by Jack Jordan
‘Don’t leave me,’ she whispered.
She sat up and snatched blindly at her pocket for her phone. It dripped in her hands, soaked from the sea. She threw it to the ground, then lay back down beside him and buried her face in his fur.
Something moved beneath his coat. She darted her head towards his chest and pressed her ear against it, breathing in the scents of sea and blood, the fumes so potent it was like heaving in gulps of kerosene.
A heartbeat.
TWENTY
Marcus’s tie lay beside the computer mouse, stained with blotches of black coffee. His shirt was untucked beneath the desk. The funeral had taken it out of him. Lisa had made sure he returned to work while the rest of them drank, ate, and tried to forget that one of their own had been murdered.
Marcus hadn’t known Amber long, so it had made sense for him to go back to the office and continue with the case, but coming from Lisa, it felt vindictive. She wanted him excluded, with nothing but the tick of the clock for company.
He rubbed his eyes. The paperwork on his desk was blurry. He blinked furiously until the words came into focus again. He picked up the call logs from Amber’s disposable phone. The phone she had used to contact Cassie Jennings.
Their victims had known each other.
More importantly, their victims had known something dark enough for the killer to hunt them down and slash their necks like cattle in an abattoir.
The phone on his desk rang out and made him jump. He had been sitting in silence for hours. He snatched the phone up and spoke quickly.
‘Detective Sergeant Marcus Campbell.’
‘Hi, son, it’s Carl Roster returning your call. I got your voicemail.’
Even though he was alone, Marcus glanced around the office to make sure he wouldn’t be overheard.
‘Detective, thank you for calling me back.’
‘I’m not a detective any more, son, I’m an OAP.’ He laughed on the other end of the line, then coughed. ‘You said in your message that you were looking into the Hayley Miller case?’
‘That’s right,’ Marcus said. ‘I have reason to believe it may be linked to new attacks.’
‘You mean those murdered women?’
Marcus’s instinct was to deflect, but he remembered that Roster had been a detective many more years than he had. If he wanted Roster to share his thoughts on the case, Marcus would have to share too.
‘Yes, sir.’
Roster sighed. ‘It was a messy case, that one. What makes you think it’s connected to the recent attacks?’
‘The crime scenes seem similar to the one described in Miller’s case file, but the main reason is …’
He wondered where Roster would stand on what he was about to tell him. Had he been a part of the cover-up?
‘Yes, son?’
Marcus took a deep breath.
‘I believe my superiors are burying the Miller case to keep the corruption scandal in the dark, when there is reason to believe the two are related.’
He listened to the man breathing down the phone.
‘That’s dark water you’re getting yourself into, son.’
‘I know.’
Roster was quiet again.
Being called ‘son’ did something to Marcus. It made him wonder if Roster was a father, and a good one, compared to his own.
‘Talk to Miller’s mother,’ the older man said eventually. ‘She had her own theories, but they weren’t followed up.’
‘Thanks, sir. I owe you one.’
‘If you get anywhere with the case, let me know. It’s stuck with me, that missing girl.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘And son?’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘Be careful digging up this case. If your bosses want it buried, they’re likely to bury you too if they find you with the spade, you understand?’
‘I do. Thanks, Detective.’
Marcus replaced the phone and rubbed his face. If Roster was part of the cover-up, all he could do now was wait for repercussions. If he wasn’t reprimanded in the next few days, he would continue digging and contact Hayley Miller’s mother.
His mobile phone vibrated against the desk. It was only when he checked the screen that he realised how late it was. Natalie was calling.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the time.’
‘I’ve been waiting for you to come home for over two hours, Marcus.’
He thought of her sitting at the small table in their flat, looking across at his plate of food as it cooled. Her long black hair would be straightened, her make-up fresh, her clothes chosen especially, her brown eyes slowly filling with tears.
‘I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.’
‘I have a job too, Marcus.’
‘I know, I know. I’m sorry.’
‘So are you coming home any time soon? Or should I finish off this bottle of wine and get an early night?’
PC Tanya Earnhart appeared in the doorway of the office, alarm and excitement in her eyes. Marcus covered the mouthpiece.
‘A blind woman has been found wandering along the beach. She was attacked and her dog was stabbed. Is that your witness from Amber’s case?’
Marcus thought of the scene, blood smeared on the wet sand and turning the white foam of the broken waves a light pink. If they wanted to find out who had done this, he had to act fast.
‘Shit. Hold on.’
He uncovered the mouthpiece and heard a gulp of wine slide down Natalie’s throat.
‘I’m really sorry, Nat, but I have to—’
‘Oh, save it.’
He listened to her hang up, then pocketed his phone and rushed for the door.
TWENTY-ONE
The station smelt of salt from the sea. Marcus knew he shouldn’t think of Naomi as anything more than a witness, but as he made his way to the interview room, his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again.
He reached the door to the room and took a deep breath before turning the handle and stepping inside.
Naomi was visibly shaking. Her hair was riddled with sand, and traces of splattered blood still stained her forehead. She was wrapped in the same blanket as before, her freshly bandaged hands holding another cup of steaming tea. It was like stepping into the past.
She had been found calling for help, her dog bleeding in her arms, her legs buckling with the weight of him. She had walked for hours up and down the beach, waiting for someone to find her.
‘Naomi.’
‘Hello, Detective.’ Her voice was solemn, hoarse from hours of screaming for help. Marcus imagined her stumbling up the beach, crying out again and again.
‘I’m sorry to have to see you like this again,’ he said, sitting opposite her. He was glad Lisa wasn’t here. Doing this alone meant actually getting some help for the woman. Lisa had been drinking at the wake, and Marcus didn’t want to know how cruel she could get during an interview with wine in her veins.
‘Me too.’
He pressed play on the recorder.
‘I’ll be recording our conversation again. Are you okay with that?’
She nodded.
‘For the purpose of the tape, Naomi Hannah nodded her head.’ He reeled off the formality of information for the tape, and then focused his attention on the broken woman before him.
‘Naomi, can you tell me what happened tonight?’
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, bracing herself.
‘Is Max still alive?’ she asked.
‘As far as I know.’
Her shoulders visibly relaxed.
‘He will be in surgery for some time. Likely for most of the night. What happened to him? To you?’
‘We were walking on the beach. We must have been down there for over an hour. When it got colder, we began to walk home. Max started growling. Someone was there in front of us.’
Tears filled her bloodshot eyes as they jittered from left to right, searching for the memory. Marcus half expected the tears to run red.
> ‘I turned back. I only managed a few steps before he pushed me to the ground.’
‘He?’
‘While I was getting up, Max attacked him and I heard a man’s cry. It was definitely a man.’
‘You’re sure?’
She nodded. A tear plummeted towards her jaw.
‘Max bit him, I’m not sure where, but I could hear it. He was growling, with something in his mouth. But then he …’
She covered her face with bandaged hands.
‘It’s okay. Take your time.’
She stayed shielded behind her hands for a moment.
‘Would you like a tissue?’
She nodded and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, soiling the fresh bandage. Marcus hovered a tissue above her hand and let the tip brush against her fingertip to let her know it was there.
‘Thanks.’
She wiped her cheeks, blew her nose.
‘What happened next, Naomi?’
‘Max started yelping. I took hold of the attacker’s leg and dug my nails into it. I could hear the strength that was being put into those punches, Detective. This person … this person was filled with hate. Well, I thought they were punches until later, when I felt the cuts.’
Marcus stayed silent, conscious of letting her tell him in her own way.
It felt wrong to admire her beauty without her consent. She had no idea that he was eyeing her lips, the shape of her eyes, the smooth skin on her cheeks. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t help it. She was beautiful.
He looked down at her fingernails and hoped his colleagues might have found deposits of skin and blood nestled beneath them.
‘The attacker picked me up and threw me aside like I weighed nothing. I hit my head on a rock and didn’t wake up until some time later. The tide had started to come in. That’s when I found him.’
Silence fell between them. Naomi wrung her hands in her lap. Marcus cleared his throat.
‘Other than the incident in the alleyway, do you know anyone who might want to cause you or Max harm?’
She thought about it, but eventually shook her head.
‘What about your past?’ He looked down at her bare wedding finger. ‘Any former partners?’
‘I have an ex-husband. It’s complicated, but he would never want to hurt Max or me. Max was his dog too, in many ways.’
‘How is it complicated?’
‘We’re friends.’
‘And that’s complicated?’
‘I think so. Dane doesn’t understand that I need to detach myself from our relationship. He is adamant that we should stay friends, even after two years.’
Dane Hannah. The same name from Amber’s case file. Naomi’s ex-husband had been questioned in her disappearance.
‘Has he remarried?’
‘No. He has a girlfriend, though. Josie. Blonde and pretty, I’m told. Younger.’
Marcus looked at his notes from the first interview.
‘And what about your workplace? Do you have good relationships with your bosses? Co-workers?’
‘I’ve worked for Mitchell and Peggy for twenty years, and Nick is only young. Nice kid. Doesn’t say much.’
The normal chatter allowed some colour to return to her cheeks.
‘Are all the customers nice people?’
She nodded, rubbing her thumb up and down the side of the cup.
‘What about your family?’
The colour seemed to vanish again. There was something to be told there, but he knew he had to ease the information out of her. He didn’t want her to shut down.
‘I’m close to my mother and sister. My sister, Grace Kennedy, has two kids and a stay-at-home husband, Craig. She works from home two days a week, comes over on Wednesdays with my mum.’
‘And your father?’
She swallowed and began ripping the tissue. ‘I never knew my father.’
He let the conversation fall so she would fill the silence.
‘My … my biological mother left me at a bus stop when I was three. Rachel found me and adopted me. She’s my mother, has been since that day.’
‘Have you ever spoken to your biological mother?’
She shook her head.
‘So there is no one in your life who might want to see you harmed?’
‘No.’ She sighed. ‘But … something happened before.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just before this all started, before Amber, someone banged on my front door but wouldn’t respond when I answered. But I knew they were there, I could feel it. I could hear someone breathing. I wasn’t hurt, just rattled.’
He measured his tone to seem interested rather than frustrated. ‘Why didn’t you mention this before?’
‘It seemed so small compared to what happened the night I found Amber. It didn’t even enter my mind. So much has happened since then.’
Her fingertips pulled at the tissue until small pieces littered the table.
‘Do you think the person who did this might have been the person in the alley?’ she asked, her blank gaze resting on his neck.
‘That’s certainly something we’ll be looking into.’
He took a deep breath.
‘Naomi, did you know Hayley Miller?’
‘Everyone knew Hayley Miller,’ she said. ‘She was my sister’s best friend. Why?’
He wrote down the relationship on his notepad.
‘What is happening to you may not be connected, but I’m looking into every possibility.’
‘I didn’t know her very well. I kept to myself as a kid. But she and my sister were close, more like sisters than we were.’
He heard the hurt in her voice, watched her pick apart the tissue until it was gone from her hands.
‘You promised no one else would get hurt,’ she said. ‘You said you didn’t think I was in danger, and now Max has been …’ She couldn’t finish. Tears welled in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if they were tears of sadness or anger. ‘You promised me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, unsure what else he could say. He had let her down, broken a promise he should never have made.
‘Do you … do you think my life is in danger now?’
He knew that once a victim thought they were in danger, they expected answers and fast. Lisa didn’t believe Naomi was at risk, and if he told Naomi what he thought, he would have two women to convince. He looked into her wandering eyes.
‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘I do.’
Lisa entered the office, bringing in the cold night with her, and shrugged off her coat.
‘Anything?’ she asked.
‘Not yet,’ Blake replied as his eyes continued to scan the CCTV footage that they had acquired from the beach shop on the seafront. He looked noticeably haggard beneath the strip lighting.
Marcus couldn’t help but look at Blake differently after reading Hayley Miller’s file. The corruption. The buried secrets. Blake was hiding something, not just from them, but from the investigation. If the cases were linked, he was a suspect. Marcus wondered how far Blake would go to protect his secret from emerging. He had already lied about his argument with Amber before her murder. What else did he have to hide?
‘Naomi dug her nails into the attacker’s ankle,’ Marcus said. ‘Swabs have been taken for possible DNA and sent off for analysis.’
‘Good,’ Lisa said.
‘Naomi said something ominous like this has happened to her before.’
Lisa scoffed as she hung up her coat. ‘Have another dog, did she?’
‘Someone knocked on her door but wouldn’t speak when she asked who was there.’
‘So some kids were playing a prank.’
‘She didn’t believe it was kids.’
‘Well, how would she know?’
He clenched his jaw.
‘This could be completely unrelated,’ she said. ‘The killer likes women, not dogs.’
‘And one of those women was the owner of the dog.’
She stared
him down until his right eyelid began to twitch.
‘Those killings weren’t personal. This attack was. You don’t try to kill a blind person’s dog and leave them to live unless you want them to suffer. The person who killed Amber and Cassie Jennings didn’t taunt them – he executed them. Different motives. Different killers. And you know killers like this choose victims within their own ethnicity group. Naomi doesn’t fit his preference.’
‘Naomi confirmed that the person who attacked her dog was a man. The dog bit him and he yelled.’
‘Maybe the next time she’s attacked we’ll get a little bit more detail. She likes to ration out the information, doesn’t she?’
‘I believe she is in danger and needs police protection.’
Lisa laughed. She was enjoying it.
‘For an attack on a dog? Not a chance. We haven’t got the resources to pass out officers like Tic Tacs.’
‘You said the attack on her dog was personal. Doesn’t that qualify her for protection? Someone wants her to suffer, and is unlikely to stop until she’s hurt too.’
‘I’m not authorising it, Marcus. You might want to remember that one of our own was buried yesterday.’
‘Lisa,’ Blake said, looking up from his screen with bloodshot eyes. ‘I might have found something.’
They both made their way to his desk and peered down at the screen. As Blake talked, Marcus wondered what he had looked like when he was younger, when he was a suspect in Hayley Miller’s disappearance.
‘This CCTV footage from the shop on the beachfront recorded Naomi and her dog walking down the beach. Ten minutes later, a blonde woman walked the same way.’
‘Show me.’
They all watched as he rewound the footage. Cars reversed up and down the street, before a blonde woman emerged from the beachfront steps and walked backwards across the road and out of the shot, followed by Naomi and her dog. Blake pressed play and let the footage roll. Marcus eyed his colleague’s reflection in the computer screen. The shadows around his eyes made them look like they were sinking into his skull.
Naomi and the dog crossed the street. The digital clock in the right-hand corner of the screen said 16:39.
‘It takes a few minutes for Blondie to show up.’
‘Fast forward,’ Lisa said.
