by Sarah Flint
Naz, on the other hand, wanted to set the world on fire but, having had two children with different fathers, was now tied down with childcare issues. The world that she inhabited was much smaller and more contained than she’d ever envisaged. Young, black, feisty and proud of the tattooed cleavage regularly on display, she relied on both her mother and grandmother babysitting to enable her to work during the week and, more importantly, to socialize at the weekends. Charlie loved them both.
Colin remained seated but nodded his agreement with the sentiment.
Bet ambled over to the kettle and started a brew. Almost immediately Paul piped up with his plans for this weekend’s escapades. Things were the same as always and she was glad to be back to her usual routine, even though her head was throbbing annoyingly.
She let Paul talk without really listening and instead walked across to Colin who was, as usual, bent over his computer screen. He looked up.
‘Didn’t expect you back so soon. Sounds like you were lucky from what the boss was saying.’
‘Think we were all lucky,’ Paul chipped in from across the room. ‘Two days concussed in hospital without Charlie saying a word. Must be a record?’
‘Two minutes of silence from you would be a record,’ she responded, to grunts of agreement from the others. Paul laughed and pulled an imaginary zip across his lips.
‘Well it’s all been happening here while you were off.’ Colin turned back to his computer, bringing up the missing person report which had now lengthened to dozens of pages of enquiries. He was never one to indulge in the office banter for any longer than needed.
‘Yes, so I hear. Hunter said that the case had been escalated to a major enquiry and that after my assault Hubbard’s propensity to violence is being re-examined in minute detail. Can you give me a potted version of what’s been done so far? I expect you’ve been keeping tabs on it, seeing as you knew the family?’
Colin nodded and scrolled down through the pages of enquiries.
‘Well, it’s as full scale an enquiry as it could be without bodies; not quite a murder investigation as yet, but not far from it. In fact, the Murder Investigation Team is being consulted regularly. Nothing’s been heard from them now for two weeks. Let me see. They’ve been making enquiries with banks, building societies, Equifax and the department dealing with child benefits. They’ve also sent out port notifications to airports and ferry ports. CCTV is being gone through from all the local shopping areas, railway stations and roads around where they live. Both Julie and Richard’s mobile phones were switched off early on the Friday evening they disappeared, so every conceivable check is being made on where and when they were last used, and any contacts.’
‘Nothing positive as yet?’
‘No. It doesn’t look as if there have been any real steps forward. They’ve got forensics in Hubbard’s house at the moment, scouring it with a fine-toothed comb.’
‘Well they’ll be lucky to find anything. Hubbard had cleaned it all before we even got there.’
‘And forensics were there after your GBH.’
‘Well, I hope that examination hasn’t jeopardized the main one then. He’s got to be the number one suspect in their disappearance. If he had a problem with his missus that’s bad enough, but if he’s done something to his kid…’
‘You never really know what goes on within families.’ Colin clicked the report shut and leant back. ‘You only have to look at the news to see what it does to men when they’re threatened with losing access to their kids.’
His voice tailed off as he turned and looked away from her, towards the window. A cloud rolled across the sun almost at the moment he spoke. She followed the shadow as it moved across the windowsill.
‘Sorry Colin. I know it’s a bit close to home for you. Have you had any more luck getting access recently?’
Colin turned back, his eyes hard. ‘It’s a work in progress, Charlie. I think I’m beginning to win. The kids are dying to see me these days.’
‘Glad to hear it. You could use a bit of luck in your situation.’
‘Ah is that DC Stafford’s voice I can hear. Good to have you back, though you should have had more time off to recover.’
Charlie looked up recognizing Hunter’s voice booming across the office. He looked genuinely pleased to see her, though she knew he didn’t mean what he’d just said. He’d barely had a day off sick in all his thirty-seven years.
‘Can I have a quick word please?’
She nodded and followed him through to his office, closing the door against the eyes she knew would be following her. The room was only small but it was neat, well ordered and compact. Photos of Hunter’s children sat proudly on his desk. He was grooming his son to take over from him when he did eventually retire.
‘I’ll come straight to the point. The CPS is dropping your case. Have a read of this. I suspected it might happen.’
He passed her a single piece of A4 paper on which a few paragraphs were typed before turning away in obvious frustration. ‘We winged it a bit when we sent the original file to them, exaggerated how good we hoped the forensic stuff would be. It’s turned out to be pretty useless and totally inconclusive. Now they’ve got the full file they don’t think we’ve got a hope in hell. Hubbard, as I told you, is already out on bail and the case will almost certainly be dropped this afternoon. I’ve tried to reason with them, but I haven’t really got much of a leg to stand on, to be honest.’
He stopped talking and the silence lengthened as she read the CPS memo, short, succinct and brutal. Unless fresh evidence came to light the case would be dropped. Keith Hubbard would get away with it. Even though she’d expected the news, she still couldn’t trust herself to speak. Placing the letter back on Hunter’s desk carefully, she got up and walked unsteadily to the door, opening it wide. Half a dozen eyes turned to watch and she couldn’t bear the pressure of them. She turned back to see Hunter stand and take a pace towards her. She held out her hand to stop him touching her. She didn’t want to cry and any contact was likely to start the tears. He paused.
‘If my case is being dropped,’ she said, loud enough for the main office to hear. ‘There shouldn’t be any conflict of interest if I helped out further with the investigation into his missing wife and child? So could I be seconded on to the full investigation team for at least a while? I can’t just sit back and do nothing.’
Hunter tilted his head and pursed his lips as he stared back at her, considering the request.
‘I think it’s probably the least we can do. Though you will have to be careful you act completely professionally and any progress you make doesn’t look personal.’
He smiled knowingly at her and she noticed his eyes were glinting dangerously.
‘I’ll have a word and see if we both can.’
Chapter 9
It wasn’t fair that Julie was dead. She was supposed to have lived much longer. He’d wanted to keep her there, slowly dying of starvation. Slowly, so slowly, knowing that her son was dead beside her. She was supposed to have lasted at least a month, even up to six weeks. He’d read all about it:
Most doctors and nutritionists state that the average person can live between four to six weeks without food, but a week is a miracle without water.
It was nothing more than she deserved. The fucking bitch. But she’d died already. Too soon, far too soon. He couldn’t believe it had happened and yet it had.
A lot depended on the person’s state of mind and willpower as well as their body weight and climate.
But she hadn’t been too fat or too skinny and he’d thrown down bedding to keep her from freezing. Maybe she’d deliberately wasted all the water in a bid to die quickly and cheat him of even this pleasure. That must have been it. She’d spat out the water. He hadn’t been able to come for a few days but there should have been enough for her to survive until he returned. But the bitch had spat it out just to spite him and now she was dead. They both were. Her and Richard, her spoilt brat of a son, m
ummy’s little favourite blue-eyed boy; the golden child who could do nothing wrong.
He stamped downwards on to her head, pleased at the sight of the dirty footprint he left on her face, down her nose, across her cheeks. She was supposed to be alive, damn it. She was supposed to be staring up at him, pleading for survival, desperate to live. Then she’d know what it was like to be lonely. Then she’d know what it was like to be there, but not to be there; to be unseen, unheard, unwanted, unloved. Just as he had been.
He’d read so much. This time he’d wanted to get it right, to make her pay. To make all the conniving mothers pay for their greedy, selfish needs.
‘Fuck.’ He screamed the word out loud again and again and again. There was no one there. No one ever was. It had been the perfect place to watch and examine and see.
Immediately after death, the heart stops pumping blood around the body and gravity drags the blood down until it pools in blood vessels in the back of the legs and spine. Cells in the body die as there is no oxygen for them to carry out their normal metabolic functions. Neurons die within minutes. Skin cells can last for days because they are able to perform without oxygen. This is called anaerobic fermentation and lactic acid is a by-product. Lactic acid causes rigor mortis which lasts for about thirty-six hours.
He’d watched as this had begun to happen to Richard. So spoilt, so perfect, but not so fucking perfect now, eh? He’d bent down and poked at the body. The experts were right. It had been stiff and unbending.
Bacterial cells, which normally live in the intestine begin to rapidly multiply and digestive enzymes start digesting the body’s own tissues. Assuming the body is untouched, insects arrive to the scene very quickly as they are extremely sensitive to the smell of decomposition. Flies lay eggs in skin openings and in entrances to the body - nose, ears and mouth - and maggots will hatch.
He’d watched this too; down in the pit. He’d watched and enjoyed as the insects had arrived. He’d shone a torch and seen how they crawled all over them both. How she couldn’t swat them away. How she’d spat and blown them from her mouth and nose. He’d liked that bit. And then there was the smell:
Gases are released giving the body a terrible smell, and the abdomen fills with liquid. This stinking liquid attracts more flies, beetles and other insects. A body can feel warm to the touch at this point due to all of the insect activity. Exposed parts that haven’t yet been consumed start to turn black ten to twenty days after death.
He’d reached down and touched Richard’s skin. It was warm and swollen and the smell filled his nostrils and hair. Even hours later he could still smell the stench of death. It had amused him on the packed underground to see other passengers wrinkle up their noses. They must have smelt it too, but they didn’t know what it was, like he did. The putrid smell of death. The smell of his justice.
Between twenty to fifty days after death, the body begins to dry out and beetles take over. They can chew through the remaining tendons and ligaments, until all that is left is bone and hair. Between fifty to 365 days after death, moths and bacteria consume the hair. All that is left is bone, which can last indefinitely.
And now he wouldn’t get the chance to see if the experts were right. The evil cow had taken away the chance. He had no reason to come back now, unless he just wanted to watch, to continue with the experiment. But it didn’t mean the same now because she wouldn’t be part of it any longer. Julie Hubbard wouldn’t be living his experiment.
He slammed the trap-door back down on the pit. She might have ruined everything this time but now, at least, he would have the chance to start all over again. He would build a new lair nearby and complete the experiment with the next pair.
He grabbed his shovel and started to search for a good location. A shiver of excitement ran through him at the thought. It wouldn’t be hard. Women were fickle creatures. They couldn’t hide their emotions. He could always recognize a special child.
After all, his own brother had been Mummy’s favourite before his untimely death.
Chapter 10
Charlie sat at the back of Court One at Camberwell Green Magistrates’ Court quietly waiting. Meg sat next to her, deep in thought. She had insisted on coming, much against Charlie’s wishes, but now she was here Charlie was glad. Although there was a huge emotional hole in their relationship, her mother was always there on a practical level. Charlie knew she would fight to the death to protect them all.
The door to the court swung open and Hunter sidled in, dipping his head towards the magistrate and sliding along the wooden bench towards her. She knew that he had believed every single word of what had happened and not just because he had been there. He hadn’t witnessed the push, nor had he heard all of the whispered conversation that had led up to the assault. Hunter knew the truth, without having to see it with his own eyes.
There were a few warrant applications to be heard and then they were on.
She looked at the magistrate; the man with the power. He was only a small man with narrow shoulders hidden in a loosely fitted dark grey jacket, set off with a flamboyant bright red dicky bow. His skin was sallow in appearance and he wore dark-rimmed spectacles which he would push up on top of his receding hairline when he wasn’t inspecting paperwork. His face wore a kindly expression but this could change in an instant if he didn’t get the answer he required. He would be reviewing the evidence in Hubbard’s case shortly and Charlie wondered whether he would be looking kindly at Hubbard or her.
Both the prosecution and defence were in place now, seated with piles of paperwork and files in front of them. Ms Annabel Leigh-Matthews looked smug before they’d even started, with a supercilious expression that Charlie immediately wanted to wipe off her face. The prosecution solicitor was still leafing through the file. Knowing the CPS like she did, she guessed it had probably been foisted on him that morning and he was desperately trying to acquaint himself fully with its contents as they waited.
The clerk nodded towards the usher who scurried out of the court obediently. She returned less than a minute later with Hubbard in tow. He was smartly dressed today in suit and tie, the epitome of a good, honest, hard-working family man, and he smiled towards the magistrate as he made his way into the dock. He played the part well. Charlie could barely recognizable him from the man who had snarled his contempt towards her from the top of his stairs.
Within minutes it was clear to Charlie that the fact that her life had been seriously threatened was of no consequence against the rights of Hubbard, as asserted by Ms Annabel Leigh-Matthews. The CPS rep all but withdrew every claim the case had relied on.
As both sides sat to await the verdict, the magistrate stared at the CPS solicitor for what seemed like ages before casting his gaze towards Hubbard, who immediately looked down. The magistrate turned towards Charlie. Their eyes held each other’s and she sensed his reluctance and sympathy, and even though she had not been introduced as such, she knew that he had recognized in her the victim. He was clearly on her side but with the absence of the prosecution council producing any credible evidence there was nothing he could do.
He nodded, almost unnoticed, towards Charlie before looking straight at Hubbard.
‘In this instance, I, unfortunately, have no option but to accept the assertions made by the defence. Case dismissed.’
He remained staring at Hubbard for several seconds longer and she was glad to see her assailant visibly shrinking under his gaze. Clearly the magistrate had not had the wool pulled over his eyes. He just had no alternative.
Ms Annabel Leigh-Matthews closed her file with a slight flourish and nodded towards the magistrate and then turned and smiled at Hubbard, indicating with her head for him to follow her.
It had taken less than ten minutes for the defence to wipe the floor with the CPS rep.
The prosecution solicitor, under the continued scrutiny of the magistrate, gathered up his papers, without attempting to sort them out and hurriedly exited the court-room, his head bowed, Charlie though
t, in shame. Hadn’t it been worth giving the case a run? After all, she was of previous good character and a policewoman. Hubbard had a history of violence, possibly even kidnap and murder. Couldn’t he have found a way to bring up Hubbard’s “bad character” to substantiate her case? But no, the easy option had been taken and there was no justice. There was never any justice for her family.
The anger was welling up inside her as she filed out of the court to see Hubbard with a grin all over his face as he shook hands with Ms Leigh-Matthews in the corridor outside the court. Now he was out, he was going to make the most of his legal victory. Ms Leigh-Matthews, at least, was trying to play down her pleasure at winning, but she couldn’t completely hide the glimmer of satisfaction at another professional triumph, a job well done.
Charlie remained tight-lipped as she and Hunter walked past, her head held high, daring them to challenge the truth. Meg trailed behind.
‘Congratulations,’ Meg said tightly. ‘I can imagine you’ve made both of your mothers proud today. Be sure the truth will eventually emerge though. Justice will always be done in the end.’
Charlie heard Hubbard laugh, a low mocking laugh that she knew was directed at her.
She caught the look on her mother’s face. She had obviously heard it too.
Charlie turned briefly as the pair started to follow them out through the revolving doors into the brightness of the spring sunshine. Rage and injustice was coursing through her now at his laughter. Hunter put a hand on her shoulder and a finger to his lips to silence her.
‘You’ll come again, you bastard. And next time you won’t be laughing,’ he murmured towards Hubbard, out of earshot of his solicitor but loud enough for him, Charlie and Meg to hear. He caught Charlie’s eye and nodded behind his shoulder.
A couple of smart-suited men she recognized well started to move towards them. They nodded their heads in recognition, before continuing past the three of them towards Hubbard and his solicitor.
