Bang on time, the two-carriage train screeched in and once she saw the drunken party all take the front coach, she took one of the back seats in the rear, going back to her social media, keeping her head down. Shuttling away from the station, the engine quickly picked up speed and the ten-minute journey to the first stop seemed to fly by. The revellers departed at the third station, leaving Kristine and a man and woman on the train. They all got off at Barnwell.
Kristine followed them over the footbridge to the front concourse of the station, where she saw that a car was waiting for the couple. As she watched them climb into the back and drive away, she wished it was her. All she wanted now was to kick off her shoes that were pinching her feet, have a couple of glasses of chilled wine and then have a nice hot shower before climbing into bed. As she looked around, she saw the car park was empty. She looked at her watch. It was quarter to midnight and she knew that all the buses had now stopped. Home was a mile away and she didn’t fancy walking with her aching feet. She took out her mobile and phoned the first taxi firm in her contacts. It rang and rang, but no one picked up and so she ended the call and tried the second. It was answered within seconds, but the call handler told her that a taxi couldn’t get to her before half-past-midnight, and quickly working out that by that time she could be home, she thanked him, didn’t book and ended the call.
Frustrated, Kristine cast her eyes around the deserted car park, told herself she could still be home before quarter past if she put in a spurt and set off, walking fast. By the time she had got to the end of the street, she was blowing hard and clawing for breath, and dropping her pace a fraction she crossed the road and took a shortcut across the fields in the direction of home.
Halfway along the street, it started to rain. It was only a drizzle, but by the time she was halfway across the fields, her hair was plastered to her face, droplets teeming down her cheeks onto her neck and trickling beneath her blouse. Worse still, the field was getting soggy and her shoes were letting in water.
‘Bloody hell. What a day. The sooner I’m home, the better,’ she mumbled to herself as she came to the exit. It was as she stepped out of the field that she suddenly got an uneasy feeling. As if she was being watched or followed. She quickly looked back, but the steady stream of rain made seeing difficult, and all she could make out were lines of dark trees against an even darker backdrop. She jogged across the narrow lane and headed toward the footpath that skirted past the old chapel, taking her into her estate. Another ten minutes and I’ll be home. She’d made this journey dozens of times and never thought anything of it, yet tonight she found her surroundings quite eerie. Probably because of the lateness of the hour and the lack of people around, she told herself, giving the front of the chapel a quick glance and straining her ears. All she could hear was the rain sizzling through the leaves of the trees lining the path before her.
The last part of her journey was in total darkness, and a cold prickly sensation ran down her back. She didn’t like it one bit, and looking quickly around she jogged onto the path. The trees’ canopy of autumn leaves offered her some respite from the rain and for that she was grateful, for her coat no longer offered any protection — her blouse was damp and sticking to her. She was relieved when she emerged from the path and could see the road that took her into her estate. She looked both ways and crossed the road.
Kristine had just stepped up onto the kerb when a flash of lightning lit up the sky, making her jump. Her breath caught in her throat as she clutched at her chest. ‘Jesus,’ she hissed through gritted teeth and set off again. I can’t stand much more of this. Thank God I’m nearly home. Lowering her head, ready to make a final dash, she picked up the sound of a vehicle coming from her right, and glancing sideways her gaze was met by a blaze of headlights that stung her eyes, causing them to close. She snatched away her head.
For a few seconds, she was blinded. All she could see were flashes behind her eyes and as she blinked them open, she became aware of the car slewing to a halt a few yards away. She turned to see a tall dark shape emerge from the driver’s side, skip around to the back where he sprang open the boot and then sprint towards her. It was in that split-second she saw the werewolf mask he was wearing and her heart leapt. She spun quickly, about to make a run for it, but he was on her in a second, one hand around her chest, the other clamped over her mouth. Kristine tried to scream, but it caught in her throat and panic swept in.
A second later, he had yanked her off her feet and was dragging her backwards. It suddenly dawned on her why he had flipped open the boot. She tried to struggle, pulling at his hands, but they were clamped tight. He was restricting her breathing, frightening her. And then, just as he was starting to force her into the boot, she heard the yells.
‘Oi!’ Quickly followed by, ‘What are you doing?’
She thought it sounded like two different voices and she knew it was help arriving. She kicked backwards with her right foot, her heel catching her attacker’s shin, her shoe shooting off. The man yelped, loosening his grip, and then he threw her to the ground. Kristine landed heavily, her face and hands both hitting the wet ground at the same moment, the jarring pain immediate. As she franticly pushed herself up, a spray of water whooshed over her, soaking her through. At the same time she could hear a car screeching and skidding away, followed by someone shouting, ‘Are you all right love?’ and ‘Phone the Police.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
The alarm woke Hunter at 6.30 a.m., and by the time he got to work his stomach was churning with hunger, so he headed straight for the canteen. Walking through the doors, he spotted Grace standing at the counter. He sidled up to her.
‘I hope that’s not a full English you’re having,’ he said, nudging her.
She turned. ‘Oh, morning, Hunter. And what are trying to say about me having a full English? Are you having a dig at my weight?’
Hunter held up his hands in surrender, a large grin lighting up his face. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’
‘And you’d better not. Anyway, you can talk; this is the second time in a week I’ve seen you in the canteen.’
‘That’s because it’s the only way I can see my old partner now I’ve been locked away in isolation.’
Grace let out a laugh, and before she could reply, she was handed a plate of poached egg on toast by one of the canteen staff. Offering Hunter a generous smile, she held out her plate of food. ‘You’ll be pleased to see, I’m still looking after my figure.’
Seeing her beaming smile reminded him how much he missed that greeting in the morning. He responded, ‘That looks nice. I haven’t had poached egg on toast for ages.’ He placed an order for the same and then turned to Grace. ‘Have you got ten minutes?’
‘Sure, briefing isn’t until eight.’
They made their way to a nearby table and as they sat down, Hunter said, ‘I just wanted to catch up with you.’
‘As long as you’re not asking for money,’ Grace grinned. ‘Do you mind if I eat while we talk?’ she added, cutting into her egg.
Hunter watched the yolk of Grace’s egg cascade onto the toast, making him feel even more hungry. He said, ‘I just wanted to be nosy and see how the case I was pulled away from is going. I haven’t seen anything on the news recently.’
‘That’s because it’s not going well. We’re more than confident that she’s dead now, I’m afraid. We found her mobile, bag, and the hoodie she was last seen wearing in a dumpster at the back of the Comfort Inn. The last contact with her was on the day she was last seen booking in there. No one’s seen her since.’
‘What about the sex offender from the CCTV?’
‘Luke Riley! He walked into Barnwell nick yesterday morning with his solicitor. Me and Mike interviewed him. He admitted he’d been with Rasa on the day of her disappearance and had paid for sex with her in a room at The Comfort Inn. He said it was a regular weekly arrangement they had, but he said he left her there at just after two and then drove to KFC at Parkgate shopping centre for some
thing to eat. He’s handed over his phone for us to verify his location, and we’ve now got an action to check out CCTV there. There’s always the possibility he could have killed her and put her in his boot and then drove there, but if he did, he was acting pretty calm, going there for food after he’d just killed her. And, to be honest, I got the feeling he was telling the truth. If he was lying, he was a bloody good actor. However, St. John-Stevens thinks otherwise. He fits the profile and he was the last person to be with her. So, he’s still number one suspect.’
‘What about the couple from Lithuania who brought her here? Didn’t her friend who reported her missing say that the bloke had assaulted her?’
‘We did a raid on the house they’ve been renting in Rotherham. We guess they saw the news and they’ve buggered off back to Lithuania. Border Control have confirmed that they flew from Manchester the day after it was on the news. We’ve got Interpol on their case.’
‘That’s it?’
‘For now. Forensics have recovered the duct-tape that had been placed over the security cameras at the motel, but we won’t know for a few weeks if there are any prints or DNA on it. And we’ve not got any other CCTV footage of Rasa leaving the motel or nearby. There are no other cameras overlooking the rear of the place, so if whoever took her did so via the cleaner’s entrance, as we believe they did, then we’ve got nothing.’
‘Seems like you’re in for the long haul, then?’
Grace nodded and put some egg and toast into her mouth. At the same time, Hunter’s breakfast arrived and he started tucking into it.
After a couple of mouthfuls he asked, ‘How’re you settling in with St. John-Stevens?’
Grace quickly finished chewing and said, ‘He’s okay. Not as switched on as Dawn, and he can be a bit up his arse, but I’ve known worse. We all still think it’s awful what he’s done to you. Anyway, why do you ask?’
Hunter swallowed his piece of toast. ‘No particular reason. I had another run-in with him yesterday. I had to disclose I was reviewing that case of his regarding the missing family back in nineteen-ninety-one.’ Hunter gave her a summary of his conversation with St. John-Stevens.
When he’d finished, she responded with, ‘Oh dear,’ pushing aside her empty plate.
‘Worse than “oh dear,” telling me I had to drop the case. There are so many gaps, Grace. If I’d have dealt with a case like that, I’d expect to be disciplined for neglect of duty.’
‘So, what are you going to do? Drop it?’
Hunter stared across the table.
Grace’s mouth formed a smirk. ‘That look tells me everything. You’re not going to, are you?’
‘I will, once I’m happy that everything has been done properly. I have someone that I want to eliminate.’
‘Oh! Anyone I know?’
‘The name Dylan Wolfe ring any bells?’
‘That’s a blast from the past. The same Dylan Wolfe who stabbed his girlfriend and raped those women back when we were in our probation?’
Hunter nodded. ‘One and the same.’ Grace had been with Hunter when they had found Dylan Wolfe’s third victim unconscious on Barnwell Craggs after she had just been attacked by him back in 1991. He had bashed her with a rock and only survived because a passer-by disturbed him.
‘You and Barry arrested him, didn’t you?’ It was a rhetorical question. She added, ‘Didn’t he get life?’
Hunter nodded. ‘I’m going to arrange to visit him in prison and interview him. I just want to satisfy myself that he wasn’t involved. There’s also one other witness at least to talk to.’
‘Well, I wish you luck. And I hope St. John-Stevens doesn’t find out.’
Hunter finished his breakfast. ‘I’ll deny all knowledge,’ he said, scraping back his chair. ‘It was good to catch up, Grace. We should do this more often.’
Maddie was in the office shortly before 8 a.m., dumping her coat and bag on her desk and then turning on her computer. ‘Good morning,’ she said brightly, picking up Hunter’s dirty mug. ‘Fancy a cup of tea?’
Hunter watched her striding towards the kettle. ‘Get your washing machine sorted out?’
She turned with a guilty look on her face. ‘Sorry about that. The hose split at the back. An engineer’s coming this morning to sort it. I’ve got my mum waiting in for him.’ She turned on the kettle and shuffled together two clean mugs. ‘You must wonder what on earth you’ve got for a partner. I bet Grace didn’t give you this much trouble?’
Hunter returned a warm smile. ‘You’ve had a tough week, Maddie. We all have those. Next week’ll be different, I’m sure.’
‘Bloody well hope so,’ she replied, crossing her fingers. ‘What did you get up to after I’d gone? Dare I ask how your meeting went with the DCI?’
‘It didn’t go well. He told me to drop the case.’
‘What, ordered you to?’ Without waiting for an answer, she added, ‘And the second question is, are you?’
‘I’ve bundled up the file and it’s in my out tray.’ Hunter decided not to tell Maddie about photocopying the file. He had only been working with her a week and didn’t know enough about her to give her his trust. He continued, ‘I’m just going to finish off my enquiry with George Evers to satisfy myself. And I also want to satisfy myself about Dylan Wolfe. We’ve got a family who disappeared in nineteen-ninety-one who lived four streets away from a victim of a serial rapist-cum-killer, and although the circumstances and MO of this crime are different to the ones Dylan Wolfe was convicted of, who’s to say he wasn’t disturbed by Tina’s husband while he was attacking her? I’m still not happy with the cleaned-up bloodstains in the kitchen. That’s bugging me.’
‘That’s fine with me,’ Maddie said, handing Hunter his hot drink. ‘As long as you don’t implicate me. I can get myself in enough trouble as it is, without any help, thank you.’ While scrolling through her emails, she lifted her eyes. ‘Speaking of the name Wolfe — have you heard about the attack on that woman last night?’
Hunter shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Apparently a man wearing a werewolf mask tried to abduct a woman coming from the railway station. Pulled up in his car and got the boot open. He was trying to drag her in there when two blokes coming from the pub disturbed him and he got away. If it hadn’t been for them, who knows what would have happened to her? Terrible, isn’t it? She must have been absolutely petrified. What’s the world coming to, eh?’
‘Has that been on the radio this morning?’
‘No, I’ve just been talking to one of my colleagues in CID. They’ve got the job.’
‘Well, I hope they catch him.’
‘Definitely.’ Maddie returned to her screen, clicking rapidly on her mouse. After a few minutes, she exclaimed, ‘Goodness me!’
Hunter looked across.
‘You will never guess what I’ve just received!’
‘I’m not a mind-reader, Maddie.’
She smirked and said, ‘Only got an email from the practice the Bannisters were registered with. They’ve sent me PDFs of their records. I’ve just opened up Tina’s, and there’s something here we didn’t know.’
‘Oh yes? Well, spit it out then, Maddie.’
‘She was pregnant. Six weeks pregnant, according to her notes. She went to see her GP just a few weeks before she disappeared to ask him for an abortion.’ Lifting her eyebrows, she continued, ‘She disclosed the baby wasn’t her husband’s.’
‘What?’
Maddie nodded. ‘That’s what’s here on her notes.’
‘When was this?’ Hunter watched Maddie’s eyes slowly moving down the screen.
After a few seconds, she looked up. ‘According to the date, it would have been two days before the police attended their home following their domestic.’
‘That’s why they rowed? David either found out or she confessed and he told his mother something different.’
Maddie nodded. ‘It would be a good bet.’
‘Crikey, Maddie. And that now makes
it more imperative that I trace George Evers to see if we can find out who the stranger was that he saw Tina talking to in the pub. And it also throws a different light on the stranger that Denise Harris saw at the front door of their house on the day they all disappeared. Have I got this all wrong about Dylan Wolfe? Could it have been the father of Tina’s unborn baby?’ Hunter rapped his fingers on the desk. ‘We can’t ignore this, Maddie, despite what St. John-Stevens says. This information is far too important.’ After a short pause, Hunter added, ‘I just can’t understand why St. John-Stevens wouldn’t have done these enquiries in the first place. To me, this is just basic stuff.’
Hunter continued to work on tracing George Evers. After having no luck with those listed as living in West Yorkshire, he moved across the border into Lancashire and on his second telephone call he found him. George was now retired, and Hunter quickly learned that following the buy-out of Barnwell Building Supplies, George had initially worked at the new company’s nearest base in Barnsley, and after spending two years there he’d managed to swing a transfer to their Preston branch, where he originally hailed from. George was still living in Preston, near the army barracks. Once Hunter told him the purpose of his call — that he was reviewing the disappearance of the Bannisters — and that he wanted to talk with him about the unknown man he saw talking to Tina, George was more than happy to oblige. Hunter arranged to drive across straight away, taking his postcode, before ending the call.
‘Result,’ he called, looking across at Maddie. ‘Found George Evers living in Preston. How do you fancy going to talk with him? It’s less than a two-hour run.’
‘Right now?’ Maddie replied, looking up from her computer.
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