ‘humph’ before he spoke. ‘It seems there are some that aren’t pleased with how we’ve handled things.’
‘What?’ Nick’s voice was indignant.
Beth already knew what was coming next. ‘Daniel Owen committed suicide after recent contact with the police which means there’ll be an investigation.’
‘That’s routine,’ Nick said. The Independent Office for Police Conduct examined the circumstances when a member of the public died after recent contact with the police to check officers had acted appropriately. ‘And given that Cara herself, the guilty party, contacted the chief expressing concern, some might think she was trying to throw us off the scent. I mean, she had no idea whether or not we were close to discovering her secret.’
‘I realise that. But it was Beth who dealt with Daniel and since the chief had asked for changes, they weren’t expecting Beth to be the officer present with him when he died.’
Nick sat back and crossed his arms. ‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘I know.’ Freeman looked across at Beth. ‘That’s why I’ve told them I ordered you both to attend the car park as you were nearby. I’ve also told them I asked you to liaise with Daniel because you’d built up a rapport with him and knew him better than anyone else at the scene. These were emergency circumstances. We pulled on the most skilled person on hand at the time.’
The air in the room was palpable. Not only had Freeman tried to protect her in her liaison role when concerns were raised, he had now falsified an account to say she was at the car park on his orders. How could she ever have doubted him?
‘There will be an investigation and I trust you will both concur with my orders in your statements.’
They both nodded. ‘Thank you, sir,’ was all Beth could muster.
‘Thanks aren’t needed,’ Freeman said.
‘What about the chief?’ Nick asked.
‘This hasn’t got anything to do with the chief,’ Freeman said. ‘I spoke with him after Andrea’s visit the other day. The concern raised was general. Individual names weren’t mentioned.’
Beth was astounded. The request to change Beth came from Andrea. This wasn’t about policing changes to appease the family. This was about a personal vendetta Andrea couldn’t let go of, and the fact that she was continuing it in her new role was galling.
‘So, we didn’t need to remove Beth as Daniel Owen’s contact?’ Nick said.
‘We needed to show we’d listened and made sure the family were adequately supported, which we did. All relevant agencies were notified of Daniel Owen’s potential vulnerability. He was a grown adult, functioning in society. He hadn’t been sectioned and hadn’t asked for help. It’s a sad situation, but we cannot be held responsible for the incident that occurred this afternoon.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘Let’s get our statements in and move on.’
Beth and Nick stood. ‘Thank you,’ they chimed.
‘There’s something else.’ Freeman’s face turned grim. ‘I’ve been alerted to a… rumour, shall we say. That you two are having a relationship.’
Beth’s heart cratered. This was the moment she’d dreaded. Had someone seen them outside? Pete wasn’t one for gossip. Andrea maybe? Or had someone seen them elsewhere? They were normally so careful, so discrete.
‘Sir, I—’
Freeman raised a hand to silence Nick. ‘It’s only a rumour and given that you’re working and living together, not surprising. Frankly I’m not interested in whether or not it’s true.’ He looked from one to another. ‘But you must know that I can’t have officers in an intimate relationship on my management team, certainly not with one being the line manager of another. So, I’ll say this once. If there is any truth to this, one of you needs to consider a move. Otherwise, squash the gossip.’
Freeman rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Okay, I’m expected in the conference room in two minutes,’ he said changing the subject. ‘We’re preparing the press for a conference at 9 p.m. to update them on Cara Owen’s charge. There will also be a mention of Daniel’s death, I imagine the chief will play it down as a father distressed at losing his daughter. The investigation into his death won’t be mentioned. Nick, I’ll need you with me.’ He turned to Beth. ‘How are you feeling? You’ve had quite a day.’
‘I’m fine, sir, thank you.’ Right now, she wasn’t quite sure how she felt, a maelstrom of emotions rushing through her. But she wasn’t about to let him know that.
‘Up to visiting the Russells? I can get someone else—’
‘No. I’m their liaison officer. The news should come from me.’
‘Well, okay. If you’re sure. Take it easy and text me when you are done. We won’t be releasing anything to the press until the family are informed, no matter how keen the chief constable is to get this news out there.’
50
Marie Russell’s eyes were glued to Beth who was sitting in the corner of their sofa. When the detective had phoned and said she was coming over, at nearly 8 p.m. on a Sunday evening, she’d known it was important. Thoughts of Daniel had whirled around her mind. Or Bishop Bryan – maybe they had the test results. Or worse, they hadn’t substantiated his alibi. But Cara, guilty? No… That was something she’d never contemplated.
She stayed quiet while Beth relayed Cara’s admission, barely believing her ears. Allowed her to explain everything. Every piece of information like tiny glass bullets, piercing the skin.
Her mind switched back to the fateful day she lost her baby. John sitting on the sofa, trying to comfort her while Cara mad
e tea in the kitchen. Her kitchen! All the time knowing they had killed her baby. Joining the search, driving around the estate, desperately searching for Alicia’s car seat. A car seat they’d disposed of along with the changing bag.
One sentence. One tiny sentence was all it would have taken to have put her out of her misery. All that angst. All those sleepless nights, wondering if Alicia was still out there, if she was hurt, if whoever had taken her was looking after her. All those years of guilt, an overwhelming guilt, like a scouring pad, tearing at her.
Cara could have negated that. Could have put a stop to the speculation. Yet she said nothing. Did nothing. And watched everyone suffer around her.
‘She’s been charged with child abduction, concealing a body and murder,’ Beth said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘She will be kept in custody?’ Vic checked.
Beth nodded. ‘She’ll appear before Magistrates tomorrow, a formality really. They’ll keep her on remand.’
Vic’s eyes narrowed. ‘There’s no chance she could get off, is there?’
Marie grabbed his arm, but he shook her off. ‘No, love,’ he said. ‘I want to make sure. I don’t want her anywhere near my family.’
‘She’s admitted to abduction and concealment of a body. It will be for a judge to decide on her sentence.’
‘And the murder?’
‘The CPS have authorised a charge of murder for now. An expert will be called in to examine her account and check it against the injuries Alicia sustained. If they are confident it all fits, the charge may be adjusted to manslaughter. She’s admitted the offence though, she’ll still go to prison.’
‘Why now?’ Marie said. ‘Why not fifteen years ago?’
The questions were rhetorical. She felt a movement beside her. The warmth of Vic’s arm sliding around her shoulders.
‘I’m afraid there’s something else I need to tell you,’ the detective said. ‘Daniel’s dead.’
Suddenly, the walls felt like they were closing in. Marie heard Vic gasp. Saw him press his free hand to his mouth. Was aware of him asking questions: ‘What? When? How?’ The detective talking about a car park. The words merging together, until she heard the word ‘suicide’.
A strangled scream clawed up from within.
Vic pulled her close. ‘What happened?’ he asked Beth. Whatever had passed between the three of them, there was a time when Daniel was Vic’s best friend and Marie’s soulmate. During early adulthood they’d shared a life together, celebrating their successes, consoling each other in times of need. He couldn’t be dead.
Beth explained how the police had been called to an incident in town. How he’d jumped off one of the high floors of a car park. It was too much to bear.
‘Did he know about Cara?’ Vic asked.
The detective was quiet a moment. ‘It didn’t seem so.’
‘Why? I mean, why would he do that now? After all this time.’
‘We’re not sure. He refused to accept the child’s remains might be Alicia. Didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it was too much to deal with.’
Fear clutched at Marie’s chest. ‘Did he know about Alicia and the rape?’ Her words were forced out, barely a whisper.
‘No,’ Beth said. ‘I was with him until the end. I’m certain he died thinking he was Alicia’s father.’
Too much death. Too much heartache. Marie covered her face with her hands, hot tears rolling through the gaps in her fingers as she sobbed. Alicia’s disappearance was an unanswered question in her and Daniel’s shared history, an open wound they could never attend to, a barrier that kept them apart. Now that they had answers he was gone and she’d never have a chance to speak with him, to share her feelings and listen to his; they’d never be able to grieve the loss of their daughter together.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Beth repeated.
Time passed. Slowly, Marie calmed. She could barely focus, thinking of her sister-in-law and John. ‘Both of them turned to drink after Alicia disappeared,’ she said, wiping a tissue across her cheeks, bleary eyes staring in space. ‘We all thought it was because of the pressure on everyone, the sadness.’ She tossed her head, one side to the other. ‘How could they?’
‘Cara claims it was an accident, she didn’t mean to hurt Alicia. She’d just received news her latest attempt at IVF hadn’t worked and wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘But to take her away from me like that. And not say anything…’ The room was starting to dance around her. ‘All those years of wondering what had happened. Of hoping. All that terror. And all the time she knew.’ She squeezed her eyes together tight, trying to erase the images crashing into her head. Of Alicia in her pram. Of Cara cradling her. Of her child, her baby, broken and buried in the ground.
‘My detective chief inspector will be giving a statement to the press tonight,’ Beth said, ‘confirming the charge. He’ll reinstate the plea for family privacy.’
Marie wasn’t interested in the press or the public. There was only one question plaguing her mind, only one thing she was interested in now. She blinked to clear her vision. ‘When can we have Alicia back?’ she said. ‘I want her buried with Liam.’
‘Of course,’ Beth said. ‘We’ll get that organised for you.’
*
A low fog had descended when Beth left the Russells’ home, swirling around the cars parked out front. The day’s events coupled with her visit to the Russells left her weary and hollow. The result of solving a homicide, catching a killer was always tempered by the sadness of the lives lost and, in this case, any satisfaction she might have felt was marred by the shocking events that led up to it, and the years of pain the family had endured afterwards, only to face the crushing reality the person responsible was one of their own. Cara and Marie were sisters in marriage. They’d been raised in the same circle, spent family occasions in each other’s company, celebrated birthdays and weddings together.
She’d avoided sharing the explicit details of Alicia’s burial. Hadn’t told Marie her daughter was entombed in concrete. She’d have to share it with her, sooner or later, and as tactfully as she was able. Too many people were aware of the circumstances for her not to. But, for now, the family had enough to deal with.
Marie and Vic Russell had looked pale when she left them. Translucent, empty. As if every ounce of colour, of happiness had been squeezed out. They’d experienced more than their fair share of pain and anguish during their marriage, that was for sure.
She paused under a streetlamp, pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a quick text to Freeman confirming she’d delivered the news. The press conference was arranged for 9 p.m.; Freeman would be practising his statement in his best suit, waiting for the all clear from her before he started. Maybe the superintendent would join him, the chief constable too, looking to cash in on the conclusion of a case that had blighted the force for so many years.
She was about to slip her phone into her pocket when it erupted in her hand. It was Eden.
‘Hey.’ The normality of her sister’s voice grounded Beth. Simultaneously, a wave of fatigue hit her and she suddenly felt ridiculously tired. ‘How are you doing?’ Eden’s voice sounded distant, as if she was standing on top of mountain.
‘I’m fine, thanks. Just finished work. Where are you, you’re sounding fuzzy?’
‘Oh, sorry.’ A pause was followed by a jolt and footsteps clanking on metal. ‘Is that better?’
‘Yes. What are you up to?’
‘I was in the loft, sorting out the suitcases. Are you still okay to run us to the airport on Monday evening?’
Beth rubbed her forehead, reminding herself of the arrangements. ‘Of course. Pick you up at six we said, didn’t we?’
‘Better make it five-thirty. There are roadworks on the M1. I’d hate to be running late and have to rush at the last minute, especially for Lily’s first time on an aeroplane.’
Beth smiled to herself. She could imagine Lily skipping around her bedroom, packing her suitcase, fizzing wi
th excitement for her holiday in Lapland. There wouldn’t be much hope of getting her to sleep for the next couple of nights. ‘I bet she’s really excited.’
‘You could say that. We’ll finish packing tomorrow, then she’s got her last day at school before we go.’
‘Good luck. How’s she getting on with the camera?’
‘Goodness, she won’t put it down. Even sleeps with the damn thing. She’s snapping pictures of everything.’
Beth laughed. ‘Don’t forget to take it with you. Is there anything else you need?’
‘No, I’m all sorted. I’ll see you here at five-thirty on Monday.’
Beth sucked in a lungful of damp air as the phone line cut. All she craved now was a hot drink and a warm bed. She lowered her arm. And noticed a movement in her peripheral vision. A figure standing in the shadows on the other side of the road. Tall. His face obscured by a baseball cap, the peak pulled down low. The thick-set physique, the square head looked vaguely familiar. She squinted through the mist. It couldn’t be…
‘Hey!’ she said, making her way across the road. He didn’t budge.
Her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket. It was Nick. She clicked it off and looked up again. To find him gone. Footsteps nearby tapped the pavement. She turned both ways, desperately trying to place the sound. The mist was thickening, she could barely see a few metres in front. He was running off. Which way? Beth searched the road, up and down, disorientated by the gathering fog. The footsteps faded. An engine ignited in the distance. He must have parked in one of the side roads nearby. She picked up speed, jogged down to her car. By the time she’d reached it she could no longer hear the engine.
Beth looked back towards the Russells’. It was dark. Misty. The figure had been standing on the other side of the road, away from the streetlights, making it impossible to see him clearly. Why run off like that?
Her mobile rang again. She flicked her thumb across the glass, raised it to her ear without checking the screen, expecting to hear Nick’s voice.
