DAY FIVE.
Julie Adamson, as she now was, lived in a detached house on a large newly built estate in Pudsey. Before allowing Hunter and Grace into her home she kept them on the doorstep whilst she examined their police identification and looked them over. As they followed her through the hallway, Hunter took a glimpse of the 80s photograph he was holding; two teenage girls posing for the camera, one younger than the other. The youngest had long mousey hair and a pretty angelic face – it was her they were here about. The other girl, although some thirty-five years younger in the photo, clearly resembled the woman they were following along the hall.
She showed them through to a large open plan lounge dominated by a black corner suite. A large screen TV, above a replica Adams style fireplace, was on. It was showing a music channel video but the sound had been muted.
Julie displayed an anxious look as she switched off the TV with the remote, offered them the sofa and seated herself in a large matching armchair opposite. ‘I’m guessing from the phone call you’ve found Ann Marie and it’s not good news?’
Hunter gave the photograph another quick glimpse before offering it across for Julie to take. He couldn’t help but notice that her light brown hair still had the same bob-style as that in the photograph. He replied, ‘We don’t know that yet Julie. This is the photograph we have on our system of Ann Marie. I can recognise you in it. Can you just confirm for me that the girl standing next to you is your younger sister?’
Julie took it from him. Her hand was shaking. She looked at it for only a couple of seconds before nodding and returning her gaze. ‘That’s the last photo we had done together. I was nineteen and she was seventeen. Mum took it before we went out together one night. It was just as things were starting to go bad with Ann Marie.’ She handed it back. ‘Have you found her? Is she dead?’
Hunter clipped the photograph of Julie and Ann Marie Banks into his folder, ‘Honest answer Julie? we don’t know. I can tell you we have found a body of a female who we believe died in the nineteen-eighties, but we’re unable to identify who she is at the present time. There was nothing with her ID wise, and so the only way we can do that is by comparing DNA. We have a number of girls, including Ann Marie, on our system who are still listed as missing from the eighties and what we’re currently doing is visiting everyone who reported someone missing back then. Where we find a family member, we are asking them to provide a mouth swab so we can cross-match the DNA.’
She returned a nod of understanding.
‘I know we talked on the phone this morning but just for the record can I confirm that you reported your sister missing back in May, nineteen-eighty-four?’
Julie nodded again.
‘And can you confirm she is still missing?’
‘I haven’t seen her since I reported her that day. I last spoke with Ann Marie on Saturday the twelfth of May, nineteen-eighty-four.’ She bounced her look between Hunter and Grace. ‘I still remember most of what we talked about. It was our last conversation. I’ve never forgotten it.’ For a brief spell her look went vacant. Shaking herself from her dream-like state she said, ‘When Ann Marie first went missing, because of the type of person she’d become, and because of the people I knew she hung around with I reported her missing because I thought she might have been in an accident, or something bad had happened to her, like the last time when she was taken to hospital. But when the police told mum and me that she’d disappeared and they’d no idea where she was I just knew she’d come to some harm. And although I clung to the hope that one day she’d just turn up, as time went on, and we’d not heard from her, I somehow knew deep down that Ann Marie was dead.’ She looked at Hunter. ‘You could say I’ve been expecting this.’
Out the corner of his eye Hunter could see Grace had begun taking notes. ‘As I said earlier Julie, we don’t know if it is Ann Marie, we still have other people to speak to who reported girls missing.’
‘It won’t be a shock if it is her you know.’
‘Julie, a couple of seconds ago I picked up on something you said about expecting to hear that Ann Marie had been taken to hospital. You said ‘like the last time’. What did you mean by that?’
She pointed to Hunter’s clip folder. ‘Ann Marie left home not long after that photograph was taken – a big bust up. Three months later the police came to our house and told me and mum that she was in hospital. She’d been beaten up. The police told us she’d been found unconscious in an alley.’ She glanced between Hunter and Grace again. ‘That was when we also found out the life she was living. You know she was on the streets don’t you?’
Hunter dipped his head in affirmation. ‘We’ve got it recorded that Ann Marie received a police caution for prostitution.’
‘That was down to that boyfriend of hers. Jamie bloody Baxter. Waster of this parish.’ She spat out. ‘She met him a just few months before that photo was taken. You can see how attractive she was. She had lots of lads fancying her but for reasons best known to her she took up with Jamie. Mum warned her about him but she took no notice and the next thing we knew she was taking drugs. We found out Jamie was a dealer. He used to push stuff at soul nights you know. Wigan Casino and all that. He ended up getting arrested eventually but not before he’d damaged Ann Marie.’
‘Sorry to hear that Julie.’ Hunter saw that her neck had turned blotchy. He thought it to be a sign that she was getting agitated. ‘I know this is uncomfortable for you but we need to know a few things about Ann Marie.’ He paused to give her some breathing space before saying, ‘Tell me about the time she was in hospital. Do you know exactly what happened to her?’
‘Only that the police said they’d found her unconscious and that she’d been beaten up. They asked if we had any idea who might have done it because apparently she’d refused to tell them what had happened. We gave them Jamie’s name and I know they questioned him but it never came to anything. Me and mum went to see her in the hospital. She was in a right state. We’d tried to get her to tell us who’d attacked her but she just kept telling us she didn’t know. Mum got a bit angry with her over it.’
‘Do you remember the injuries she had?’
She thought for the briefest of spells before answering, ‘A couple of broken ribs and a broken wrist. She had a black eye as well.’
Hunter quickly exchanged glances with Grace. He could see in his partner’s eyes that like he, she was registering that their victim had the same injuries. Goose bumps rippled his skin. He said, ‘Can you tell us, if it’s not too difficult, a bit about Ann Marie’s background? I’m afraid we’ve only got the most basic of details about her on our computer.’
Julie Adamson’s mouth tightened and she slowly shook her head. ‘It’s a good job mum’s how she is you know. This would probably see her off.’ She stared at them a moment and added, ‘Mum’s in a care home. She’s got dementia. Doesn’t even know me now. Talks about Ann Marie going missing all the time, as if it was just yesterday, bless her.’
‘And your dad?’ asked Grace.
‘Dad’s dead. He died a long time ago before all this happened. I was only eight. It was an accident at work. He was electrocuted by a faulty machine. Mum brought us up on her own. Struggled at times. That’s why I sometimes get so bloody angry when Ann Marie’s name comes up. I think about all she put mum through when she knew how hard it was for her.’
‘I’m sorry to put you through this,’ said Hunter, ‘But could you tell us a bit about Ann Marie, so we can get a picture of her.’
Julie Adamson huffed. ‘Do you know why I get angry?’ She didn’t wait for a response. ‘It’s because I know what she was once like – before that Jamie walked into her life and got her into drugs. Don’t get me wrong neither of us were angels, but I would never have thought Ann Marie would end up being the person she was. We were so close, right up to her being seventeen. There’s only two years between us. Ann Marie was a bit of a tomboy compared to me. I was the one who played inside with dolls while she’d sooner be out
climbing trees. When we were in our early teens we were inseparable, but then I started work at Woolworth’s and that’s when she started seeing Jamie Baxter. I knew a bit about him from school. I remember him being this lad from a rough family who was always getting into scrapes – fighting. And he was also a bit of a bully. But the drugs thing we didn’t know about until he’d got his hooks in her and then it was too late. Don’t get me wrong mum did her best once she found out and tried to get Ann Marie to finish with him. To appease us she told us she had, but she hadn’t, she was seeing him behind our backs.’
‘So things got strained between you?’
‘Once she got in with Jamie we didn’t recognise her. I kept having a go at her to dump him and she kept promising she would but she kept saying that it was hard because she loved him. I got on to her about the drugs and she just said they were only uppers and that they were harmless. It was so frustrating. Even I couldn’t get through to her.’ She glanced up to the ceiling for a few seconds. Then, returning her gaze said, ‘She got worse. She stole money from me you know. I caught her. We had this blazing row and mum got involved and told her she had enough to put up with, without what she was doing, and that’s when Ann Marie stormed out. She moved into a flat with Jamie. She was eighteen.’ She broke off, rubbing her face with her hands. After a few seconds of silence she continued. ‘It wasn’t the same after that between me and her. I bumped into her a couple of times in the High Street and she used to come into Woolworth’s and ask to borrow money, but I knew what it was going to and so I said I couldn’t. She used to kick off in the store and she was ejected by the manager on quite a few occasions. I lost my job because of her.’
‘I’m sorry to put it like this Julie, but do you think that’s how Ann Marie got into prostitution then?’ asked Hunter.
She nodded. ‘It was a few years after she left home. Or at least I think it was. She split up from Jamie when she was nineteen. He went to prison after he was caught breaking into a chemist, which was no surprise, and Ann Marie couldn’t afford the rent so the landlord kicked her out. She came back home, and asked mum if she could have her room back and that she’d change. Mum took her back and she repaid her by stealing from her purse.’ She shook her head in disgust. ‘We both had a go at her and mum told her to get out. I’ve never seen mum so angry. The next I heard of Ann Marie was about six months later. A couple of mates in the pub said that they’d bumped into Ann Marie, and they told me that they barely recognised her. That she looked a bit of a wreck. She’d apparently tried to cadge some money off them and told them that she was sharing a flat with a girl in Chapeltown. And then I got the phone call from her that night when she was locked up. “Could I come and collect her” she said, she’d “got no money for a taxi.” That was when I found out she’d got herself arrested for prostitution. I was mortified. I was so bloody embarrassed when I walked into that police station, I can tell you. When I asked for Ann Marie, the officer on the desk looked at me as if I was something on the bottom of his shoe. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. And when I saw her for myself I couldn’t believe she was the same person. She was nothing like the Ann Marie I knew. She’d lost weight. She looked like someone from Belsen.’ She paused, then said, ‘To be honest she did look like a prostitute. I never told mum. I daren’t.’
‘Did you take her back to her flat that night?’
‘I did, but I didn’t go in. It looked a bit of a dump to be honest. It was above some shops. I just dropped her off and drove off. I was so annoyed with her. Afterwards I felt so guilty – as though I was somehow to blame for what she’d become. I thought I should have tried to help her.’
‘You shouldn’t have felt guilty,’ interjected Grace. ‘She was nineteen. Grown up. It was nothing to do with you what she’d become. You’ve said yourself what she used to be like when she was younger. If you need to blame anyone blame Jamie Baxter.’
Julie Adamson nodded. ‘Yes I guess so. I know what you’re saying, but I couldn’t help thinking at the time.’
Hunter jumped back in. ‘Just going back Julie, it says on our system that you reported Ann Marie missing in May, nineteen-eighty-four. Her arrest for prostitution was six months before that. Did you keep in touch with one another?’
She nodded. ‘Strangely enough we did. A couple of days after her arrest I came out of work and she was waiting for me. I’d got a job as a care assistant with the council and she came to the home where I was working. She said she wanted to apologise to me and said she’d done it because she had no other means of making money. We started to keep in touch after that. Not regular as such, but certainly a couple of times a month, she’d either meet me when I’d finished work or we’d meet up at a pub and I’d buy her a couple of lagers.’
‘Did you ever talk about what she was up to?’
‘If you mean did I ask her directly if she was still working the streets, the answer’s no, but we did talk sort of indirectly. I mentioned once that I felt afraid for her – that I thought it was dangerous what she was doing. She just laughed and told me not to worry. She said her flat mate looked after her and that they mostly worked together, that sort of thing. I did ask her once about the drugs – if she was still on them? She said she was trying to get herself off. She was in a programme. She begged me not to give her a hard time so I didn’t ask her anymore.’
‘So what about her going missing?’
‘Well, as I said earlier, the last time I talked to her was Saturday the twelfth of May, eighty-four. She used the phone in the hallway at the back of the shop where her flat was. I normally rang her but I remembered this because she rang me. It was about half six time. She sounded excited. She said she’d met someone, and that he was nice and he was going to get her a job. I said that was good news. She said she was going out with him that night. He was picking her up in his van. To be honest, I wasn’t sure that what she was telling me was the truth and she must have sensed it because she burst out laughing and said, “Honest Julie, it’s not like that. He’s nice. He’s not a punter or anything like that. We’re going for a drink and talk about a job.” That was basically it. She said she’d give me a ring the next day and tell me how it went. Then she said bye, and hung up.’
‘Did she tell you his name?’
Julie shook her head, ‘No, she never mentioned it. She was only on about a minute. She was excited. She just wanted to tell me the good news.’
‘You said that Ann Marie said he was picking her up in his van? You’re sure he said van?’
‘Definitely, because I can remember thinking the van must be something to do with his job.’
Hunter thought about the piece of carpet they had found with their victim. Duncan Wroe, the crime scene manager, had said that he was certain the carpet had come from the back of a van. Things seemed to be slotting nicely into place. This was too much of a coincidence. ‘But she never rang?’
‘No. I rang the flat on Sunday evening. There was no answer for ages and then her flat mate answered and I asked to speak with Ann Marie. She said she wasn’t there. I asked her what she meant. She said she’d last seen her the previous evening – that a guy had come and picked her up and that they’d gone out for the night and she hadn’t come home yet. I asked if she knew where she was but she said she’d no idea. Ann Marie hadn’t told her where they were going. I told her I was worried, and Lesley – that was her flat mate – said for me not to be, that the man seemed nice. She said that as soon as Anne Marie came in she’d tell her to give me a ring. She didn’t, so I rang the flat again but there was no answer so I tried the next day and that’s when I spoke with the man who owned the shop who was also their landlord. I told him I was Ann Marie’s sister and that I was trying to get hold of her. He said he’d not seen her Saturday afternoon and he wished he knew where she was because she owed him rent. I asked him if I could speak with Lesley instead and that’s when he told me he’d not seen either of them since Saturday evening when he’d locked up. The shop was
always shut on Sunday’s. I asked him if he could check their flat and he said he’d already been banging on their door that morning, because they owed two months’ rent, but they weren’t answering. He said if he didn’t get their money by the end of that day he was kicking them out and then he hung up. I rang again that Monday evening but no answer and that’s when I went around to the flat the next day. I spoke with the owner and he told me that the pair had done a runner, owing him two months’ rent and that he’d bagged up their stuff. He said he was keeping it and they couldn’t have it until they paid up. I told him this wasn’t like Ann Marie and that I was worried. He just kept saying they owed him money and they’d done a runner. He said I had to tell him when she got in touch or there’d be trouble.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘I asked if I could see the flat. He said there was nothing to see. He’d bagged everything up. I insisted and said I was ringing the police and so he let me have a look upstairs.’
‘And?’
‘It was as he said – nothing to see. Apparently he’d tidied up the place and bagged up their bedding and clothes. I called the police and they asked me if I could go to the station to make my report. I did so and spoke with a PC Townsend. When I told them him about what I knew and what the shop keeper had done with Ann Marie’s stuff he sided with him and just suggested that Ann Marie had gone because she owed money and that she’d turn up. He also asked me if I knew they were both prostitutes. I was so angry. I asked him what that had to do with me reporting my sister missing. I think I embarrassed him and he promised he’d do some enquiries and get back to me.’
‘And did he?’
‘To be fair he did. A couple of days later. He still thought there was nothing serious about Ann Marie’s disappearance or Lesley’s. He thought they were lying low because they owed money and that they’d turn up. He said Lesley was well known to them and that they were doing patrols in the area where she worked.’
Shadow of the Beast Page 8
