The Missing Girls

by Carol Wyer

  Robyn resisted the urge to wind Flint up any further. ‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’

  She ended the call and flicked back to Anna. ‘I’m on my way. Fill me in while I drive.’ Robyn started up the Golf and, ignoring the dull ache in her hip, drove out of the gym car park, her mind beginning to whir and her heart thumping with the anticipation of what was to come.

  Four

  The overnight frost had left artistic swirled patterns on the car windscreen. They looked so pretty that Ross was reluctant to remove them. He had a job to do, however, and couldn’t stand around waiting for the sun to melt the white glaze. He pulled out a credit card and ran it down the screen. Tiny white flakes spun off in all directions, and over his black shoes. He stamped them on the pavement before climbing into the vehicle, scarf still wound around his neck. He started the engine and turned the heating up full blast. The display revealed it was minus three outside. At least it promised to be a bright day.

  It was just as well it was sunny because he wasn’t in the best of moods. He’d just taken a call from a woman, Susanne Carlisle, who could hardly talk for tears, and Ross hated it when women cried like that. Some lowlife had stolen her puppy and, although she had alerted the police, she wanted Ross to hunt for it.

  ‘She’s a Staffordshire bull terrier and she has such a sweet nature. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. I hope whoever’s got her is looking after her properly. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her.’

  She had dissolved into more tears. Ross had made encouraging noises and told her he’d set to work immediately. He’d found lost animals before. He hoped this one hadn’t been stolen to order and taken to another part of the UK.

  The sun dazzled him as he joined the dual carriageway, making him screw up his eyes. He fumbled about in the glove box for some sunglasses, then remembered he’d taken them home to clean them and left them there. He swore and dropped the sun visor. It was going to be one of those days.

  He wasn’t sure he was at the right place, even though his satnav had directed him here. Gallow Street, hidden within a labyrinth of roads on the edge of Derby, was one of the dingiest, most depressing streets he had ever visited. The brick wall on the left as he entered the street was covered in obscene graffiti, as was the one remaining glass pane of the bus shelter, further down the street. He drove slowly, hunting for number forty. The houses were a hotchpotch of 1950s architecture and various modern extensions. Some had porches, cluttered with bikes and paraphernalia; others had paved, oil-spattered driveways rather than gardens. The house numbers descended. The one he wanted was much further along the road.

  Two young men, hands deep in low-slung jeans pockets, scowled in unison as he drove past them. Brown rubbish bins, haphazardly strewn, dominated both sides of the street. Semi-detached houses gave way to matching terraced properties with brown-painted doors and no frontages; grimy glass that hadn’t been washed in many months; broken appliances and abandoned cars, rusting outside on the street. Ross wondered if he shouldn’t park his car elsewhere and walk. He finally spotted number forty, and, after driving to the far end of the road, he parked next to a convenience store and returned to the house on foot.

  He pressed the doorbell. The muffled tune of a song he didn’t recognise rang deep inside. He shuffled uncomfortably. A shifting behind the door and the sound of bolts being dragged back. The door opened and a stone-faced girl in her late teens surveyed him from behind a safety chain, hand on the door, ready to shut it at a moment’s notice.

  ‘What d’ya want? Me mum’s not interested in no double-glazin’ nor nuffin’ if you’re selling.’

  ‘Hi, I’m here about your dog. I’m Ross Cunningham from R&J Associates. Your mum rang me.’

  The girl pulled away and shouted, ‘Mum, did you call that bloke about Princess?’

  There was a howl from a small child and the response, ‘Yeah. Is it him? Let him in.’

  ‘Hang on.’ She shut the door with a bang. The chain was rattled several times, then the door reopened and the girl waved him in. Ross followed her through a hallway, cluttered with two children’s bicycles and several coats thrown in heaps on the floor, to the kitchen. A woman with bleached blonde hair and a frazzled expression was trying to feed cereal to a toddler. The small child shook his head angrily. ‘No!’ he yelled. ‘No, no, no.’

  ‘Brandon, stop it.’ The girl moved in front of the child and scooped him up in her thin arms, holding him tightly until he calmed. ‘Come on. I’ll take you to the shop. We’ll get some chocolate. Let’s get your coat. Mum, I’m gonna see Veronica while I’m out. I’ll be back for me dinner.’ She acknowledged Ross with a quick nod and carried the boy off to the hallway. Ross held out his hand. ‘Ross Cunningham.’

  ‘Oh, Mr Cunningham. Thank you for coming round. I’m worried sick about Princess and I didn’t know what else to do or who to call.’ Her face was a crumpled mess, eyelids heavy and red-veined from crying. ‘I know she’s only a dog, but she means so much to me.’

  Susanne Carlisle was in her late forties but with the shadows under her eyes, sallow complexion and sunken cheekbones, could pass for a woman in her late fifties.

  ‘The coppers came but I don’t hold out any hope. The PC scribbled summit in his book then dashed off. He said he’d ask about but he probably had better things to do,’ she sniffed.

  ‘What happened, exactly?’

  ‘I let Princess out back to do her business. I was on the phone to the health clinic cos I need some more meds, and when I called her in, she’d gone. I called and called her but there was no sign of her. I went round to the old misery next door and asked if she’d seen anything, but of course she hadn’t. Funny that. She always notices what goes on.’

  ‘How old is Princess?’

  ‘She’s only a baby. I got her three months ago from a breeder. She’s beautiful.’ Susanne pulled out her mobile and passed it to Ross. The screensaver was of a Staffordshire bull terrier looking up at the camera, a soft toy in its mouth. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous? She’s got the nicest nature too. She’s even nicer than Dolly.’ She looked through the pictures, a sad smile on her face. ‘Dolly saw me through some really rough patches. I suffer from depression and she was my lifesaver. That’s why I got Princess.’ She stood up abruptly and walked across to the kitchen worktop where she pulled out a tissue from a box and blew her nose. ‘Want a coffee or anything?’

  ‘Coffee would be great. No sugar. My missus has me on a permanent diet. Thinks I’m going to get diabetes if I have so much as a teaspoon.’

  She filled the kettle and reached for two pink mugs. ‘Princess helps me stay on top of it, or I’d give up and top meself. I had to have Dolly put to sleep six months ago. Worst thing ever.’ Her hand hovered over a ceramic jar marked ‘Teabags’. ‘I bloody hated it, saying goodbye to her. It’s like losing your best friend.’ She drew out two bags and dropped them into the mugs. ‘Oh, bloody hell! You said coffee, didn’t you?’ She took out the bag and spooned in some coffee.

  Ross threw her a smile. She returned it, weakly. ‘I know Staffies get bad press, but honestly they’re playful, good with children and have got super temperaments. I wouldn’t have any other breed. Princess is perfect. She’s a loyal companion. I can’t face being without her, Mr Cunningham.’

  ‘Call me Ross.’

  She nodded vaguely, as if only half-registering his voice. ‘You will find her, won’t you?’

  ‘I’ll certainly do my best.’

  ‘You’ve found missing pets before. I saw on your website. My Lauren found it for me. She’s been out asking all the neighbours but no one’s seen anything. Mind you, they don’t think much of us so would probably say they’d seen nuffin’ even if Princess was in their front room. We’ve had a few run-ins over the years. My old man, Trevor, was one for speaking his mind. He offended just about everyone on this street. He had a gob on him and a temper.’

  ‘He no longer with you?’

  ‘Nah, did a runner six months ago. Piss
ed off with some tart he met. Can’t say I was that upset. He wasn’t the easiest bloke to live with. I don’t know how I stuck it so long. Left me hometown to come to this rathole. I’d go back in a heartbeat, but I can’t afford it.’

  ‘So, you’re not from Derby?’

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘You havin’ a laugh? Can’t you tell by me accent? Course I’m not from round here. I’m from London. Lived here the last four years. Came here in 2013, when Lauren was fourteen. I don’t know how I’ll manage without her, Mr Cunningham. She helps me cope.’

  ‘Ross,’ he insisted. ‘I’ll start with the neighbours.’

  ‘Lauren asked everyone in the street, but I can’t believe they didn’t see anything. They’re a right nosy bunch here.’

  ‘They might open up to me. It’s got to be where we start. Let’s see how I get on with them and then we’ll try and narrow down what’s happened to Princess.’

  She regarded him with light-grey eyes that seemed to have all the colour sucked out of them. Susanne needed his help. She was a woman on the edge and Ross hoped he could help save her.

  Five

  Robyn limped into her office and dropped onto her seat with a faint groan. The hip injury was giving her grief. She would have to ice it again.

  Shearer appeared from nowhere, his chin unshaven. ‘You look rough.’

  ‘Looked in the mirror?’

  ‘Somebody got out of the wrong side of bed this morning,’ he quipped. ‘I always look this rough. It comes with the job. So, you heard about our find.’

  ‘DCI Flint has been filling me in. No drugs?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m about to question the bloke we brought in again. He claims he knows nothing about any gang and was just out for a jog when the car stopped next to him. He says he went to see what the driver wanted and was yanked inside, then chucked out after they lost the squad car. I don’t believe him. He got in that Audi pretty smartish. I’m going to try and convince him to chat to me.’ He gave a tight smile that didn’t reach his cornflower-blue eyes. ‘Get all pally with him and make him understand it isn’t worth keeping schtum for a bunch of scumbag drug dealers.’ He cracked his knuckles and stretched his fingers.

  ‘Arthritis? Must be your age,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, we are being scathing today. Thought you’d be pleased to be getting your teeth into a juicy case.’

  Robyn sighed. ‘Yeah, sorry. I’m being snarky. Hope you get a result.’ She knew she shouldn’t be taking her frustrations out on Shearer, as irritating as he was. It wasn’t his fault her hip hurt, or that she felt needled every time she spoke to DCI Richard Flint. She ought to get a grip.

  ‘Right, I’m off to crack a hard nut. Good luck with the body.’

  Shearer disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, leaving behind a not unpleasant smell of aftershave. He passed Anna Shamash outside the door and mumbled something at her. She answered, then slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. Her eyes were two deep hollows and her full lips were set in a grim line. ‘Afternoon, boss.’

  Robyn raised her head and took in Anna’s appearance. ‘I guess a night in the babe magnet with Shearer was as bad as I imagined it would be.’

  ‘Worse. He’s not exactly Mr Charismatic at the best of times, and his car seats have to be the most uncomfortable I’ve ever sat in. I still can’t straighten up properly.

  ‘Interesting Monday morning though?’

  ‘It wasn’t what any of us expected.’

  ‘I’ve got to speak to the pathologist. Fancy a ride? You can fill me in on it all.’

  ‘I’m supposed to write up a report for DCI Flint, then I’m off duty.’

  Robyn gathered up her car keys, shrugged on her coat and stood by the door, hand poised to open it. ‘I’m sure he’ll understand if you slip off early. You can brief me on this before you go home. Have you had any lunch?’

  Anna shook her head. ‘Been no time for any. We had to wait for forensics and examine the area. Mitz bought burgers and a Happy Meal for Shearer. I didn’t fancy anything.’

  A smile tugged at the corners of Robyn’s mouth. ‘A Happy Meal?’

  Anna chuckled. ‘Yeah, he ate it too and attached the Super Mario toy that came with it to his car dashboard. I suppose he’s not all bad.’

  ‘Come on. Let’s go grab a coffee and sandwich next door.’

  * * *

  The coffee house along from the station was quiet, with only a few customers and Craig the barista cleaning the spouts on the coffee machine. He acknowledged them with a wave of his cloth. Robyn placed an order for them, leaving Craig to carry it over.

  ‘Forensics reckon she’d been there a few months. She was wrapped in a plastic bag and bundled up under sheets.’ Anna wrinkled up her nose. ‘She was mostly dried out but her body was covered with a grey wax.’

  ‘It’s called corpse wax,’ replied Robyn. ‘Technically it’s known as adipocere. It’s made up of saturated fatty acids.’

  Craig arrived with the coffees and sandwiches. Anna ripped the top off a sugar packet, tipped the contents into the cup and stirred. Froth and chocolate topping swirled together.

  ‘Yes, Harry McKenzie told me the same. I’d not come across it before. It was all a bit gruesome really and quite a shock. There we were, expecting a stash of heroin, and suddenly we had a pair of sightless eyes staring up at us.’ She unwrapped her submarine roll, bit into it and chewed slowly. Anna swallowed. ‘Harry McKenzie was thorough.’

  Robyn sipped her coffee, simultaneously nodding in approval. ‘One of the finest pathologists we’ve had. He’s expecting me in an hour. You want to join us and learn a little more about forensics and how the girl died?’

  ‘It beats writing reports.’ Anna cricked her neck from side to side. ‘How do you do it?’ she asked.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Keep going? I’ve been out all night and I’m done in, ready to crawl into bed, yet you and Shearer, you always manage to pull twenty-hour shifts and keep going like you’re powered by Duracell batteries or something.’

  ‘Coffee and adrenalin. That’s what works for me. I can’t vouch for Shearer.’

  ‘Sweets, I suppose. He chomped his way through three bags of them while we were out.’

  ‘There you go.’

  ‘I’ll have to change my diet.’ She finished the sandwich with one last bite, then licked her fingers. ‘I needed that. Thanks, boss.’

  Robyn pulled a piece of her own cheese sandwich off and popped it into her mouth. The cheese was flavourless; soft, rubbery goo. She forced it down and sipped her coffee again. She didn’t fancy the food but it was always best to have something before going to the pathologist’s. Some officers preferred an empty stomach but Robyn had found quite the opposite worked for her. She had seen many cadavers, and although death didn’t frighten her, she would never become oblivious to it. These bodies, life now sucked from them, had been living souls at one point. She drained her cup of the remnants of chocolate-covered froth.

  Anna tipped back her own cup and, smacking her lips, pointed at Robyn’s sandwich. ‘You not hungry?’

  ‘It’s a bit tasteless. I should have chosen the chicken like you.’

  ‘If the offer’s still open, I’d like to come and see Harry McKenzie with you. I don’t feel so tired now and I’d like to know more about the victim.’

  ‘Spoken like a true police officer.’ Robyn stood up, waves of pain through her pelvis making her wince.

  * * *

  Harry McKenzie moved nimbly around the table. On it lay the girl from the trunk. Her hands were slightly clenched, flakes of bright-pink varnish still visible on her nails. The skin was badly decomposed and had peeled in many places, exposing bone on her forehead and high cheekbones. Her full lips, shrunken slightly in death, were parted to reveal even white teeth, and above her high forehead, dark, short hair that had once shone with health and even now retained its corkscrew curls. Robyn sighed gently. The girl had been beautiful.

&nb
sp; Harry was in his element, explaining everything to Anna who soaked up every detail, her pupils dilated, mouth slightly open. Robyn listened to the pair of them, Harry with his round, owl-like glasses perched on his head, explaining with wild gestures how he had ascertained that the body was that of a teenage girl.

  ‘The main indicator is the pelvis,’ he began, long fingers pointing at the hips of the girl on the table. ‘A female’s pelvis is a different shape to a male’s. And an examination of the symphysis pubis, the joint where the bones meet,’ he said, noting Anna’s frown, ‘along with other bones in her body, helped estimate her age.’

  Anna nibbled at her bottom lip, keen to understand more.

  ‘How can you tell someone’s age from bones? I don’t understand.’

  Harry pointed towards the clavicle visible through parchment-dry skin. Robyn stared at the girl, skin peeled from her face like wisps of tissue paper, perfect teeth grinning as if waiting for a camera shutter to fall. Harry continued, ‘Bones grow throughout a child’s development. They start growing in the womb but don’t fully form until adulthood. The development of this girl’s bones is not yet complete. I would put her at about sixteen years old.’

  Robyn dragged her attention away from the yellowed corpse. ‘Has she been dead long?’

  Harry’s head wobbled from side to side. ‘Her body has been protected from insect activity and scavengers, so that along with the adipocere has helped with its preservation.’

  ‘I thought this substance didn’t occur unless a body was in water.’ Anna’s eyes were huge in the dim lighting of the morgue. Harry shook his head.

  ‘Normally, but the plastic bag she was found in must have provided a moist enough environment. There’s also evidence that her body had been kept in cold storage – frozen. When it defrosted droplets of water would have formed around it.’

  Robyn circled the table. Although the remains were in a better state than if they had been buried, the girl’s face was still unrecognisable. Her mind churned the information. The body had been frozen before it was moved to the trunk. Robyn wondered if it had no longer been safe to keep her hidden in cold storage. Such freezers could be found in restaurants or places where meat was kept frozen. Had the girl worked in such an establishment?