The Game

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The Game Page 8

by Luca Veste


  Mark felt there would have to be some kind of link between the two women, but he didn’t think it would prove easy to find. Especially considering they didn’t currently know who the dead girl was.

  Thoughts shot through his mind, even as Stephanie continued to lean in between him and the driver. He could feel the pull of the investigation – wanting to get back on the streets, back in the office, working out what the answers to all of this were. Even as another part of him wished to be back at home, in relative safety.

  ‘It doesn’t explain the blood,’ Stephanie said quietly, almost mumbling it under her breath. ‘Unless it’s not Emily’s, but this other girl’s? I guess this isn’t over yet. Probably got way ahead of ourselves.’

  ‘There’s a long way to go, yes,’ Mark replied. Stephanie looked away, but didn’t lean back into her seat. ‘Best thing to do is stay positive. I’m sure things will change now. More answers will be coming.’

  Stephanie seemed to accept this, flopping back in her seat. She began gnawing away on one of her painted fingernails, Mark watching her for a second or two before settling back into his seat.

  He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but he knew it wouldn’t be anything good.

  It’ll be media, he thought. A circus, from now on. One missing, one dead. The way Mark thought now, there were only two options. Either this was a massive coincidence, or the missing Emily and unknown dead woman were connected.

  That threw up two more options. Either Emily was still in danger or there was another scenario. That Emily’s blood was there following an altercation with whoever ended up at the bottom of that building.

  That Emily was on the run.

  Not enough evidence for that yet, Mark thought, but it was another wrinkle to an already pretty screwed-up picture that was forming.

  Either way, he needed to find Emily. And that meant media. It meant people looking for her. It meant her face being shared by everyone in the area. It would have been one of the next steps anyway, even before the body had been found. With her family reporting her missing, it made sense to get them out in front of the cameras, just as the media glare was trained on the story. It would lodge in the minds of people watching.

  You can’t hide for long when the world is looking for you.

  Fifteen

  Mark walked through the kitchen and into the back garden, where he could talk a little more privately. The family were now ensconced in the living room, a renewed sense of hope tangible among them all.

  From the sound of DI Bennett’s voice, things had clearly changed now the body had turned out to be some other poor girl.

  ‘Any news on ID?’

  He imagined there would be a few people being shouted at back at the station for being too quick to believe the body was Emily Burns. He had no doubt he would’ve been on the end of one of those bollockings if he’d been there as well.

  ‘Joanna Carter,’ DI Bennett said, once Mark was outside. ‘Has that name come up at all?’

  ‘Not from my investigations so far,’ Mark replied, shaking his head. ‘I’ve not got very far with the social media aspect though, so can’t say if they’re connected online or something. It’s all moved on a bit since yesterday afternoon. Is that the dead girl?’

  ‘Woman,’ DI Bennett corrected, tutting to herself over the phone. ‘Twenty years old. Student, from down south originally, so I imagine it’s unlikely she’d know Emily.’

  ‘Not that unlikely, if there’s been contact online.’

  ‘Nonetheless, she lived in the building where we found her. Private student accommodation. Not cheap either. She was studying medicine, at the City university. A world away from a place like your missing girl’s house. She hadn’t been seen for a few days, but didn’t exactly have many friends in the building. Kept herself to herself, according to a whole bunch of students we’ve been speaking to today. None of them knew Emily when her name was mentioned. Seems like Joanna was a bit of a loner. Would have made things a bit easier if she had a boyfriend or girlfriend, at least. Once we realised it wasn’t Emily, we went back over those who lived in the building. Should have been our first action really, but I guess we all just thought it would be too much of a coincidence, that we would find a body a few yards from where Emily’s blood was found and it not be her. A mistake that won’t be happening again.’

  ‘So, you think there’s some kind of connection?’

  ‘What do you think?’ DI Bennett said, a patronising tone creeping into her voice, which made Mark grit his teeth a little. ‘Dead woman, found not that far from Emily’s last known location. Blood found at that location – nothing else. Emily goes missing in the same area. Doesn’t exactly take Sherlock to work this one out. Come on, Mark. I know you like the family, but there’s something not right with this whole picture. With this Emily.’

  ‘What about the blood? Or the fact Emily has been missing for three days and we’ve only just found Joanna Carter’s body?’

  ‘Maybe there was some kind of altercation between the two,’ DI Bennett replied, not seeming sure of anything she was saying now. ‘It’s not that far from where we found this woman. Maybe she kept her on the roof for a day or two, not knowing what to do, before coming up with this… plan. Make it look like suicide. Only, she didn’t think of what would happen next. Lots of options. We just need to find the link. We’re going over Joanna’s personal effects now. Her family will be up here any time now to identify her properly. Let’s hope we’ve got it right this time.’

  ‘This feels like a rush to cover a mistake,’ Mark said, then instantly regretted it. ‘I mean, we’ve got no evidence to suggest Emily could be a suspect. Right?’

  ‘What are your theories?’ DI Bennett said, sidestepping the question. ‘If the two are related, that seems to be the most logical outcome.’

  Mark blew out a breath and swept a hand through his hair. ‘As I said, I haven’t been working on this long enough to have much to go on. If she’s involved with Joanna’s death, then either she was the only one involved, or there’s more to it. For now, she’s simply a person of interest. Maybe they were in some kind of relationship or something? Or they liked the same bloke and it bubbled over. I don’t know right now. All we do know is that we need to track down Emily and fill in the missing blanks to this story.’

  ‘You know what we need to do, right?’

  ‘We need to put the family out in front of the media…’ Mark said, wishing he hadn’t been right in what was coming. Not really understanding why he felt that way. ‘Tricky situation, if what you’re thinking is even close to what has actually happened.’

  ‘Very true, but we need to flush her out,’ DI Bennett replied. ‘I’ll explain how it should be presented to the family. I don’t want it getting out that there’s possibly a link between the two of them. Just in case there isn’t and we look even worse than we do right now. For the moment, we’ll treat the two cases with a quiet bond. You continue your investigation into Emily’s disappearance and I’ll have DS Cavanagh involved with the Joanna Carter death. See if we can figure out if there’s a connection at all between the two. Everything goes through me and then the DCI and DSI. Whether it’s murder or suicide, hopefully we can find out quickly.’

  ‘You think it was a fall, a push, or…’ Mark didn’t need to finish. He never liked the S word. It felt wrong, somehow. ‘I mean, was any evidence found on the roof of the building that could give any indication?’

  ‘No obvious signs of a struggle or someone being held against their will, if that’s what you mean. Doesn’t mean that didn’t happen though. Could have been cleaned up in an attempt to hide the truth. Forensics are going over the rooftop as we speak. The building is over fifteen floors high. She lived on the fourth floor. Seems an odd place to find yourself, that far up.’

  ‘CCTV in the building proving useful at all? Does it cover much of the inside?’

  DI Bennett hummed an agreement. ‘Lobby and entrance. And lifts. We’re going over
the footage now. Her phone had a few missed calls, but that was it. They were all from her family. We’ve spoken to one of the other students who said she tried knocking at her room last night, but when she didn’t get an answer, she just assumed she had earphones in.’

  ‘No easy answers from me, boss,’ Mark said, moving his hand to the back of his head and massaging some life into his neck. ‘All I can tell you is that even if Emily is involved, I doubt you’ll get far with the family. All they can say at the moment is that she was “troubled”, whatever that means. There is one more thing though…’

  ‘What’s that?’ DI Bennett replied.

  ‘I spoke to the youngest kid earlier. Just before we had to leave to go to the Royal to identify the body. He said something about the uncle, which is an avenue we really should consider alongside all of this. He made a comment that if something had happened to Emily, then we should possibly look towards him. And there was something about Emily getting attention, implying that maybe the uncle had been giving her unwanted attention. Which would make him a much better suspect than Emily herself, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘This is becoming more convoluted by the minute. At the moment, we have nothing to tie that in with the actual dead woman we’ve found. So, if something was happening with the uncle, that might be secondary?’

  ‘Possibly,’ Mark replied, turning the thought over in his mind to see how it fit. Realised quickly that nothing did. ‘Something to consider down the line, maybe? Always best to be ahead of the game, I suppose.’

  ‘You’ve been on this twenty-four hours now,’ DI Bennett said finally, after a few moments of silence. ‘Setting the other death to one side, what have been your initial thoughts – the disappearance, intentional or not? What do you think about this family?’

  Mark paused, trying to shake his thoughts into some semblance of order. ‘There’s something there, under the surface. Something we’re not being told. I’ve got no idea what it is, or if it’s even anything to do with either Emily’s disappearance or the dead woman. Could just be like every other family we know.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Secrets and lies. Every family has those. I can only keep digging. People don’t go missing out of the blue – well, not often, anyway. Not without some kind of reason. She’s out there and we need to find her. Every minute that passes, well, I don’t have to tell you what the likely outcome will be.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ DI Bennett said with a sigh. There was a pause, then she continued. ‘This is why I hate missing person cases. Far too many questions and never enough answers. How are the family holding up?’

  ‘As best as they can, under the circumstances. I really wish I hadn’t had to take them to the Royal though. Doesn’t exactly make us look good.’

  ‘No, you’re right. But there was nothing in the initial report that mentioned distinguishing features. If there was, we wouldn’t have done that. Don’t worry. I’ve made sure that uniform will be told of proper practices.’

  Mark ended the call and opened the door back inside. He needed to prepare the family for the next stage. How would they react to having to appear in front of a bunch of cameras? How would they cope with the scrutiny they were about to expose themselves to?

  Sixteen

  Mark hovered in the doorway of the living room. He could see the youngest in the family, scowling at the television in the corner. He turned over the boy’s words from earlier that day, trying to find a way of fitting in Joanna Carter if the uncle was involved.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Natasha.

  He checked it in the kitchen, putting his half-drunk cup of tea on the side. Smiled at the sight of her name and the message attached.

  Thinking of you.

  Mark fired off a quick response in kind, then pocketed his phone. A thought flashed through his head as he did so, the worry that things were moving too quickly between them. He quickly banished it, hoping that he was wrong. That sometimes, things are just right.

  He shook his head and tried to forget what was happening a world away from where he was. Where his life was. Went back to work.

  Charlie seemed to relax a little once his uncle left, something Mark noted. It had been almost imperceptible, but he had noticed the lad’s shoulders lose a little tension. But Mark still wasn’t sure if he was reading into things that weren’t there. He’d tried to engage Charlie in conversation again, but had seen all his attempts swatted back at him.

  ‘I’m going upstairs,’ Charlie mumbled, pushing past Mark as he continued to stand half-in and half-out of the living room. Mark waited for Julie to protest, but she barely acknowledged him leaving. Stephanie was staring at the phone in her hand, her thumb resting on the screen and then scrolling down.

  ‘Have you been sharing the story around?’ Mark said, walking into the room. He placed his file of notes down on the windowsill for a few seconds, trying to make the next transition as easy as possible. He needed to go upstairs and look over Emily’s bedroom. ‘Don’t let yourself get bogged down in all that social media stuff.’

  ‘What else am I supposed to do?’ Stephanie replied, glancing up at him then returning her gaze back to the screen. ‘Her photo has been shared a few thousand times now. I’m just making sure nothing gets missed.’

  ‘I understand, but there are people checking into that sort of thing.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it doesn’t hurt to have another set of eyes on it as well, does it?’

  Mark didn’t have an answer for her, so instead turned to Julie, who hadn’t reacted. She was watching the television in the corner of the room, a twenty-four-hour news channel playing quietly. It wouldn’t be long before Joanna Carter was named as the body found earlier, which would drive it home to this family that Emily was still out there. Still unfound.

  ‘All the time in the world to talk about some no-mark celeb, but nothing about my girl,’ Julie said, the words spat out of her mouth with more vehemence than Mark had been expecting. ‘You’d think they’d be at least a little interested.’

  ‘People go missing every day,’ Stephanie replied, before Mark had a chance to say anything. ‘They’d never talk about anything else if they just talked about all the young people who had disappeared.’

  Julie shaped as if to turn on her daughter and say something, but she closed her mouth instead. Mark guessed what she was about to say.

  It mattered more when it was your own. You wanted everyone to feel the same way as you. To care as much. And it was never going to be that way and you knew it to be true. You never know the moment your life changes forever. Not until later, when you can look back and pinpoint it. He thought that would be what Julie would be doing now, going over every single moment she could possibly remember, trying to discover the moment when things had changed. When her daughter could have been saved from whatever was happening to her.

  Mark knew it was never that simple.

  He also knew the odds in play now. No suggestion of issues, no history of running away, no reason to leave… a young woman going missing in those circumstances usually doesn’t end well. Or they’re hiding something big enough that their life is never the same even if they do return.

  But the blood. Mark kept returning to the blood that had been found.

  Red equals danger.

  * * *

  ‘I just keep thinking of that poor girl’s parents,’ Julie said, a flicker of sadness flashing across her face. ‘They won’t get a second chance like we have.’

  ‘Do you mind if I take another look in Emily’s room?’ Mark said, on his feet before he’d finished the question. ‘I know uniformed police have already gone through it, but I want to make sure we haven’t overlooked anything at all. Even the smallest thing might help.’

  Julie nodded, waving him away with one hand as she turned the volume up on the television. Stephanie caught his eye as he slipped past, but he didn’t stop.

  Mark heard soft music escaping from underneath a d
oor as he reached the top of the stairs. Charlie – secluding himself away and listening to something vaguely familiar to him. A voice he’d heard on the radio or somewhere recently. He paused outside the door, trying to place the artist’s name, but eventually gave up. Downstairs, he heard mumbled voices, but couldn’t make out what was being said.

  He walked across and pushed down on the handle to another room on the landing. He didn’t need to go inside, recognising the room as belonging to an older woman. The dressing table on view, the carefully placed ornaments, perfumes. He decided it was Julie’s room and turned back around. Down a short passage, he knew from an earlier trip, lay the bathroom, so he pushed open the door leading to the only other room leading off.

  Stepping inside, Mark felt a wave of emotion hit him. The reality of what was left behind, now stark and uncompromising. He shuffled forwards, leaving the door open behind him as he walked further into the room.

  It was always this way for him. The smallest details suddenly hitting him the hardest. It was never the feelings of those waiting for a loved one to reappear. It was the items the person missing had held dear to them. The things and objects that they had kept closest to them, in the one room where they probably felt safest.

  Not always, of course. He’d dealt with enough cases over the years to know that for some, it was the bedroom which became a prison. The abuse they would suffer, the pain and hurt that would occur.

  He hoped that wasn’t the case for Emily. Mark thought of the burly Uncle Rich – the manner of him. The way he filled any space he occupied. He heard the words of his superior echoing around his mind. It’s usually someone close to them.

  Charlie’s words rolled around there too.

  The room was larger than he’d expected, but then he imagined until recently, both twins would have been sleeping there. That would have vastly reduced the space, but he knew Stephanie had moved out and away to university a year or so earlier. The room had a dark vibe to it, but elements of typical teenage girl life also. A few posters dotted the walls, some canvas art prints which depicted some film stars he recognised. A book cover he didn’t – a pale hand holding a green apple, the black background giving the image a sinister overtone. The words Life and Death emblazoned above it.

 

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