by Jay Nadal
“Because we’re reviewing the case again and looking for anything that might help us find out what happened to her. So perhaps you heard something…or saw something…that day she disappeared. I understand you were close friends. Shared the same social circle?”
Lexi dropped her head and rolled the corner of a tissue around her finger. “She was my bestie. Yeah, it hurt when she disappeared. She was sad with life, hated being at home sometimes. We often spoke of heading to Greece to work in a bar and just chill…if you know what I mean. But it never happened. One minute she was here, next she was gone.”
“Would she have gone without you?”
“No way.”
30
Mike had put in a call to Scott not long after his interview with Richards. The recent discoveries they both had to share made for an interesting conversation. Upon hearing Scott’s news, Mike offered nothing more than a derogatory comment about Hobday having his cake and eating it too. Mike dropped another bombshell regarding Hobday which interested Scott further.
The news that Scott heard about Richards did nothing more than confirm his suspicions about Richards, and how his violent tendencies had made him the key suspect.
Hobday didn’t appreciate the phone call to his home. Scott informed him they needed to speak to him as a matter of urgency. Hobday insisted that it could wait for Monday morning as he didn’t appreciate the intrusion on his home life. When Scott told him the reason for the call, Hobday agreed to meet them at the station.
Scott and Abby made their way to the interview room to find him pacing the room looking less than relaxed. He was unshaven, deep worry lines creasing his forehead, wearing a crumpled T-shirt and faded jeans. He looked anything but the professional compared to last time they met.
Scott thanked Hobday for sparing the time and did formal introductions for the benefit of the tape and provided the necessary caution. Hobday refused the offer of having a solicitor present, citing it as an overreaction, as he had nothing to hide.
“We wanted to talk to about Linda Allen. From our enquiries, we understand you knew her more than you suggested during our last discussion?”
Hobday remained silent, lost for words.
“Mr Hobday. Let me ask you again. Where were you on Sunday evening between six p.m. and midnight?”
“As I said before, I was at home with my wife.”
“All evening?”
“Yes.”
“And you are a hundred percent certain you didn’t go out at all that evening in your car?”
“Yessss,” he replied impatiently.
“You see, Mr Hobday, I’ve just been informed by one of my officers, that following an extensive search of CCTV footage, your car was picked up on an ANPR camera that night less than a mile from where Linda’s body was found.”
Hobday’s face drained. His features sagged. “It must be a mistake.”
“Are you suggesting that someone else was driving your car?”
“No. I didn’t go out.”
Scott slid the still image across the desk in Hobday’s direction. It was an image of him behind the wheel captured by a camera.
He swallowed what little saliva he had as he glanced at the two officers. Scott let the power of silence fester in the room.
“You can see our predicament now, can’t you, Mr Hobday? You were near where Linda’s body was found. And yet, when we first asked you, you were anything but truthful, citing that you had been at home all evening with your wife. My question is what would make you lie?”
Inconsequential mutterings slipped from his lips incoherently.
“So, Mr Hobday, rather than dig yourself into an even bigger hole, why don’t we start from the beginning. Where were you on Sunday night between six p.m. and midnight?”
Hobday locked his fingers in a spiral and rested his elbows on the table as he rested his head on his hands. “I’d gone to see Linda. But when I got around to her house, her car wasn’t there. After that, I went back home.”
“You know her better than you claimed to have when we first spoke?”
Hobday chewed his lips and shifted nervously on the spot. The man nodded, as his eyes moved around the room, before his shoulders dropped in resignation. “I did. We initially made contact through a dating website. We exchanged messages like you do, and then…”
“Go on, Mr Hobday.”
“We saw each other, just casual encounters to start with. A hotel room here and there. Then she wanted to make it racier. We would drive out of town into the woods and have sex outdoors. She was voracious. She always wanted sex, and the more daring it was, the more it turned her on.”
“And she was married at the time?” Scott knew the answer already.
He nodded. “I was adamant to keep this as discreet as possible. Especially because I’m…”
“Married?”
Hobday’s face flushed tomato red.
“Was it a sex game that went wrong? She wanted it rough. We know that she was into erotic asphyxiation. Did it go too far?”
“No. No. You have it all wrong. I didn’t kill her.”
“How did we have it all wrong, Mr Hobday? Would you care to elaborate?”
“We got on well. She was so easy to get on with. Don’t get me wrong. I love my wife. We have a great relationship. And a half-decent sexual relationship. But it faded away after we lost our child. Something inside her changed. She had longed for a baby. But she went off the idea of sex. It was my wife’s idea.”
Scott and Abby shot each other a perplexed look.
“What was her idea?” Abby asked.
“Me having sex outside my marriage. My wife knew she couldn’t give me what I wanted, she felt guilty. She said if I loved her, and would never leave her, she would turn a blind eye if I had sex elsewhere. There was only one condition attached.”
“And that was?”
“That I came home to her every evening, and I would love no other. Then Linda fell pregnant. It wasn’t planned. We took precautions. But on one occasion, it wasn’t enough.”
“Leo?”
Hobday nodded. “I said I would pay if she had a termination. With a child of her own, I thought she would have agreed. But as the pregnancy continued, something changed. She wanted to keep the baby.”
“And you didn’t?”
Hobday shook his head. “No. It’s the last thing I wanted. Well, yes and no. We argued a few times over it. But she wouldn’t budge.”
“Were you angry?”
“A bit. But not in the way you are thinking. I was shocked more than anything else. I suggested that we would adopt her baby, especially after what my wife had been through. We could give the baby a better life than Linda could. Though, I’m not sure my wife would have agreed. I said it in the heat of the moment. Linda pleaded with me for her to keep the baby. She said she wanted nothing from me. But I felt responsible and agreed to help financially.”
“We checked her bank records, and there are no substantial deposits in her bank account.”
“There wouldn’t be. She wanted cash instead. She said her day-to-day expenses, the cot, nappies, and suchlike were what she needed help with. I would drop off an envelope each month which had a few hundred pounds in it.”
“If you are Leo’s closest living relative, then you would have legal rights over the child?”
“Yes.”
“Did you kill Linda in order to get the baby?”
“No,” he pleaded.
Scott read the first of the DNA results he was expecting. He leant back in his chair and cursed under his breath. The semen sample taken from Linda Allen was a negative match for Anil Shah. He was out of the frame. It flooded Scott with a mixture of emotions. Anger that the results had come back negative, but relief, crossing at least one suspect off his list.
31
He’d been looking forward to this all day. She had agreed to meet him. With the last one out of the way, he could focus on Katrina. This one sounded up for it. Their mes
sages had become dirtier as the days had passed. The photographs had become racier. She looked like a better proposition than Emma, whose body lay in the bottom of the darkened pit offering a handsome food source for the hungry critters that called that shithole their home.
He agreed to meet her in a pub, in much the same way he had done with the others. There were several pubs he preferred, chosen for their locations. Away from busy main roads, CCTV footage, and road traffic. All things that could trip him up.
He sat outside, waiting and watching punters come and go from the pub. There weren’t as many on a Sunday night. He had seen her saunter up the street, dressed in ever so tight jeans that disappeared between her legs. He imagined her hot sweaty crotch. She wore black patent high-heels, something he had insisted upon. A black leather jacket was wrapped tightly around her, shielding her from the cold air.
Fifteen minutes. He liked to keep them waiting. His phone had bleeped three times already, asking where he was. A lame excuse of taking the wrong turning bought him some time.
He had walked in, hood up, and muttered a few words to her about how he had somewhere better to go, which she would love. She had followed him out seconds later. He had been in the pub for no more than sixty seconds. Not enough time for anyone to recall his face or recognise his clothing.
She appeared excited at first as he told her about a remote pub which hosted a local band on a Sunday night. A pub, where he knew a bartender that would ensure free drinks all night. That promise alone had sealed the deal for her.
They hadn’t gone to the pub, stopping instead in a lay-by to kiss, exploring each other’s mouths. She had thrust her hand down his jeans searching out his cock as he groped her breasts.
Wanting to take it further, he had suggested that they disappear into the woods for no more than a few moments. At first, she was reluctant to venture out in the darkness, preferring the warmth of the car. She relented after his persistence.
Only a few yards into the darkened forest, he’d spun on his heels and punched her in the face. The blow sent her sprawling backwards to the sodden earth. With her mind dazed, and her face erupting in pain, he had set upon her. One furious blow after another rained down on her. With her arms pinned down to her sides by his knees, he sat astride her. He could feel the moistness on his knuckles from the blood that trickled from her nose and her burst top lip.
She made little sound. Too dazed and semi-conscious, her body writhed on the ground, desperate to slip free. Her legs kicked wildly, catching fallen branches and decaying leaf matter. Her precious black patent heels soon became smothered in dirty, wet mud.
Katrina put up a valiant fight. It was a play fight as far as it concerned him in his twisted mind. She said she liked it rough. All the women liked it rough. She had told him so. Her fantasy was being kidnapped and held down whilst she was at the mercy of the men who raped and abused her body. This is what she wanted, and I’m just the man to give it to her.
With one hand, and most of his body weight leaning on her throat, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a clear plastic bag. The harder he sat down on her chest, the more it pushed the air from her lungs. With her small, thin, petite frame, she continued to struggle.
He pulled the bag over her head with his free hand. Her head tossed from side to side, desperate to escape the cocoon. He removed the hand from her throat and reached inside his jacket to pull out the duct tape. Wrapping it around her neck several times, it entombed her face inside a plastic trap that rose and fell with each breath she took. He grabbed her arms, taping her hands and wrists together in much the same way a person would put their hands together when they were praying. But prayers would not help her today.
Desperate to experience her, he grabbed at her jeans, and pulled them down. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, again at his insistence. Whilst her hands clawed at the plastic, he thrust his hardened member into her.
His body twitched, his heartbeat quickened. His breath came in shallow gasps as he drove into her, each thrust accompanied by a grunt. His body shuddered as he climaxed. He collapsed on top of her exhausted, the weight of his body crushing gasps of air from her.
As the seconds passed, her head thrashed less and less, the bag inflated less and less, before it came to a stop. The fight gone from her as her life slipped away.
He had chosen the spot as it was only a short distance to carry her body over his shoulder to the inspection chamber. Having no need for her, he pulled back the grate, and rolled her crumpled body over the edge and into the hole. A few seconds later there was a dull thud as her body hit the shaft floor.
He shone his torch into the darkened space.
Dinner for the inhabitants.
32
Scott spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep, his mind whirring like a complex timepiece. One thought locked into another, and then another, with no real destination.
Despite finding clarity over baby Leo’s background, and uncovering the identity of the married man involved in an affair with Linda, there were still far too many uncertainties. As he stared up at the darkened ceiling, his thoughts turned towards Linda and the web of complexity she had weaved into her life. Single parents up and down the country had a tough time of it on the best of days. Childcare, tight budgets, stressful jobs, plus the emotional and mental well-being of their own children, left little time for themselves. Every day was a challenge for them. Any social life was a luxury.
To weave in a complex love life comprised of sexual relations with more than one man confounded Scott further. Linda was a complex character. Hard-working, determined, fun, and yet she was clever, forceful, passionate, perhaps even desperate. Her ads were nothing more than explicit pleas. Attempts to spice up her life, satisfy her sexual desires, and feel wanted. The men she was in contact with did want her. But one person had taken it too far.
Despite the best efforts of the high-tech team, much of the history from her phone had been deleted. It was anyone’s guess as to how much evidence had been lost. Scott knew they would never know the extent of the network she had been in contact with. A lucky break for the sadistic killer, a missed opportunity for the investigating team.
Cara had sensed the turmoil in Scott’s mind as he drove her to the mortuary in silence. She tried to keep the conversation going. Scott offered nothing more than one-word answers, a “yes” here, “no” there, and “perhaps” were as much as she could squeeze from him. Regardless, his terse replies didn’t upset or annoy her. She understood and sympathised with the difficulties he faced. He would often come home, unable to switch off. She could see his mind drift as they watched TV.
She’d tried her hardest to give him respite from his job. However, all the love, hugs, kisses and sex were nothing more than a distraction, before he returned to crunching through his thoughts.
Scott stared at the half-eaten bacon sandwich on his desk, for some reason his appetite evading him. He had placed two calls to the forensics lab chasing DNA results, and they were chasing on his behalf. His in-box occupied his mind as he waited in desperation for an email to popup.
Helen poked her head round the door, and Scott waved her in.
“I went to see Jackie Cartwright again, Guv, and we went over her statement. We freewheeled about Linda’s life, but I drew a blank.” Helen shook her head.
“Nothing new?”
“She had nothing new to add. Linda was a complex character, with a complex love life. The only thing she did say was that a part of Linda wanted to be in love and have a normal happy family life, but then there was another part of her, almost her alter ego, that craved kinky sex.”
It was the same conclusion he had arrived at during the night.
“Do you want me to tackle Linda’s mum again? I could…”
Scott flipped his hand up to stop Helen as his eyes travelled to his in-box. The email he expected flashed up.
He couldn’t click the mouse quick enough to open the body of the email
as his eyes scanned through the feedback. There was a negative match between Dalca’s DNA and the samples recovered from Linda’s body.
He read on. “Fuck, fuck!” he shouted as he stood abruptly, his chair flying back and hitting the wall.
Helen’s eyes widened in consternation, searching Scott for an answer as he beckoned her through to the main floor.
“Richards!” he shouted. “He’s our man.”
The news startled the team. Mike, Abby and Raj spun in their chairs and stopped what they were doing.
“Forensics has just come back. Dalca is negative. Richards is positive. His DNA profile matches the semen sample profile retrieved from Linda’s body. And…he’s a match for Daisy Callaghan.”
The news had the team exchanging glances as the pieces fell in place.
“Wait…wait,” Abby said, as she pressed her fingers into her temples and closed her eyes. Her mind raced at warp speed through the memories of the past few weeks. Something prickled her awareness. Was it something she had heard? Was it something she had seen?
All eyes were locked on Abby.
Silence followed.
“What?”
Abby shook her head and waved her arms in frustration. “I don’t know. Something I’ve seen, but I can’t place it.”
“Guv, Richards made it very clear he didn’t think much of Linda. That being the case, why would Linda get in the car with him? She knows he’s dangerous, and the last person she would want to be with.”
Scott paced the floor as he joined the dots together. “That’s true, Raj. Richards could have set up a fake profile to lure Linda into believing that the profile was genuine. When we went to Richards’s house, I noticed several mobile phones in the lounge. My guess is he used one to communicate with Linda and Daisy. That’s why Richards’s number never appeared in the call log we pulled off her phone.”
“So, when Richards turned up at the pub, and the penny dropped, she left the same time as him?”
