One Left Behind: A completely gripping and addictive crime thriller with nail-biting suspense (Detective Gina Harte Book 9)

by Carla Kovach

  Briggs nodded. ‘He’s with his solicitor at the moment.’

  She glanced down at the team. ‘We can’t let him go, not without the forensics results from the condom. We can keep him for twenty-four hours and press Bernard and his team to work as fast and hard as they can. After we’ve finished up here, I’ll re-interview him with his solicitor present, then we’ll make an arrest under suspicion of murder while we investigate. Wyre?’

  ‘Yes, guv.’ She clipped a strand of her shiny black hair back up into the bun on her head.

  ‘Find out as much as you can about him. We need to see if he has family and call them. Speak to his employer. They may have something to add about his character. Something they say might help.’

  Wyre nodded and made a note.

  ‘O’Connor?’

  ‘Yes.’ He sipped from a can of fizzy orange.

  ‘Continue going through the statements that have come in from the cottages and surrounding houses in the area?’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Right, onto the interviews. We’ll talk about our teenagers and what we have so far. I managed to glance at the updates quickly before the briefing so I’m hoping if I’ve missed something, you can all fill me in. I’ll start. I interviewed Naomi Carpenter. She claimed that they had all had a drink and smoked weed before Leah left for the Waterside Café. That short walk should have taken twenty minutes for the round trip but she was gone an hour. We have Rodney Hackett admitting that he saw Leah in the car park where he gave her a four-pack of lager. She arrived back at the camp where the party really kicked off and the group drank even more. We all know that she had recently had sex with someone. Bernard’s estimated time of death is between one and two in the morning. The next day, she is found dead by Naomi Carpenter. What happened between the party and the next morning when Naomi found her? There are several possibilities.’

  The sound of pens scribbling on paper filled the room. Gina’s shirt was beginning to stick to her upper torso so she turned on the fan. The open windows were letting dandelion seeds drift through and they were gathering in a strip against the far wall.

  ‘Possibilities include: there was an issue between one of the teens and Leah, then one of them killed her. Each partygoer is on the table as having opportunity at the moment. She was described as drunk and even slurring a little. That would make her an easy target, especially a few hours on. Then we have Rodney Hackett. He knew where she was. After having sex with her, consensual or not, we don’t know yet, maybe he deposited the condom under his truck. We need to look at the possibilities that she may have been drugged or had even feared him and went with what was happening – not struggling but not giving consent, either. We must also take into consideration that maybe she slept with him for the lager. These are just working possibilities at the moment. Or, maybe he headed to their camp later, when Leah was really drunk and high, where he waited and watched them all as they partied until he saw her alone. Naomi claimed that Leah got upset over something and had wanted to go home. Hackett could have seen her walking off and seized his opportunity. Maybe he followed her, raped her and then killed her, taking the condom away with him. Again, we come back to the fact that there is no evidence of a struggle. Then there is our resident on Oak Tree Walk. O’Connor, you processed this statement. Can you tell us more?’

  O’Connor wiped the sweat from his shiny head with a tissue and exhaled. ‘A Frank Meegan was charged in 2016 with voyeurism. He’d been caught in a supermarket’s toilets with a hidden camera on the floor of the toilets where he’d film and watch women. There were also other reports that couldn’t be proven at the time so were dropped by the CPS.’

  ‘What reports were they?’

  ‘Two women accused him of watching them through their bedroom windows two years earlier. When the case went to court others came forward. He’d also been accused of watching a teenage couple having sex in a wooden house on a play park one night. It took a lot for those kids to come forward but again they didn’t have any evidence. He soon became known as Pervy Frank.’

  ‘Where did this all take place?’

  ‘In the Croydon area.’

  ‘He’s definitely a person of interest. What do we know about him?’

  O’Connor flicked through a few pages. ‘He’s fifty and is a carer for his disabled wife. He used to be a joiner and he still works when he can.’

  ‘So, to sum up, we have a man charged with voyeurism who lives close by to where the murder of Leah Fenmore took place. Let’s add him to our list of possibilities. Maybe he spies on the teens when they have their parties. He watches them from the periphery, drinking, smoking drugs, then they pee in the bushes or maybe they have sex, but he’s there lurking. Had lurking not been enough? Does someone who gets their kicks from spying on people suddenly stop or do they move to somewhere new where they’re not known as Pervy Frank? Do they then just start again with a clean slate in the community where no one knows them? We have a lot to consider but, as always, theories are no good without evidence. I’ve taken a brief look at the statements of all the teens that were at the party.’

  Wyre stood up and turned another fan on, blowing a few sheets of paper across the table.

  Gina spoke a little louder but welcomed the addition of more cool air. ‘So far, all their statements match. That in itself is suspicious. It’s like they’re telling us what we already know. We could deduce that they were having a party, drinking and maybe smoking weed. They all said exactly the same things in what looked like the same order, both at the scene and in the follow-up interviews. The only one who veered off course was Naomi Carpenter who told me that she heard a rustling in the bushes while she was peeing this morning. Given what we know of Frank Meegan’s past, we need to investigate him fully. We need to speak to his wife, check to see if he has an alibi. In the meantime, I’m going back into the interview room with Rodney Hackett. Jacob, can you also organise a search warrant for his cab. From the notes I have, the load that was destined for Oxford is sealed, so the cab, not the trailer is our prime place to search. We are looking for evidence that Leah Fenmore went into his cab. Any clothes that might later match fibres at the scene of the murder should be seized. This could make or break the case so it needs handling with care.’

  ‘I’ll sort that as soon as we wrap up this meeting.’ Jacob bit the end of his pen and closed his pad.

  ‘Hackett is at present our hottest lead but that doesn’t mean we can drop the others. I want Leah’s killer found and I want him or her found fast. How are things going with the media?’

  Briggs stepped forward from the board and addressed the table. ‘I’ve put out a holding statement for now but as always they’re constantly onto Annie in corporate communications. They’ve already latched onto social media where people are speculating all sorts on Twitter and Facebook. It wasn’t helped that one of the teens tweeted from the scene just before we arrived. That would be…’ he glanced at the list of names on the board, ‘… Elsa James. There have been numerous responses which I know we’re monitoring.’

  Wyre interrupted. ‘I’ve been monitoring them from the go. One thing I did see this morning was a tweet that was made by a tweeter calling themselves TheMeeganMrs, basically blaming the parents. It was deleted soon after and she’d also hashtagged Oak Tree Walk. Maybe it’s Frank Meegan’s wife. I’ll continue to monitor her account.’

  ‘Great work, Wyre.’ Briggs smiled.

  Gina glanced across the board and to her notes, checking whether she’d missed anything. ‘We have the names and addresses of two other teens that were invited to the party. They knew about the party. They knew where it would be and they’d chosen not to attend. We need to speak to them. Wyre, could you check where we are with them? In an ideal world, I’d like to speak to both of them tomorrow. One last thing, we know Leah was upset when she left but no one we interviewed could shed any light as to why. I don’t buy the fact that Leah just upped and left late at night after a petty argument while faced
with an hour’s walk, alone in the dark. Something else happened, and I want to know what. Keep pressing on. Keep the system updated at every turn so that we all have full access to the case. That’s it for now.’

  As the room began to empty and the sound of chatter picked up, a PC walked up to Briggs and Gina. ‘We’ve been monitoring Mr Hackett and I thought I’d let you know, he agreed to the swabs being taken. They’re on their way to the lab.’

  Gina smiled at the woman. ‘Thank you.’ As she left, Gina turned to Briggs. ‘That was easy enough. His solicitor must have told him that there was no way he’s getting out of having them taken. We’ll have twenty-four hours to get those results back before we have to release him.’

  ‘Let’s get this done.’ Briggs went to leave. ‘Do you want to work on the case later, at mine or yours?’ He paused. ‘I don’t think you should be alone and I don’t want to be alone either.’

  ‘Can I call you in a bit?’

  She left Briggs standing by the board as she headed to the kitchen to make a quick drink. If Briggs came over, all they’d talk about was the messages and she couldn’t handle it, not tonight. She needed to wallow alone. Finding Leah’s murderer had to come first.

  The photo of the young girl’s body, legs jutting out of the bushes sent a shiver through her. The fingermarks on her neck. Hackett, Meegan, the party of teens. Her mind flitted between the three. All seemed possible at the moment but there was something about the lies told between Rodney Hackett and John Tallis, like some little pact had been made. There was more to their stories and they were both hiding the same thing.

  Gina tried to call Hannah again. Her mind working overtime but there was no answer, in fact, her daughter cut her off, then sent a text.

  I’m working. We need to talk and soon. I’ll message you when I can.

  That was all. Hannah knew something about the messages. It was obvious she was being more evasive than ever.

  She tried to call her daughter again but there was no answer. Gina wanted to throw the phone on the floor and stamp on it. Instead, she smashed her fist down onto the worktop. Why was this happening now? What did Hannah know?

  Fourteen

  Gina leaned over the interview table still reeling from her message exchange with Hannah. She clenched her teeth. Wyre sat beside her taking notes. Rodney Hackett and his solicitor were answering no comment to every question she and Wyre asked. They’d arrested him and had only a few hours to prove their case against him before they had to let him go. He’d be spending the night in a cell while they waited for the forensics results to come through. She checked the small window at the top of the door, hoping that Jacob would hurry with the authorised warrant to search his cab. The tape had been rolling for over fifteen minutes and not one useful word had come from Hackett’s lips.

  The solicitor mopped a film of perspiration from his glistening head for the third time in as many minutes. ‘My client doesn’t have anything to add other than what he’s already told you.’

  Gina glanced at her watch and movement caught her eye. She spotted Jacob through the window and all he did was give her a quick thumbs up. They were in a position to go. ‘It’s DI Harte. I’m opening the interview room door to let DS Driscoll in.’ As she stood and opened the door, Hackett swallowed. His solicitor remained steely faced.

  ‘Here it is, guv.’ Jacob placed the warrant into her hands and left.

  Gina remained silent for about half a minute as she placed the sheet of paper face down. Hackett uncomfortably squirmed in his chair as he stared at it. His face had reddened.

  ‘Mr Hackett, this is a warrant to search your cab. We are searching for any evidence that Leah Fenmore was in there or any evidence that you followed her to the camp later that night and murdered her. Do you understand?’

  He glanced at his solicitor and the solicitor held out his hand. Gina passed him the warrant where he peered at it for a few minutes and whispered in his client’s ear. ‘My client doesn’t wish to say any more at this time.’

  ‘Except I never touched her.’ Hackett slammed his hand on the table. ‘I gave her some beers, that’s all.’

  ‘But you originally lied to us about that, Mr Hackett.’

  ‘I knew how it would look.’

  Hackett’s solicitor gave him a nudge. ‘My client isn’t saying any more.’ The words were loud, clear and over-pronounced for the sake of Hackett getting the hint.

  ‘Okay. Interview ended at eighteen twenty-one.’ Gina gathered up her papers and nodded to Wyre to finish up. The clock was ticking and she had so much to do. Speaking to Bernard about the post-mortem was on the top of her agenda. Hopefully that would shed more light on Leah Fenmore’s murder.

  As she headed back to her office she grabbed a drink, then she went in and closed her door. Pushing the window wide open, she let out the musty smell that always seemed to linger. Her in tray was full, her inbox was heaving and she had several answerphone messages. Three of them were asking for callbacks which she did earlier, then there was one from O’Connor asking her to check the system for his latest updates.

  She skimmed through the updates. Not only was Frank Meegan’s full record attached, there was also the list of complaints from all the neighbours to the council and the press over the past couple of years; all about the kids partying in the woods and by the river. Nearly every person living in Oak Tree Lane had put in a complaint about antisocial behaviour. There were so many complainants, which gave so many motives. Graffiti, breaking into sheds, damage to cars, noise and litter. There were comments on social media stating that they wished all the kids would die, that they are a plague to the area. She glanced at the comments.

  If they were my kids, I’d kill them myself!

  Bloody self-entitled brats need a good kicking!

  Parents need stringing up!

  They are a disgrace and need dealing with. If the police or council won’t, we will!

  The list went on and on. Some posts on social media sounded more like a call to arms. Basically the whole community had issues with the kids that came to their blissful quiet location for a party. They thought the police and the council were doing nothing and Gina knew that they’d failed the community too. With cuts, it had become impossible to keep on top of these problems. One thing that did surprise her was that none of these comments came from Frank Meegan, but a couple of the tamer ones had come from his wife. Sometimes the people that didn’t speak were the ones who stood out and in his case, and given his past conviction, he stood out. Every person living there had something to say, everyone but him.

  She called Wyre. ‘Are we ready to search the cab?’

  ‘Yes, guv. I’ve just signed the keys out from Hackett’s belongings. Okay to leave in ten minutes?’

  ‘Definitely.’ She wanted to be there for this one. They were about to discover if Leah got into Rodney Hackett’s cab.

  Fifteen

  Caro sat on the garden swing and began playing a game on her iPad as the sun went down. It wasn’t working as a distraction; she couldn’t think about anything else but that message. Her stomach began to turn as she replayed those words in her head. Someone wanted to kill her.

  She glanced at the house. Her mum and dad were in the kitchen, clearing up after the sandwiches that they’d eaten since coming back home. Caro had binned hers when her mother looked away but the onset of a rumble in her stomach was making her nauseous. She bit a chunk out of her thumbnail.

  Her mum peered across and waved. Caro forced a smile and waved back, not wanting her mum to come over and make a fuss again. Placing her finger over the Twitter app, she closed her eyes, willing herself not to press. She would resist for now. Staring into the black hole that was social media would make things worse.

  ‘We’re having some ice cream. Do you want some?’ Jake ran towards her with his gappy smile. Since his timeout at Grandad’s he’d been a little nicer to her.

  ‘Yes, I’d love some.’ She turned her iPad off and took his hand, gl
ancing around as she led him back to the house where Caro’s mother was starting to dish up her favourite cookies and cream flavour. She wondered if someone was watching her every move, lurking outside the gate and looking through holes in the fence.

  ‘Get this down you.’ Her mother had filled a bowl.

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ She didn’t have the heart to tell her mum that she’d never eat it all but her mother was doing all she knew how to do and that was to fuss and protect.

  Her mother placed the scoop down and hugged her. ‘I can’t imagine how awful you’re feeling right now, but we’re a family and we’re going to get through what has happened together. The whole community is devastated.’

  No they weren’t. The whole community hated us. ‘That’s not what I read on Twitter earlier. Some people say that we should all die because we make them miserable.’

  ‘Well, those people don’t have a heart. Your friend was murdered and we’re all devastated, they should be banned from Twitter for saying things like that. Look. Put that away,’ her mother pointed to her iPad, ‘and don’t read their spiteful comments. They are nothing and nobody. Just a bunch of trolls.’

  Caro placed her iPad on the sideboard. ‘Okay.’ For once she agreed with her mother.

  ‘I’m just glad you weren’t at that party.’

  ‘And me.’ She had attended the last party but she wasn’t going to tell her mum that. Without warning, she remembered a smell. A pungent smell, maybe body odour, really strong. Her mind was giving her another link to what happened during her black out. Her dad left the room, taking Jake to set up a game in the living room. Sunday night board games had been a tradition in their family for as long as she could remember.