Snow Kills

by RC Bridgestock

  ‘Why would I lie?’ Matt said, looking bemused. ‘I know when girls go missing, you lot and everyone else automatically suspects the boyfriend, but honestly, I swear I didn’t see her that night.’

  ‘Didn’t say you’ve lied, but some do and so we have to verify everything anybody says.’ said Ned.

  ‘She’s my girl, you know,’ he said, his voice choked with emotion.

  Obtaining the necessary details and ensuring that Kayleigh was nowhere on the premises the two detectives headed back to the police station.

  ‘He seemed straight enough,’ said Ned.

  ‘Yeah but you noticed like I did that he used the past tense about Kayleigh when he said. ‘She was the most sensible person...’ didn’t you?’ said Andy.

  ‘What you saying?’ said Ned.

  ‘I think we should never assume,’ said Andy, with a grim face.

  Sgt Clegg managed to curtail Vegas’s barking at the edge of Cragg Quarry. The Springer Spaniel had found a lady’s black boot and was over-excited.

  Dylan dropped to his haunches to take a closer look, put his hands in his pockets and was alone with his thoughts as he stared at the item of footwear. The boot was of the same description as the one Kayleigh had been wearing on the day she had gone missing. He could see part of a sale label still stuck in the arch of the sole. He looked around him but there was no sign of other clothing or footwear. Dylan glanced down the precipice into the depths of the dank quarry through the broken, rusty metal mesh fence directly ahead. Had she taken that fall? Was she at the bottom in the dark waters? If so, there was one thing for certain, she was never coming back alive.

  The logistics for the search team would be a nightmare, with that steep climb down. But then, and only then could the water beneath be searched. He didn’t envy the Operational Support Team, but he knew he could rely on them to do a thorough job. When he got back to the station he would make the request for the location to be searched. Somebody would be doing a detailed risk assessment for Health and Safety issues, but thankfully not him. Now the right boot that had been found, it would be photographed in situ, then bagged and tagged with the chance of forensics getting DNA from inside it. He would hope and keep positive, for while there was a chance of Forensics coming up trumps he couldn’t miss the opportunity to use it, no matter what the financial cost.

  The prospect of finding Kayleigh alive was not looking good. The severe weather conditions, the revelation of a fur jacket and now a boot turning up were inconclusive. He was well aware that hypothermia caused people to discard clothing, so it didn’t always follow that there had been foul play. He had dealt with naked bodies found outside with clothing strewn about them, which he had learned very early on in his career was a reaction to nothing sinister, just the extreme cold that made the victims feel hot – and at this point they would remove their clothing. But it was more than likely that Kayleigh was dead. He would never assume, but this missing girl had got his full attention.

  Chapter 9

  The briefing was about to start. Dylan had invited Sgt Clegg from OSU, who was in charge of the team instructed to search Cragg Quarry and the waters at its base.

  ‘Judging by Ned’s new look, boss, I think it’s pretty obvious where he’s been today don’t you?’ said Vicky as she ruffled her colleague’s hair.

  ‘Give up,’ he said, awkwardly.

  ‘You pay for that Ned?’ Dylan said as he passed on his way to the front of the room, knowing full well what detectives were like.

  ‘I offered,’ he replied, and taking a new comb from his breast pocket, he ran it through his newly styled hair.

  Andy looked the other way; Dylan noticed and shook his head.

  ‘Right!’ Dylan said, clapping his hands to get the team’s attention. ‘Vicky, what’ve you got for us?’

  ‘We’ve obtained another photo of Kayleigh, and also seized her toothbrush, comb, hairbrush for potential DNA samples as well as a hand mirror she used, from which hopefully we can get her fingerprints. Her laptop is there,’ she said, pointing to her desk. ‘Jackie and I searched the house. Kim, Kayleigh’s mum, is distraught and kept reinforcing to us that her not being in contact is totally out of character.’

  Andy cleared his throat. ‘That was echoed by Kayleigh’s boyfriend, Matt Prentice. He told us that in his opinion she was streetwise and wouldn’t accept a lift from a stranger, neither did he think she’d get out of the car and set off walking. He firmly believes she would have stayed in her car and adhered to the advice that was being given over the radio.’

  ‘We’ve collected the index cards with the names and telephone numbers of regular customers at the hairdressers where she works, but it’s also what you’d call a ‘drop in’ salon, so people do call in as casual customers,’ Ned said. ‘Mavis Beanland was her last customer on the day she went missing.’

  Andy interrupted. ‘Marlene, the shop owner, did mention a bit of a strange character who dresses like a Teddy boy and sits outside the shop. He calls in regularly for Kayleigh to trim his hair. His name is Donny Longbottom and she tells us that the regulars tease her about him as he appears to have a bit of a crush. He’s possibly in his early twenties, she thinks.’

  ‘Do we know how to get hold of him?’

  ‘We don’t have contact details, but we’re told he’s outside the salon most days. She says she’ll let us know when he appears again,’ said Andy.

  ‘Is he known to us? Check him out with the Intelligence office – I want him tracing. We also need to speak to Mavis Beanland and any other customers we can get hold of to see if they’ve seen her. Who knows, one of them may have offered her a lift or shelter that night. The houses near to the abandoned car, I want them checking and searching if need be and what about the shelters set up near by?’

  ‘PC Alan Hughes has done a bit of a house to house sir,’ said Jackie. ‘There aren’t many dwellings in the immediate vicinity.’

  ‘I know he has, but I want us to visit again. We’ve found a fur jacket and a lady’s right black boot, both of these are possibly Kayleigh’s. They were found near to Cragg Quarry and yes, before you ask, it’s going to be searched – although I’m fully aware it will be a difficult task, Simon.’ Dylan nodded apologetically in Sergeant Clegg’s direction. ‘Vicky, Jackie, I want you to show the items that we have found to Kayleigh’s mum and her boyfriend to see if we get a positive ID before we send them to the forensic lab.’

  ‘The continued search by the team has not revealed the left boot,’ Sergeant Clegg told the assembled team.

  ‘Ned, Andy can you get on with compiling a list of properties in that area, giving priority to the nearest to her car and working outwards? I want them searching ASAP,’ Dylan said. ‘I’ll get onto the press office and let them have Kayleigh’s latest picture to put another appeal out to the public for anyone who saw her that evening or since to come forward. Do we know if any money has been withdrawn from her bank account and have we got her mobile phone being checked out?’

  ‘Battery was flat. I found in the foot well on the passenger side of her car,’ said PC Hughes. ‘It’s in the property store sir.’

  ‘What the hell are you playing at? Get it sent to the hi-tech department immediately for them to download the data. It doesn’t matter if the battery’s bloody flat, you shouldn’t be trying to turn it on. We can get the incoming and outgoing data via a charter application.’

  ‘Point taken, boss,’ Ned said, looking directly at the sheepish PC. ‘I’ll chase that one up.’

  ‘Bank account?’

  ‘Nothing withdrawn boss,’ said Andy.

  Briefing over, Dylan telephoned the force press office to renew the appeal for Kayleigh, stating that there were concerns for her welfare due to the fact that she had not been seen or heard from by family or friends since White Wednesday, when it appears she, along with others, abandoned their cars at the roadside on the Manchester Road, due to the extreme weather conditions. ‘The Police, along with Search and Rescue Teams
, are combing the surrounding area and countryside,’ he said to Claire Rose. ‘And I want to hear from anyone using Manchester Road that night or parking their vehicles up on that road due to the extreme weather conditions too.’

  He put the phone down and picked it straight up again to telephone Jen.

  ‘Hello,’ a quiet, sleepy voice said.

  ‘Jen? Everything alright?’

  ‘Fine, I must have nodded off. Maisy had a bad night.’

  ‘Did she?’ Dylan grinned sheepishly. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure everything is okay.’

  ‘Anything happening at your end?’ Jen said, yawning.

  ‘They’ve found a shoe and a jacket which looks like it’s the missing girl’s near to Cragg Quarry. So it’s going to have to be searched’.

  ‘Not sounding good then?

  ‘No...’ he sighed.

  ‘Home on time?’

  ‘So far, so good’

  ‘See you then, love you.’

  ‘Love you more,’ Dylan said. With a smile, he hung up.

  Jen sighed with contentment. Ever since Maisy’s birth, Dylan had stuck to his promise to her. She could see he was making a real effort to get home at a reasonable time and keeping in touch with her. He hadn’t been called out as often as before her birth either and he was sleeping through, even if Maisy wasn’t. She hoped thinking about her good fortune wasn’t going to tempt fate.

  ‘Editor of the Harrowfield Courier, on the phone for you boss!’ shouted Vicky from the main CID office.

  ‘Inspector Dylan.’

  ‘Virginia!’ Dylan said brightly.

  ‘Tell me,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you think there is any connection with the girl who went missing twenty years ago on a similar winter’s night on Manchester Road? I can’t find anything to suggest she was ever heard from since. Is history repeating itself, do you think?’

  Dylan raised his eyebrows. ‘Hey, slow down. Firstly that was before I joined up and don’t forget there are thousands of people go missing every year. What was the girl’s name, incidentally?’

  ‘Tina Walker. My sources say she was twenty years old and was last seen riding her bike along Manchester Road, on her way home from work. She was a bobbin winder at Standeven Woollen Mill in Ovenden at the time.’

  ‘I’ll dig out our reports on the case, but let’s not start upsetting the family unnecessarily. Kayleigh Harwood may turn up safe and well yet – and by God I hope she does.’

  ‘Will her Mum talk to me, do you think? You know the kind of interview I’m looking for, from the heart. That should get the readers involved. It’s every mother’s nightmare, a child going missing, no matter how old they are, isn’t it? It’ll be sure to get some interest for you from an article.’

  ‘I’ll ask, you’re right, it’ll help keep the interest of the public going but I have to emphasise it’s her decision, not mine. In the meantime, let’s not blow this all out of proportion. If or when there are any developments, as usual, I’ll make sure you’re aware.’

  ‘Thanks. Will you be speaking to her Mum today?’

  Dylan smiled to himself. ‘I’ll make sure someone speaks to Mrs Harwood today for you. Will that do you?’

  ‘Thank you Dylan, much appreciated,’ she said.

  Dylan put down the phone. Virginia had him thinking. Would there be any police files still in existence relating to the disappearance of Tina Walker? The reporter had obviously done her digging – but then he didn’t expect anything else from the dedicated local newspaper editor who was as keen as mustard. He was curious, more than anything. If there was any evidence found at the time of Tina’s disappearance and it was thought that it could have led to a murder enquiry, then he knew nothing would have been destroyed. He walked along the corridor to the intelligence office to see if PC Norman Tempest, the local intelligence officer, could throw some light on the incident. Norman was working on the thirty plus scheme, which meant he had over thirty years of police service, so he would have been in the job at the time of Tina Walker’s disappearance. Would he have been working the area at the time? Dylan knew it was more than likely, Bobbies weren’t moved around for the sake of it in those days. Not that long ago, all police officers knew their beat and its community like the back of their hands. Criminals may be undesirable, but nevertheless they were part of the community, as were informers. Officers of that era told how they saw the criminals of their early years have children and grandchildren who followed in their footsteps. What else had they to inspire to?

  Today’s Think Tank recommended moving officers around regularly to avoid corruption. These people had never worked the streets and their advice was absolute rubbish in Dylan’s eyes.

  ‘Eyup, just stretching your legs, or have you come to pick our brains?’

  ‘Bit of both Norman, to be honest,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Fancy a brew?’ he asked.

  ‘Why not,’ Dylan smiled broadly at his elder. He outlined the facts on the recent disappearance of Kayleigh Harwood and the call from Virginia asking if he thought the recent case could be linked to the disappearance of Tina Walker.

  ‘Tina Walker? Tina Walker, God above, you’re going back some years there, boss. A young lass who, if I remember rightly, used to cycle to Standeven Mill and back on Manchester Road. Strange job that. She was never found, neither was her bike. CID of the day looked into it, in fact it nearly saw the SIO off, but nothing came of it and there’s been nothing come to light to this day, that I know of. It was a real mystery. Aye, Barry ‘Razor’ Sharpe was the boss at that time. He had an eye for detail, a bit like you, if I might say so? Nothing normally got past him, hence the name,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘He still lives local. I see him on occasions at retirement do’s and funerals... sadly; it’s a sign of our age.’

  Dylan rolled his eyes.

  ‘You’ll come to it,’ he laughed. ‘Barry still lives and breathes that job, though. He’s the one to talk to. It’s the one crime that pestered him all the way to his retirement and now beyond.’

  ‘They say there’s always one that hurts an SIO more than any other, don’t they? Do you remember if there were any major suspects at the time?’

  ‘No, not that I remember anyhow,’ Norman’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Razor left no stone unturned, as I recall. He was gutted once all lines of enquiry were exhausted and he had no prisoner to show for all the hard work of the team. It was his only undetected job in his thirty year CID led career. If anyone went missing in them days and didn’t turn up, it was believed that they’d gone to London. If that had been right, London must have been downright full of missing people,’ he chuckled.

  ‘The days before computers,’ said Dylan thoughtfully. ‘So somewhere there should be an odd paper file stashed away I guess. I’ll try get hold of it and have a read,’ said Dylan.

  ‘I’d look at Tandam Bridge, in the attic. I seem to think that’s where the undetected murder files are kept, these days. That’s if Beaky in admin has kept her bloody hands off them, she’s always moving them around.’

  Dylan raised his eyebrows. ‘Ah, so that’s what she does.’

  ‘Quite,’ Norman said with a nod of his head. ‘There maybe more than an odd file boss. Should be a few shelves full of boxes and exhibits in relation to that job, I’m sure Barry’d be happy to talk you through the enquiry.’

  ‘If he were called Razor, I dread to think what they call me.’

  ‘You don’t want to know boss?’ he said.

  ‘Probably better I don’t,’ said Dylan. ‘Thanks for the chat and the coffee. I knew if anyone would know about the case it’d be you, mate.’

  ‘By gum you’ve got me thinking, weren’t they just the good ole days? Hey, lad I’m glad to be of some help. You’re not much use to anyone when you get to my age. I don’t know what I’ll do when they retire me out to grass. I always thought I’d do this job ’til I died, especially since I lost our lass.’

  ‘Nonsense, Norman.
I say you can’t beat experience in this job. Why would they get rid of the people with your knowledge and experience? The most effective policing yet has to be the village Bobby who was everybody’s confidant,’ Dylan said, as he took his leave.

  Dylan knew his next stop was to try to locate the file on Tina Walker. He set one of the incident room staff on its trail. It may or may not have any bearing on the recent disappearance of Kayleigh, but Virginia and Norman had whetted his investigative appetite. He was excited about looking at the pieces of this puzzle and putting them into a picture.

  It wasn’t long before a property store clerk appeared at Dylan’s office door with a rather large, old, battered, and dusty box.

  ‘Tina Walker file sir? There’s a lot more where this came from, if you want it, sir,’ he said.

  Dylan nodded eagerly.

  ‘Sign here,’ Trevor said, handing Dylan a form and a pen that he had wedged behind his ear. Trevor stood tall in his brown button-through overall, resting the delivery on the corner of Dylan’s desk.

  ‘Thank you,’ Dylan said, scribbling his signature as his eyes strayed to the parcel. ‘Yes, bring me the rest will you, and as soon as you can.’

  ‘All of it?’ Trevor said. ‘In here?’ he said, looking about him. He got his handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped the sweat from his face.

  ‘Yes,’ Dylan said placing the coveted box on the desk in front of him. What information would the papers within hold, he wondered as his hand hovered over them like a blind man touching Braille.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure. You’re the boss,’ Trevor said, shrugging his shoulders before leaving, trailing the empty trolley behind him.

  Dylan closed the office door behind him to savour the moment in peace. Carefully and with some trepidation, he opened the cardboard box and lifted from it a large, faded file tied with string. The paper was yellow, even golden, in places. The edges were roughed up and the corners curled and brittle. Dylan sneezed loudly as he brushed the top, worn, moss green cardboard cover with the palm of his hand. ‘The unexplained disappearance of Tina Walker, MURDER?’ he read aloud.