Closer To Home
Heleyne Hammersley
Copyright © 2017 Heleyne Hammersley
The right of Heleyne Hammersley to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2017 by Bloodhound Books
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Contents
Also By Heleyne Hammersley
Praise for Fracture by Heleyne Hammersley:
1975
1. 2015
2. 2015
3. 1984
4. 2015
5. 2015
6. 2015
7. 2015
8. 2015
9. 1984
10. 2015
11. 2015
12. 2015
13. 2015
14. 2015
15. 2015
16. 2015
17. 2015
18. 2015
19. 2015
20. 2015
21. 1984
22. 2015
23. 2015
24. 2015
25. 2015
26. 2015
Epilogue
A Note From Bloodhound Books
Acknowledgments
Also By Heleyne Hammersley
Forgotten
Fracture
Praise for Fracture by Heleyne Hammersley:
'Before you know it the slow starter becomes a roller coaster hurtling towards the climax in a whirlwind of events.' Caroline Vincent - Bits About Books
'A really enjoyable, page-turning read.' B.A. Steadman - Author
'This book is a great suspense novel, which will make you question your own belief of events.' Alexina Golding - Bookstormer
'You could say that reading this book is like going on a rollercoaster ride in that there are lots of twists, turns and stomach churning moments.' Amanda Oughton - Ginger Book Geek
In memory of my mum, Elaine.
1975
It’s stuffy down here. Not just hot, but a damp heat like being smothered by a bed sheet fresh out of the washing machine. Except that it doesn’t smell as nice. It’s musty and earthy like old potatoes. The darkness is absolute and Tracy feels as though she’s breathing it in, coating her lungs with blackness each time she inhales. And then she turns the corner. It’s just like her friends described; five feet in complete darkness, a sharp bend and then there is, quite literally, light at the end of the tunnel.
She eases her upper body round into the next section, pushing forward with her forearms against the sandy floor, trying to get her hips through. Her lower back scrapes against the brick ceiling so she dips it further, cramp in her thighs making her cry out. There’s nobody to hear her though. Back in the quarry, which feels like it might be a hundred miles above her, she knows that her friends are long gone. She wouldn’t have attempted this with them all standing there ready to jeer and call her ‘fatty’ and ‘lardy bum’. She’ll prove them all wrong though.
She tries to back up but that makes the pain in her back and thighs even worse. If she could just ease herself further forwards she could lie flat and wriggle like a worm but there seems to be no give in her buttocks or in the bricks that line the tunnel. She’s stuck.
The humiliation makes her start to weep, silently at first, but soon the soft whimpers become drawn-out wails of fear and frustration. It’s too late for any of her friends to come back tonight. It’ll be dark soon and the light will disappear leaving her back in the darkness.
On the surface, the heat builds towards yet another summer storm, and it starts to rain.
1
2015
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Kate muttered as she pushed the pool car up to the speed limit. ‘How did they miss her yesterday? What time did they call off the search?’
‘When it got dark,’ Hollis said in a strangled voice that was a complete contrast with his customary deep tone. He had one arm braced against the dashboard and the other was wrapped around his seatbelt. ‘Must’ve been about half nine. Can we slow down just a bit, please?’
Kate eased up on the accelerator and Hollis let go of his seatbelt.
‘Look, we don’t even know if it’s her yet?’
Kate snorted at his misplaced optimism.
‘Course it’s fucking her. What other girls have been reported missing?’
‘Even if it is,’ Hollis said, ‘there’s nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just get there and see what’s what.’
Kate wanted to scream at him. How could he be so calm when a seven-year-old girl was probably floating face down in a filthy pond? Sometimes life just wasn’t fair.
It was just before half past seven when they pulled up at the rusted iron gates that marked the entrance to the quarry. When Kate had lived in Thorpe, the gates had been padlocked shut, but the fence on either side had been riddled with holes and gaps that the kids on the estate exploited at every opportunity. Kate had never been interested in playing there; she believed her dad’s horror stories of quick-sands and black sludge from the steel works that could burn off your skin with a single touch. It hadn’t deterred some of her friends though who came back with stories of fantastic finds such as a complete dog skeleton wrapped in carpet or a stack of dirty magazines under a bush.
Now the rusty metal gates hung open, sagging on their hinges. The chain that held them closed was scarred silver where it had been cut open to allow access to the ambulance that Kate could see parked on a patch of high ground. The process of filling in the huge hole in the ground had begun before she’d left but she hadn’t been expecting the final result. Instead of level, flat ground the whole area was a mass of hummocks and small grassed-over mounds, the grass brown and patchy like the remnants of hair on a balding scalp. She abandoned the car at the gates and set off on foot, Hollis trailing in her wake, and stopped at the blue-and-white tape to flash her warrant card at the PCSO on guard duty.
‘How bad is it?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘Didn’t look. I don’t think I could face her parents if I’d seen the body. I took their initial statements yesterday and they were in bits. God knows what they’ll be like today. The mother was trying to stay optimistic but the stepdad looked like he was already expecting the worst.’
‘You’re Rigby? You were at the house yesterday and had a look round,’ Kate had read his preliminary report and was surprised that the young and inexperienced PCSO of her imagination turned out to be a man of about her own age. He stood smartly to attention and she could see the bristles of a closely shaved head poking out from beneath his perfectly placed uniform cap.
‘Give me a ring,’ she said, handing him her card. ‘I’d like to have a chat about yesterday.’
‘Not much to tell. Me and Tatton responded to the call, did everything by the book,’ Rigby said. ‘Tatton’s FLO trained so she stayed with them. I ended up joining one of the search teams. I wish I’d bothered to have a look over here though. Obvious place for a lost kiddy really.’
It was, Kate thought, really obvious. So why hadn’t Search and Rescue found her yesterday? Or any of the police search teams?
‘All the same, I’d appreciate a chat,’ Kate said, heading through the gates. If this was the body of Aleah Reese, Kate wanted as much background as possible and Rigby shou
ld be able to at least give her some impression of the parents.
DCI Raymond was standing next to the forensics van, already clad in protective overalls and nitrile gloves. He was remonstrating with one of the technicians and Kate could tell from his body language that he was determined to make his point. As though sensing the presence of his junior officers he swung round and caught her with the full force of his frown. ‘About bloody time. What kept you? Christ, this is a fucking mess.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Kate asked, reaching into the back of the van for a plastic packet containing overalls and bootees. She checked the size, far too big for her, and passed it back to Hollis, before turning and looking for something smaller. Raymond looked like he was about to burst out of his overalls. He was a big man and, with his huge frame tightly encased in white and his customary flushed complexion, he looked like a retired weightlifter who had quickly gone to seed. His eyes were widely spaced, giving him an innocent, almost childlike look but the expression on his face was exactly the opposite.
‘Him. That’s what’s wrong.’
He pointed to the ambulance which had been parked about thirty yards away from the van, obviously mindful of the crime scene. The back doors of the ambulance were open and an elderly man sat on the step, a blanket round his shoulders and a Jack Russell terrier curled up at his feet. The bottoms of his trousers and his shoes were wet and he was trembling despite the warmth of the morning. He was staring at the ground, seemingly oblivious to the activity around him.
‘He didn’t?’
‘Yes, he bloody did,’ Raymond confirmed. ‘I thought everybody watched bloody Silent Witness or CSI these days. You don’t mess with the body!’
‘He might have thought that she was still alive. Have you spoken to him?’ Kate asked.
‘Don’t trust myself,’ Raymond said. ‘I might want to wring his neck if I get anywhere near him.’
She heard Hollis behind her stifle a snort of laughter at Raymond’s outburst, trying to cover it with a cough. She didn’t know the DCI very well but her colleagues had given her a clear impression that he was a man who liked the sound of his own voice and believed that the louder it was the more likely he was to get things done.
‘Let’s go and talk to the dog walker,’ she said, turning away from the DCI and making a cutthroat gesture of warning to Hollis.
Please don’t let him have handled her, Kate thought to herself as she approached the man in the back of the ambulance. If he’d just pulled her out and left her, there might be something left for the SOCOs to find but, if he’d tried to resuscitate her, the contamination would make their job extremely difficult.
‘Detective Inspector Fletcher,’ she said holding out her hand. ‘Are you the one who found the body?’
The old man looked at her hand then up at her face as though he wasn’t sure what would be an appropriate response. He leaned over to pat his dog who rolled onto her back inviting more attention.
‘Bessy found her,’ he said, ignoring Kate’s outstretched hand. ‘We don’t usually come up to the pond because she likes the water and if she gets in, I have a job getting her out. You never know what’s in it over here so I try to keep her away.’
He scratched the dog’s stomach.
‘I let her off the lead this morning, though. It was early and there wasn’t anybody else around so I thought she’d be fine and stay with me. She ran off when we got to the top here and started barking. She’s not really a yappy dog, are you Bess? So, I came up to see what was up. Then I saw her. Rang 999 and asked for an ambulance and you lot.’
‘Did you touch the body Mr…?’ Hollis asked.
‘Garrett. Jack Garrett. I’m sorry. I know I should have left her but I had to know if she was still alive. I called Bess away and, when she wouldn’t come back, I waded in a bit and grabbed her and then I caught the sleeve of the… you know…’ He waved a hand in the general direction of the pond. ‘I pulled her out as gently as I could and just left her on the edge of the water. I didn’t touch her after that.’
‘Right,’ Kate said. ‘That’s been very helpful Mr Garrett. We’ll need to take a swab to get your DNA just for elimination purposes. I know you thought you were doing the right thing.’ She tried to sound sincere, hoping that he wouldn’t hear the irritation in her voice. Too many investigations were messed up by well-meaning members of the public. Raymond was right: there were enough police shows on television nowadays; you’d think people would know.
Bess sat up and gave a cautionary woof and Kate turned to see a huge, bald man approaching the ambulance. He strode across the grass as though on a parade ground and his khaki jumper and camouflage trousers added to the effect.
‘Ken Fowler, Search and Rescue. And before you ask, I’ve been cleared to be here. The PCSO on guard let me through. I met him briefly, yesterday,’ the giant said, extending his arm further so that Kate could shake his hand. ‘I just heard that you’ve found the missing girl.’
No thanks to you lot, Kate thought. They may be volunteers, but you’d think with all that training and with us directing them… How the hell had they missed her yesterday?
‘Dog walker phoned it in,’ she said. ‘Would’ve thought that somebody from your team would have spotted her yesterday. Assuming that somebody checked the pond and didn’t just phone it in so he could get away for an early tea.’
‘It was checked.’
Something about Fowler’s size made Kate instinctively want to trust him. He looked safe and reliable in his work boots and practical trousers. She put his age at about sixty.
‘You can vouch for your team? Somebody definitely looked at this pond?’
Fowler nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on Kate; a challenge. He had the slightly squashed looking features of somebody who had done some boxing in his youth and his upright posture and straightforward manner suggested ex-forces.
‘Who did the search? Specifically, who looked in this pond and didn’t see a dead girl?’
He frowned. ‘I did. She wasn’t here last night.’
‘Right,’ Kate nodded. ‘And you’re absolutely sure? You checked before the search was called off for the day?’
‘I checked over here yesterday afternoon and last night sometime between nine and ten. She wasn’t there.’
Kate considered apologising for her belligerent manner but Fowler didn’t look offended; he looked like he’d been expecting her to challenge him. Either he was a convincing liar or the girl had been dumped in the pond overnight, sometime between the end of the search and Garrett’s unpleasant discovery.
‘You came here twice?’
Fowler shrugged. ‘It seemed an obvious place to look. I went around the whole area twice in case she hadn’t been here the first time but had decided to hide out later on. I didn’t miss her. She wasn’t here.’
‘The team’s ready,’ Hollis said from behind her. He’d wriggled into his overalls and was snapping latex gloves on. ‘You might want to get kitted up.’
She opened her plastic package and turned towards the pond, feeling Fowler’s eyes on her back as she grappled with overalls and gloves. Strange man, she thought. Very intense. She pulled on the protective suit and forced her sweating hands into gloves before covering her hair with the hood and heading back to the pond. The area had been cordoned off with blue-and-white tape, and stepping plates had been laid in place to form a path to the edge of the pond where the body lay. Kate approached, glancing at the water. What she saw didn’t compute in her brain for a few seconds; it wasn’t as deep as she’d been imagining. She could clearly see the muddy bottom barely three inches below the surface and there was little vegetation surrounding the edges, as though the soil was too contaminated to allow anything to take root. The water was flat-calm, mirror-like, but it bore no reflection of the horror of the girl’s death. Instead it showed a moving image of lazily drifting clouds.
This wasn’t an accidental drowning, Kate was sure. The girl had either been held under the water unti
l she drowned or the body was dumped here after her death. She turned her attention to the body to confirm her impressions; this was clearly a crime scene. Kate had no doubt that this was Aleah Reese. She was lying on her front, facing away from Kate; her hair was darkened by the water but it was obviously blonde and the jeans and hoodie matched those described by Jackie Reese in the statement that Kate had read the day before.
This was the part Kate hated. The watching and waiting. She had to let the SOCOs do their job but it always took forever and she could have no part in the examination of the girl’s body. Their first job was to study the body in situ. Kate watched as photographs and measurements were taken including the depth of the pond at the point where the body had lain in the mud. Raymond watched each part of the operation with hawk-like focus – he wouldn’t allow anybody to miss anything – until it was time for the recovery. One of the SOCOs knelt on the ground near the dead girl, put out a gloved hand and gently turned her over onto her back.
‘Oh shit,’ Hollis said from behind her, as the face from the photo that Jackie Reese had sent them yesterday came into view. ‘It is her, then.’
Kate closed her eyes, imagining having to break the news to Jackie and Craig Reese.
‘Shit,’ Hollis said again. ‘What the hell…?’
The girl’s hands were tied in front of her with bright yellow cord.
Closer To Home Page 1
