by Carol Wyer
‘Where was her father during the search?’
‘Stephen Briggs works for a marketing company and is currently away on business in Glasgow. He was notified of Audrey’s disappearance and arranged to drive back to Samford without delay. We didn’t want to break the news that we’d found her body over the phone, especially while he was driving. Understandably, Mrs Briggs is in a bad state. She’s got a liaison officer with her until her husband returns – Tanya Granger.’
‘I was with her earlier today,’ said Natalie. ‘She was with Beatrice Sawyer, Ava’s mother.’
‘Yes, she didn’t want to leave Beatrice, but there was no one else free and Beatrice’s mother was on her way to stay with her.’
‘Officers came across Audrey’s body at eight twenty-five p.m. and I got dragged away from the lab. I hear you’re heading the enquiry into her death.’
‘That’s right. We think that case might be related to this one.’
‘That’s a tough gig.’ His eyes rested on hers for a moment and he offered a kindly smile. ‘I’ll take you to her if you’re ready.’
Natalie couldn’t reply. She really didn’t want to look but what option had she got? To keep morbid thoughts at bay, she kept talking as they first crossed the road and then took the footpath beside the park’s high railings. An unmarked police Audi pulled up ahead of them, and Lucy and Ian emerged from it.
‘I know she’s only an eight-year-old but did Audrey own a mobile phone?’
‘Yes, but she didn’t take it with her to the shop. We checked it but we didn’t find anything of relevance on it. She used it mostly to play games and stay in contact with her mum. I was going send to the lab to double-check but if you want to look at it…’
‘No, it’s okay. Send it across.’
They passed an ambulance with its back door open and a white forensic van. Both pulled up onto the verge and reached the entrance to the park, which was flanked by two officers.
‘How many entrances to the park are there?’
‘There’s the main entrance, accessed from the town centre, and this one.’
A noticeboard adjacent to the open gate showed a map of the park layout. The more commonly used walkways, playground and bowling green were located closer to the main entrance. The path in front of her forked approximately fifty metres ahead – one way leading to the river, the other to the bandstand and beyond to the formal gardens. A small cough behind her alerted her to the presence of her team. Together they entered the park.
Queen’s Park was more of a formal garden than a park, with walks around raised beds, floral displays and monuments to fallen heroes plus fine statues of people Natalie had never heard of. It was a popular attraction with grassy banks that flanked the River Blithe, frequented by flotillas of ducks observed by large numbers of picnicking locals during summer months. The park provided the usual recreational facilities for families, along with a multi-play area for toddlers. The team’s route took them past massive dark trees, each bearing a wooden nameplate explaining their origin, and thick vegetation. At the fork, they turned right onto a narrower path marked, ‘Gardens and Playground’.
Judging by the activity ahead, they’d almost reached the spot. Natalie steeled herself. She recognised one of Mike’s team immediately. He was in a crouched position, his back hiding whatever was in front of him. He rose as they approached and shifted to one side. Natalie released the breath she’d been unknowingly holding. A pink bike was on its side in the grass.
His eyes acknowledged her presence. Mike spoke again. ‘It’s a Bridgford Rainbow Girls Classic Heritage bike in pale pink with a front wicker basket. I think they’re quite popular. Thea has the exact same one.’
‘Audrey’s?’ she asked.
‘We believe so. It’s about a hundred metres from her body. We’re checking it over for prints. Looking at the tyre marks in the grass, I’d say she braked hurriedly and threw the bike down. It’s not been laid down with care, more likely cast aside. You can see traces of dirt on the right handlebar where it struck the soft grass and mud first.’ He shone a torch onto the area in question.
Natalie wiped sweaty palms against her trousers. Darkness had now fallen and only the pathways in the grounds were lit. Behind them were dark bushes, shadowy sinister forms that could conceal a person. Murray, closest to her, voiced her own thoughts.
‘Audrey might have been frightened by something or somebody hiding in the undergrowth, dumped the bike and run away,’ he said.
Natalie nodded.
Ian added his own thoughts. ‘I still don’t understand why she was here. She was supposed to be going to the shop, which is in the opposite direction.’
‘She got waylaid?’ Lucy offered. ‘Maybe a friend met her as she was coming out of her house and called her over to the park.’
‘Then why was she alone? What happened to her friend?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘Got me there. I don’t know. Maybe it’s something we should consider though.’
‘Is there any CCTV in this park?’ Natalie directed her question to Mike.
‘Only on the main gate, near the greenhouse and overlooking the children’s play area. Nothing here. There are none along the street where she lived either.’
Natalie tutted. ‘That’s a pain. We’ll need all CCTV footage regardless. See if we can trace her movements or indeed identify anyone in the park at the time of her disappearance. Ian, can you arrange that?’
‘Will do.’
Following Mike, they moved away from the bike, across the damp lawns of springy grass towards artificial lights. Natalie slowed her pace, her ears drumming. Fifty metres ahead, white-suited officers were at work close to a large chestnut tree, whose wide branches spread like protective arms over some bushy evergreen shrubs, which were about two metres in height and fifty in length.
‘What a fucking nightmare for her parents,’ Lucy whispered. Natalie could only agree. She balled her hands to stop them from shaking.
Natalie lifted a hand. ‘Stay here,’ she said to Lucy and Ian. ‘Don’t want us all tramping over the crime scene.’ She beckoned for Murray and, slipping on plastic gloves and overshoe protectors, took a deep breath.
The sight of the slight figure flat on her back was heartbreaking. There’d been no attempt to bury the child. Her legs, in pale-pink tights, stuck out straight in front of her, feet in flat, pink dance pumps, and her arms were limp by her sides, palms face up. Her pageboy hair had fallen away from her sweet face with its upturned nose. Her pale-violet eyelids were closed, her head tilted to one side, as if she were asleep.
‘We haven’t moved her but you can see a mark on her neck,’ said Mike.
Natalie looked at the red ligature across the girl’s throat. It was difficult to work out what had caused it. She knew better than to assume. The mark could have been caused after death or be unrelated to her death. Policing taught you to never jump to conclusions.
‘Didn’t you say she came in from the class and went straight out to the shop?’ Natalie asked.
‘That’s right.’
‘I doubt she was dressed like this for a dance class.’ Audrey was wearing a lemon chiffon dress that had been spread out neatly to show off its pleats and the large yellow bow around her midriff.
Natalie looked the child up and down, all the while wishing she could lift her and breathe life back into her still body. She blocked such thoughts. ‘There are grubby stains on both knees and on her palms. Could be grass stains. She might have fallen off her bike and stained them then, or tried to crawl away from her assailant. Her tights are dirty and I think there’s mud or dirt on the soles of her shoes. The dress, however, looks new.’
Murray’s voice was barely audible. ‘Ava Sawyer was wearing a yellow dress when she disappeared.’
Natalie’s stomach churned like a washing machine. Her words forced their way between her lips. ‘I know. That’s what really bothers me. Somebody has dressed Audrey up for a party. Her dress has been arranged. Not onl
y is she in a party dress, her lips are unusually red. I think she’s wearing lipstick – reddish lipstick.’ Natalie bent closer to study the child’s face, trying hard not to focus too much on the angry ligature around the child’s neck.
‘Is it normal for an eight-year-old to be wearing lipstick?’ asked Murray.
‘I’m sure girls of all ages try out make-up. Leigh used to when she was this age. Maybe she put some on at the dance school. We’ll talk to her mother and discuss this further at the station,’ said Natalie, suddenly keen to move away from the little girl. ‘Would you video the scene, please? And when the pathologist arrives, get his initial thoughts on cause of death. I also want to know if anyone interfered with her sexually.’ She repressed a shudder at her words and rejoined the rest of the team.
‘Ian, continue with door-to-door enquiries. Obviously, we need to secure the park too.’
Ian nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll sort it.’
‘I wonder if the clothes she was wearing are missing. I’m hoping they’re somewhere nearby and we can get them tested for DNA. Mike, will you let us know if you unearth them?’
‘Sure, I’ll get back to my team and see what we can find.’ He strode away into the darkness.
‘We have the more pressing task of talking to Caroline Briggs, Audrey’s mum. You okay with that?’ she asked Lucy, who nodded her assent.
They trudged back the way they’d come. Outside on the road, activity had intensified with police vehicles departing and forensic teams arriving. Drawing closer to the house, Natalie spotted a curtain twitch at a neighbour’s downstairs window and sighed. News was spreading fast. More people had gathered and the first flowers – a bunch of daffodils – had been left near the police cordon. Soon the media circus would begin and Caroline and Stephen would be faced with more than just the nightmare of their daughter’s death. Ian was making his way towards the nearest group, arms motioning for them to move away. It was only natural everyone would want to know what was going on, but Natalie only had thoughts for the grieving mother. She tapped on the door and was greeted by Tanya, who ushered them inside and shut the door immediately behind them.
The house, an unexceptional semi-detached residence with a plain carpeted entrance, somehow felt homely with a pink Frozen school bag hanging from a banister, shoes kicked off haphazardly by the door and coats hanging from gaily coloured pegs, each with a name above it: Caroline, Audrey, Libby and Stephen. It was dreadful that such tragedy had entered these people’s lives.
Caroline Briggs was a petite woman with elfin features. She seemed dwarfed by the settee she sat on, knees drawn to her stomach, arms clasped around them, her cheeks stained with tears. Tanya sat beside her. Natalie introduced herself and Lucy and offered her sincerest condolences. Caroline couldn’t look at her.
‘I told them she’d been taken,’ said Caroline, hugging her knees more tightly. ‘I knew it the moment she didn’t come back from the shop. It wasn’t like her.’
‘Are you feeling up to talking to us?’
Caroline looked at her, eyes glassy with tears, and nodded.
‘If you could go through everything that happened when you got home again, that would be really helpful,’ said Natalie, quietly.
Caroline sniffed back tears. ‘I picked Audrey up from school at the usual time – three twenty. She has a ballet class at the dance academy in town every Wednesday so I dropped her off and collected her again at four thirty. It’s about fifteen minutes from here. As soon as she got in, Audrey went straight to the fridge. Said she was thirsty after all the dancing. We’d run out of cola. That’s her favourite drink.’ She stopped, caught unaware by her words. She lifted wet eyes and whispered. ‘Was her favourite drink.’
She studied a spot on the ceiling for a moment and then picked up where she’d left off. ‘The baby was screaming and needed changing so I told Audrey to wait and we’d go get some, or to drink some juice instead, but she insisted on cola and asked if she could go and buy some herself. There’s a convenience store we use regularly at the bottom of the street and it isn’t far away. I wasn’t too keen to agree. I get nervous when she’s out of sight, especially after what happened to Ava Sawyer, but it really wasn’t far away and I’ve let her go once or twice before. I gave her the money – two one-pound coins – for the drink and went upstairs to change Libby and put her down for a nap, but she was really grouchy – she’s teething at the moment – so it took a long time to get her to settle. When I came downstairs, it was twenty past five and Audrey still hadn’t returned. I thought at first there might have been a queue at the shop. There’s only one till and sometimes Rod chats a long time to the customers he’s serving. Then another ten minutes passed and I wondered what was keeping her. I collected Libby and went to the shop. It’s only a ten-minute walk. There was no sign of her so I asked Rod if she’d been in, but he hadn’t seen her. I knew straight away something had happened to her.’ She began to rock, a slow steady rhythm.
‘You didn’t assume she might have stopped off to chat to friends or gone off with them?’
Caroline’s answer was hampered by attempts to prevent herself from crying. ‘No. She wouldn’t do that. Not after what happened to Ava. I told her she was never to talk to strangers and always make sure I knew where she was. Ava didn’t tell anyone where she was going and she disappeared. Audrey was terribly upset and frightened after that party. She would never, ever go off without telling me where she was. No way.’ Her final words were barely audible. She pressed her lips together tightly until they turned white, and rocked again.
‘Did she often go to the park?’
Fresh tears rolled over her cheeks. ‘Now and again but she wouldn’t have gone without telling me.’
‘But if a friend had happened to call her from over the road, maybe?’
‘There’s quite a bit of traffic that uses this road and she isn’t allowed to cross it alone.’ Again Caroline shook her head and pointed out a photo of Audrey holding onto a furry black puppy licking her chin. ‘That was Muffin. He was Audrey’s puppy. She absolutely adored him. Dog daft, she is… was. She’d been desperate for a dog and eventually we gave in and bought Muffin for her. He escaped from our front garden six months ago, belted across that road and was struck by a car. It was horrible. We both saw it happen but couldn’t save him. Audrey was completely cut up about it, but she knew to never cross that road unless she used the pelican crossing near the shop, or she was with me.’
A baby began wailing upstairs. Caroline shifted uncomfortably at the sound. She wiped her stained cheeks with the back of her hand and unfurled from the settee. ‘That’s Libby. I have to get her.’
As soon as she’d left the room, Natalie looked across at Tanya. ‘Any news from her husband?’
‘He ought to be home soon. He hasn’t rung. Last he heard his daughter was missing.’
‘Shit,’ whispered Lucy. ‘He doesn’t know yet?’
Tanya shook her head.
Caroline returned with a red-faced baby, who stopped crying when she saw there were visitors. Caroline sat down again and held the child on her knee. Libby stuffed a fist into her mouth and stared at Natalie with wide eyes.
Natalie spoke again. ‘Caroline, what was Audrey wearing when she went out?’
‘Her ballet outfit: black leotard, pale-pink tights and pink dance pumps, and her favourite pink cardigan. That one.’ She pointed at a picture of Audrey beaming a gap-toothed grin. The cardigan was bright pink and hung down her skinny frame almost reaching her knees. Audrey’s hands were stuffed in the pockets and she had half-opened it to show off her T-shirt bearing her name written out in glitter.
‘Was she wearing any lipstick?’
Caroline shook her head. ‘She sat in the passenger seat in the car and we chatted about her lesson. I’d have noticed if she’d been wearing lipstick.’
‘Might she have borrowed yours when you went upstairs to change the baby?’
‘I don’t see how or why. She left straight awa
y with the money. Why are you asking?’
‘We think she might have been wearing lipstick,’ said Natalie.
Creases formed in Caroline’s forehead. ‘She wasn’t when I last saw her. Where would she have got it? I’ll check to make sure she didn’t take mine.’
‘Want me to hold her?’ Tanya held out her arms for the baby.
Caroline passed the infant across and stood up. Her handbag was on a nearby table. She rummaged through it and extracted a silver container. ‘It’s here.’
‘You have others?’
‘No. I only wear the one shade. I buy a new one when it runs out.’ She pulled the top off to reveal a pale-pink lipstick.
The front door opened and shut with a bang and a voice called out, ‘Caroline.’
More tears filled her eyes.
A man appeared in the doorway, his suit rumpled and his tie undone.
‘Oh, Stephen!’ she said, her head shaking from side to side.
He rushed towards her and scooped her into his arms. His voice cracked. ‘I know. I know. As soon as I saw the police cars, I knew.’
Natalie rose to leave. She’d not be able to talk to Caroline again for the time being.
Stephen swivelled his upper body in her direction and spoke, his voice tremulous. ‘I need some time alone with my wife.’
‘Of course you do. PC Granger will wait outside and I’ll return tomorrow. I’d like to add we’re truly sorry for your loss.’
His lips quivered and he turned his attention back to Caroline, wrapping his arms around her more tightly and resting his forehead against the top of her head.
Nine
THEN
His mother blows her nose with one of the monogrammed handkerchiefs she received as a Christmas gift from Granny. It has small, purple flowers embroidered in one corner: violets, his mother had told him, on account of her name. He likes the thought of his mother being named after a flower even if she looks nothing like one. He’d wondered what scent a violet would have. After she’d put the hankies away in her drawer, he’d hunted one out and studied the stitching, tracing the raised flowers with his chubby fingers. He’d held it to his nose but there was no perfume.
