Snow Kills

by RC Bridgestock

  ‘We know that’s how far Kayleigh managed to drive before parking her car – it’s still there.’

  ‘Now you are worrying me. This is serious isn’t it?’ Marlene said, softly.

  ‘Who was her last customer?’ said Andy.

  Marlene studied for a moment or two, picked up the appointment book once more, scissors and comb still in her hands and turned the pages. ‘Er... Mavis Beanland,’ she said. ‘And the lad I was talking about, his name is Longbottom, Donny Longbottom.’

  ‘Great. We’ll need to speak to Mavis. Have you got her details?’

  ‘Her number’ll be in the box,’ she said looking suddenly pale. ‘But she was going away...’

  ‘Try not to worry, not yet anyway. But if the Teddy Boy turns up, could you give us a call and we’ll come round and check him out,’ Andy said getting to his feet and placing his calling card down on the dressing table where she was working. Marlene proceeded to brush the small hairs from Ned’s neck with a soft brush and untied his gown.

  ‘Bloody hell mate!’ Andy said, with a whistle as she turned his colleague round to face him. ‘Ned, me old son, I’ve never seen you looking so darn... smart.’

  Ned smiled smugly back at his image in the mirror.

  ‘We do our best. Miracles take a little longer,’ Marlene said to Andy, without looking up from the index cards she was fanning through at the counter. She handed them to Andy. Ned took a small bottle of aftershave from his pocket, sprayed in on his hands and slapped his face.

  ‘That’s six-fifty,’ Marlene said, holding out her hand. Ned looked at her. ‘Six-fifty? I don’t want to buy the bleeding shop. Anyway you should be paying me, you could sell that lot to stuff a cushion,’ he said pointing to the hair that covered the floor around the chair.

  ‘Unreal,’ whispered Andy as his colleague turned his pockets out to show they were empty. ‘The last time he had a haircut it probably cost him one and six.’

  Andy reached inside his jacket for his wallet and took out a ten pound note. He handed it to Marlene.

  ‘Forget it,’ she said with a smile. ‘Just make sure you find Kayleigh safe and well for me, eh?’

  ‘Well, now that’s mighty generous of you love,’ said Ned.

  Andy looked to the ceiling. ‘We will do our best. You really shouldn’t though, but I suppose it saves us getting attacked from the moths in his wallet,’ he said, clearly annoyed at his colleague. ‘Would it be okay if we did a visual search of the premises?’ he asked.

  Marlene nodded. ‘Yeah, of course, if you think it’ll help.’

  ‘We just need to be sure, for ourselves that she isn’t here.’

  ‘I haven’t noticed anything has been disturbed, but she does have her own set of keys, just in case I ever need her to open up for me – you know, that odd late night on the tiles we spoke about,’ she said, her eyes downcast.

  ‘You and your better half?’ Andy said, nodding towards the ring on her finger.

  ‘II haven’t got a ‘better half’, as you put it,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, you haven’t?’ said Ned. ‘So which tiles do you tread when you go out then?’

  ‘None in particular,’ she said. The corners of her mouth curled up in a smile.

  ‘Well you’ve got my number if you fancy a night out?’ he said, laying his calling card on the reception desk.

  ‘Yeah, sure, that’d be er... nice,’ she said, lifting her eyebrows as she smiled knowingly at Andy.

  Andy closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head in disbelief.

  The officers walked through into the back of the shop and, satisfied that Kayleigh wasn’t there, they took the index cards and made their way back to the car.

  ‘She can’t wait to get m’ kit off?’ said Ned.

  ‘You think so do you? I’m not sure your lass would be too pleased at you taking Marlene out, do you?’

  ‘Ah, what she doesn’t know, me old son, won’t hurt her, will it? Come on Mr Grumpy,’ Ned laughed, ‘You’re just jealous because she fancies me.’

  ‘Whatever,’ said Andy as he opened the car door and jumped inside.

  Chapter 7

  Jackie and Vicky were at the Harwood house, carefully going through Kayleigh’s personal belongings in her bedroom. Watching them from the doorway, Kim leant against the door jamb for support, pulling an oversized angora cardigan tight around her tiny frame.

  ‘I know I’ve already given you a picture of Kayleigh, but this one is a particular favourite of mine,’ she said, removing a glossy picture from a dark wooden frame and wiping a tear away. ‘It was only taken recently; a reception at the hairdressing college. She won first prize in the Fantasy Style class and she was so proud,’ she said touching her daughter’s image. ‘The Principal presented her with a necklace that had a pair of golden scissors on it.’ Vicky reached for it, Kim pulled back. ‘You won’t lose it, will you?’ she said, clutching the picture to her chest as panic flashed into her eyes.

  Vicky stepped forward, put a soothing hand on her shoulder and took the photo. Kim lowered her gaze, making a soft whimpering sound.

  ‘I promise, we’ll take good care of it,’ Vicky said softly. She put a finger under Kim’s chin and, tilting it upwards, she smiled into her weary, tear-stained face. ‘Go make a cup of tea eh? I’m sure Jackie would like one and I definitely won’t say no.’

  Kim’s smile was weak but she turned on her heels and left them alone. Jackie frowned at Vicky. Quietly and industriously they continued to search through the teenagers things. Vicky placed a comb in a see-through evidence bag and sealed it, just as Kim walked back into the room with a tray of tea and a plate of biscuits.

  ‘I’m sorry, but we do need to take some items away with us, just in case ...’ said Vicky, when she saw the look on her face. The tray wobbled in Kim’s hands and the cups slid to one side but luckily Jackie was on hand to grab it from her, and gently she helped her put the tray on the top of a set of drawers.

  Kim sat on the corner of Kayleigh’s bed, taking deep breaths. In between, she sighed heavily. Jackie put an arm around her and rubbed her back soothingly. ‘Please don’t say... I can’t bear to think that something awful has happened. I keep getting this terrible feeling of foreboding. Is this how it’s going to end?’ Kim said. She flapped her hand in front of her face, and then swallowed hard, choking back the tears. ‘Oh, don’t mind me. Just do what you need to do.’

  Vicky picked up a cup of tea from the tray and placed it in Kim’s hands. ‘Drink this; it’ll make you feel better.’

  There was only one way to deal with this situation and that was to continue with as little fuss as possible. They took Kayleigh’s toothbrush, handheld mirror and her laptop. Vicky sat and busied herself tagging the bags. The quicker they got this task over with, the better. Hopefully, these few objects would give them a DNA sample, fingerprints and hair sample they needed and they would be able to check her use of the internet.

  All finished, the three women looked at each other, each immersed in their own thoughts. Kim Harwood broke the silence and talked about her daughter and how difficult it had been bringing her up on her own since her husband had died. ‘They were devoted to each other, you know ... I lost her dad,’ she said, wearily. ‘I can’t lose Kayleigh too. Please find her for me, please,’ she whispered as she looked into the eyes of each of the officers in turn. Tears ran down her cheeks and she bravely brushed them away. ‘I’m sorry, I just want her home,’ she sobbed.

  Jackie knelt in front of Kim to comfort her. ‘We’ll find her for you. We will...’

  ‘Kim, we need to search the rest of the house. It’s routine just to ensure she is nowhere here, no matter how ridiculous that might sound. An attic, a garage, a greenhouse or even an outhouse... people turn up in the strangest of places,’ Vicky said.

  Kim nodded and wiped her face with her handkerchief.

  ‘This shoe box, do you know if it relates to the boots she was wearing on the day she went missing?’ Vicky said.


  ‘Yes. She loves them; hasn’t had them off her feet since she bought them. Goodness knows how she wears them heels when she’s on her feet all day,’ Kim half smiled.

  ‘We’ll take that with us if you don’t mind, it will help us identify the type of boot and if the receipt is inside...’ she said taking off the lid and retrieving a small piece of paper which she waved in front of her, ‘this tells us when and where she purchased them and even who served her.’

  ‘My goodness, you don’t leave anything to chance, do you?’ said Kim.

  ‘We can’t. Our boss’s favourite saying is clear the ground beneath your feet first, and that’s what we all do. We’ll be checking out anyone and everyone that she has had contact with lately.’

  ‘Well,’ Kim sighed. ‘All I can say is thank you so very much from the bottom of my heart for everything you’re doing.’

  ‘All part of the service,’ smiled Vicky as she reached out and gave Kim a brief hug before leaving.

  ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘It’s so much more than that.’

  Dylan was in his office, wading through the endless heap of paperwork that came with modern day policing. He stopped for a moment, yawned and sighed, deep in thought. What he would give to be home with Jen and Maisy right now.

  ‘Pen-pusher to pram-pusher,’ he texted. ‘How’re my favourite girls? Cheer me up. Monthly stats are doing my head in.’

  ‘Little Maisy is fast asleep and she’s snoring her head off, just like her daddy.’

  Dylan smiled.

  ‘Walking around Sibden Park with Max. He’s pulling the pram up the hill for me while I text. ’

  ‘Fancy being jealous of a dog! x’

  ‘Don’t be late tonight then! Love you x’ Jen replied.

  Dylan’s desk phone rang. He was so deep in thought, it made him jump. ‘Dylan,’ he snapped.

  ‘Yes sir, Sgt Simon Clegg, I’m with the search and rescue team and I thought I’d let you know that we’ve found a lady’s fur jacket on the outskirts of the woods above the old Cragg quarry, about three miles as the crow flies from where the young lady left her car.’

  ‘Is the jacket still in situ?’ asked Dylan with a furrowed brow.

  ‘For now sir. My officers are continuing to search around it, and I’ve arranged for SOCO to come and photograph.’

  ‘Good. I’ll get my all-weather gear and be with you in about twenty minutes. I have your location.’

  A thought crossed his mind. Scenes of Crimes Officers would very soon be renamed Crime Scene Investigators in West Yorkshire, he had read. How American was that going to sound when officers were telling him CSI were on their way?

  The day was one of sailing clouds and splashes of sunlight. The main road was still littered with the odd abandoned vehicle, haphazardly parked. As Dylan turned into the entrance of the unmade road leading to the quarry, he slowed. The snow was too compacted to hold his wheels. The car lurched, wallowed, skidded and stuck. The back wheels spun on the ice. A few yards beyond the clearing, the track died away and the rough terrain beyond would have been impossible to negotiate over the moorland in his vehicle, even in good weather. Dylan knew he would never get as close as the search and rescue vehicles. This was a solitary place to separate a man from bricks and mortar, he thought as he got out of his vehicle. Pulling on his wellingtons from the boot of his car, he considered his walk down the uneven man-made footpath. The sun intermittently broke through the fast moving cirrostratus cloud cover to form black shadows on the ground. The wind picked up as he marched across the stark moorland. He took his gloves out of his pockets and put them on. The path snaked its way downwards amid thickening bracken, heather and a tangle of old laurels, covered in more places than not with thick, solid, packed snow mounds. He slipped and stumbled along the way, and where the snow was light, dead wood crackled under his feet.

  The wind was in his hair and billowing out his coat and he fought to pull it tightly around him. The quarry itself was screened by banks and trees. Dylan walked toward the police Land Rover and soon he could make out steep, sloping layers with benches in the rock faces that looked like giant flat steps in the quarry. Dylan strode out with purpose towards a group of officers, putting his hands in his pockets and screwing up his face as the wind sprayed snow at him on the breeze. A chill ran down his spine. He remembered only too well the difficulties they had had in the past getting down to the waters. He could see a large overgrown hole excavated into the rock. The colours within the steep layers were incredibly stark, grey, pink, red, yellow and black. As he neared, he passed a few old, rusty remnants of machinery, diggers, scrapers and transporting dumper trucks that had been left there to rot. The murky waters now in sight were estimated to be about ten foot deep, if his sources were correct. It had been thought an ideal place to hide a body back in the summer of 2003 when the tired, disillusioned police officers had discarded their wet gear here to dry out on the overgrown rhododendron bushes. The suggestion was then that a car dealer’s body had been dumped there after an alleged contract killing. Nothing was ever found; now would it have to be searched again – but with success this time? Only time would tell.

  Dylan approached Sgt Clegg, who was looking intently at what turned out to be a mass of snow covered fern that had piled itself like a small tent, around the trunk of a fir. In this sheltered place the air was like deep water. He nodded. The officers were beating the hedges in an attempt to find Kayleigh Harwood. Dylan stood still, watching the approaching men from the base of the quarry. Now and again one of them would peer under the spreading branches of a thorn. Suddenly, everyone’s attention was diverted in the direction of an English springer spaniel that had begun circling the ground about a hundred yards away. ‘Sir,’ Clegg nodded to Dylan. ‘Best have a look, it may be something of relevance. Vegas’s usually very good. Three years old, but has one hell of a nose,’ he said. Dylan walked silently alongside the sergeant towards a solid looking liver and white bitch.

  ‘She certainly seems to be excited about something,’ said Dylan, his face suddenly illuminated.

  Chapter 8

  Andy and Ned arrived at Matt Prentice’s flat and were invited in. With trained eyes, they analysed his replies to their questioning about Kayleigh and studied his body language closely.

  Kayleigh’s boyfriend was co-operative and came across as genuine and very concerned about his girlfriend. But if he was so fond of her, as much as he professed, why would he let a week pass without contact, wondered Andy?

  Matt apologised for the state of the apartment. He picked up clothing strewn over the furniture so they could sit down. ‘Sorry, I haven’t had chance to clear up.’ He sniffed, his chest still congested.

  ‘You don’t need to bother for us,’ Ned said, looking at the amount of personal belongings also on the bedroom floor that could be seen though the open door of the lounge. It was no different from the majority of young people’s flats they saw, but he would put his wages on Matt being able to lay his hands on any specific item if it was needed.

  ‘Any of this Kayleigh’s?’ asked Andy.

  ‘Most of it,’ he said, plucking a cardigan from the back of the chair he was sitting in and holding it against him. ‘She spends more time here than she does at home these days,’ he said, before turning his head. He sneezed into his hand and then sneezed again into the air.

  ‘So, tell us about Wednesday 7th January, what happened?’ said Ned.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Matt said, blowing his nose on a crumpled tissue. ‘I don’t usually see Kayleigh on a Wednesday, it’s the one day a week she goes home to blow dry her mum’s hair. But that night I received a text from her asking if she could come here because of the snow. As if she needed to ask. I told her that I was at Dave’s,’ he said, with a shrug. ‘She texted me later to say she was stuck in the snow but listening to the radio for advice on what to do. I guess, quite rightly so, she was miffed with me because I was in the warm, at m’ mates. She’d guess we were playing computer games.’

&n
bsp; ‘Is that the last time you heard from her?’ Andy said, making notes in his pocket book.

  ‘Yeah. Look, Kayleigh has her own key; if, she had got here she could have let herself in. What else could I do? If she was stuck, then I’d have got stuck too if I’d attempted to get to her. I stayed at Dave’s for the night. Then I started with this lot,’ he said, grabbing another tissue from the box, blowing his nose loudly and throwing both tissues in the direction of the rattan bin. ‘I thought she’d just gone home until Kim rang me and told me otherwise.’

  ‘So you were at Dave’s all night?’ said Ned.

  ‘Yeah, we finished off a bottle of vodka he had left over from Christmas,’ he laughed, half-heartedly. ‘I couldn’t stand up. I felt so ill the next day, what with the drink and this lot. When I did make it home, I just about managed to crawl into bed and then slept the clock round. I feel bad now. You don’t think something serious has happened to her, do you? Like this is just routine procedure for somebody that’s missing? You think she’ll be okay, don’t you?’

  ‘We hope so, but we do need to trace her. I don’t need to tell you how bad the weather was that night. If she set off walking, who knows where she ended up?’ said Andy.

  ‘She wouldn’t have set off walking. I know Kayleigh, she doesn’t do walking unless it’s round the shops. She’d have stayed in her car, I’m sure. She wouldn’t have risked ruining her new boots for anything.’

  ‘Do you think she’d accept a lift?’ said Andy.

  ‘Not unless she knew the person offering. She’s not stupid. She was the most sensible person I know... Kayleigh’s street-wise, but it is unlike her not to be in touch. Is there anything I can do? I feel so frigging useless just sat here.’

  ‘You can compile a list of everyone you both know for us – and I mean everyone. No matter how trivial the connection – friends, work colleagues, etcetera, absolutely anyone you can think of. We’ll need your mate Dave’s details too, to check out your story,’ Andy said.