‘Did you speak to her?’
‘No. Left her to it. She was filling a kettle with water from the stream, so I thought she probably had a stove and knew what she was doing. Besides, I couldn’t see any smoke coming from up here.’
‘And it wasn’t this woman?’ Kate showed him the photograph again.
‘Could have been,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I didn’t get a close look. She had long hair, tied back. Hard to see what colour because she was in the shadow next to the bridge.’
Kate thanked him and trudged back to the car leaving the ranger kicking over the stones and scuffing through the ashes to make sure there was no danger from the remains of the campfires.
‘It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air,’ Kate snapped as Hollis used the remote to unlock the car. ‘If it was her last night then we’ve missed her by a few hours. It’s so bloody–’
Her phone rang, interrupting her complaint. ‘DI Fletcher? This is Staff Nurse Helen Ford, I was told to contact you if there was any change in Anastasia Cohen’s condition.’
Kate released the breath she’d been holding since she’d heard the word ‘nurse’, fearing the worst for O’Connor. ‘Go on.’
‘Anastasia has regained consciousness. I haven’t been able to contact her ex-husband, but her sister’s on her way.’
‘Her sister?’
‘She came to visit after the accident. Left her mobile number and instructions to call if anything changed–’
Kate didn’t hear anything else the woman said. ‘We need to get to the DRI!’ she shouted at Hollis. ‘I know where Sadie Sullivan is.’
40
Kate spent part of the drive to Doncaster desperately trying to organise protection for Anna Cohen. She spoke to Helen Ford and told her that she wasn’t to allow any visitors access to the unit until the police arrived. She’d also asked for Anna’s “sister’s” number but when she dialled it there was no answer – she suspected another burner phone. She just hoped they weren’t too late and that somebody could stop Sadie before she gained access to Anna’s room.
Doncaster Royal Infirmary was a bleak, sprawling mass of concrete and tiny windows. Kate knew where the intensive therapy unit was but she needed the fastest route to the ward where Anastasia Cohen was being treated. She checked online and found a map of the hospital.
‘East car park,’ she told Hollis. ‘Don’t worry about finding a space, just dump me as close to the doors as you can get. And then get parked. I’ll text you when I know what’s happening.’
She hadn’t asked for the ward to be guarded because it was already secure. Entrance to the ITU was strictly controlled because of the risk of infection to the patients who were constantly monitored. But if Anna was conscious, that protocol would probably be relaxed.
As soon as Hollis stopped the car, Kate leapt out and plunged into the lobby of the eastern wing of the hospital. Last time she’d been here she’d approached from a different corridor and she was momentarily confused by the signs and the different coloured lines on the floor. She stopped and took a second to get her bearings then shot through a set of double doors and up a flight of stairs to the ICU.
‘Anna Cohen,’ she gasped as she reached the reception desk. ‘Which room?’
The nurse on duty took a step back and glanced from left to right as though looking for backup.
‘I’m a police officer,’ Kate said, fumbling her ID out of her jacket pocket. ‘I’ve spoken to Helen Ford this morning. One of my colleagues should already be here.’
The woman looked at her blankly. ‘There’s only nursing staff here. No police. Anastasia’s in room six.’ She pointed to the left and Kate nodded her thanks. They hadn’t moved Anna yet which might mean that she was still under close observation.
‘She hasn’t had any visitors today?’
The nurse tapped her tablet. ‘Hang on, let me check. I’ve just come on shift. No. Nobody’s been in to see her today. She regained consciousness nearly four hours ago. Family was informed. She’s still disorientated and suffering some amnesia due to the trauma. The specialist is optimistic that it may only be temporary.’
Kate hunched over, hands on her knees and sucked in as much breath as she could manage. She should have let Hollis do the running and she should have driven the car. ‘I really am getting too old for this,’ she mumbled.
‘Sorry?’
She straightened up and smiled at the nurse. ‘I said I’m getting too old for running up flights of stairs. I left my much younger colleague parking the car.’
‘Looks like he’s here now,’ the woman said, nodding towards the door. Kate turned to see a uniformed officer she didn’t recognise.
‘Where’ve you been?’ Kate snapped. ‘I asked for somebody to be here over an hour ago.’
The man blushed a deep and unflattering pink which clashed with his strawberry-blond hair and pale-grey eyes. ‘Sorry, ma’am. I only got the call half an hour ago and parking’s–’
Kate held up a hand to shut him up. ‘Oh well, you’re here now. And don’t call me ma’am, I’m DI Fletcher.’
The blush deepened as he nodded.
‘Name?’
‘Redgrave.’
‘Right, Redgrave. Stay here and don’t let anybody in who doesn’t work here or isn’t one of us.’
She turned to the nurse. ‘Am I okay to see Anna Cohen?’
The nurse nodded. ‘Five minutes. As I said, she doesn’t remember anything about what happened to her.’
She might, thought Kate, with a bit of gentle prompting.
Anna Cohen was lying in bed and looked much as she had when Kate had first visited, eyes closed, breathing regular. A doctor was doing something with one of the IV lines, her back to Kate.
‘Is she awake?’ Kate asked. ‘I need to ask her some questions.’
The doctor turned at the sound of her voice and Kate froze.
She was looking straight into the eyes of Sadie Sullivan.
41
‘Does this look like her?’ Cooper asked, tilting her monitor so Barratt could see the still image from the CCTV footage.
‘Who?’
Sam sighed. She knew Matt had been busy trying to trace Sadie’s contacts, but he should have known who she was talking about.
‘Sadie Sullivan. Is this her?’
Barratt stood up and moved closer for a better look. He reached out to tap Sam’s keyboard but she slapped his hand away. Nobody touched her computers without an invitation.
‘Zoom in,’ Barratt instructed.
The black-and-white image showed a dark-haired woman wheeling a bike through a crowd of people.
‘Where’s this?’ he asked.
‘Zebra crossing between Sheffield railway and bus stations. I know Kate and Dan think she might have headed out to the Peak and I thought, if she had her bike, she would have probably used the train to get to Sheffield. The bike looks like it’s got panniers on the back. Perfect for camping.’
‘Could be her. When’s it from?’
‘The day after Anna Cohen was pushed off the bridge. We know she has an electric bike. If she’s got a decent battery, she’d have no trouble getting to Burbage Rocks and back – probably three times over if she’s fit and doesn’t use the assistance.’
Barratt was staring at her, eyes wide. ‘How do you know shit like that?’
Sam rolled her eyes at him. ‘Internet.’ She was about to give him a lecture on the joys of disappearing down a rabbit hole of fascinating information when her email icon flashed across the screen. Three quick taps and she was staring at more files of CCTV footage.
‘Where’s that?’ Barratt asked. ‘It looks like it’s later in the day.’
‘Car park of the Dog and Gun. Kate asked the company to send over footage from the night we think Sadie met Anna. Hang on.’
She played the footage at four times normal speed, narrowing her eyes so she could concentrate on the cars slowing down to park.
‘There!’ She spo
tted Anna Cohen’s Audi. ‘Thank you, Anna.’ The woman had parked within view of the camera. Sam watched as she got out, hitched her handbag higher on her shoulder and walked out of shot, presumably to the pub entrance. Her shadow grew longer as she left the camera’s field of vision and then it disappeared. Sam checked the timestamp. Just after half past eight. Assuming they’d stayed in the pub long enough to have at least two or three drinks, she fast-forwarded two hours. The car was still there. Sam sped up the footage slightly and watched as the clock in the corner got to eleven, then ten past.
‘Here’s Anna,’ she breathed. ‘Oh, and here’s her friend.’ She pressed pause and turned to Barratt. The image on the screen clearly showed Sadie Sullivan sitting in the passenger seat of Anna Cohen’s car.
‘Sadie Sullivan got in the car with Anna! Look what she’s carrying. A bloody bike helmet. She must have left her bike at the pub and come back for it. Maybe she convinced Anna to give her a lift home and lied about the route.’
Barratt leaned closer, grinning. ‘This is fantastic! We’ve got her. She was the last person to see Anna Cohen alive – this’ll take some wriggling out of. Can we see if she comes back on foot later, or see if she leaves the car park on her bike?’
Sam thought for a second, calculating the possible time frame she’d need. She sped forward, watching as Sadie closed the passenger side door and the car left the car park. At around the time when Anna had fallen off the bridge she slowed the footage slightly. ‘Let’s see…’
They watched the empty car park as the minutes ticked towards 2am, then 3am.
‘What’s that?’
A shadow cast by the security lights in the car park. A black shape on lighter tarmac. It looked like a person, but it was hard to be sure of the detail. They watched as it disappeared and then reappeared but in a slightly different form. There was something else, an extension to the blackness of the shadow. A tiny spark of light off something metal.
‘What the hell’s that?’ Barratt asked.
Sam grabbed a still and enlarged it slowly until it lost definition in a mess of grey pixels.
‘Hang on.’ She uploaded it into her image-enhancing software. ‘Shit. Can you see that?’
Barratt turned to her with a huge grin. ‘It’s the handlebar of a bike. Looks like somebody was pushing it using the centre post. It’s her. It’s got to be. She left with Anna then came back for her bike. It’s enough to arrest her, it has to be. We should let Kate know. And keep looking at the Sheffield footage. If she got there by train she might have gone back to the station. If we can find out what time she left Sheffield we might be able to trace her movements. Work out which train she took.’
Sam grabbed her phone and scrolled to Kate’s number. She turned to grin at Barratt as she put the device to her ear, listening impatiently to the ringtone before the voicemail kicked in.
‘No answer.’
She tried again intending to leave a message. This time the phone was engaged.
‘Kate. It’s Sam. Give me a call. I’ve found something interesting on the CCTV from the pub.’
The phone rang just as she put it back down on her desk. Hollis.
‘Dan. I was just trying to get in touch with Kate.’
‘Me too. She’s not answering. We’re at the DRI. Sadie might have been posing as Anna’s sister to gain access to her. Kate went up to ICU to make sure she’s not managed to get in to visit Anna, but I’ve not heard from her since. I’ll see if I can find a number for the ward.’
He hung up but not before Sam had identified the emotion in his voice. Dan Hollis was on the verge of panic. Something was very wrong.
42
Kate couldn’t breathe. The woman they’d been looking for was smiling at her as though she was happy to see a beloved family member.
‘DI Fletcher. What a shame you’re too late to help Taz. Or should I call her Anna? I hate to leave a job half finished.’
Sadie had something in her hand that glinted in the bright sunlight cutting through the window blinds. Kate couldn’t make out what it was, until Sadie took a step towards her and she realised it was a hypodermic syringe. Automatically ducking out of the way as Sadie took another step towards her with the syringe held out like a weapon, Kate lunged towards the bed, her instincts screaming at her to check on the pathetic figure beneath the sheets. It was a trick. Sadie had bargained on Kate’s training kicking in, urging her to protect life and Kate had done exactly what was expected of her.
‘Shit!’ Kate hissed as the other woman barged past her and out into the corridor. She couldn’t tell if Anna Cohen was alive but there was nothing she could do either way. She followed Sadie out into the corridor shouting to the startled nurse.
‘Check on Anna Cohen! She might have been injected with something!’
The corridor outside the ITU was around fifty yards long with doors leading off on either side but Sadie had obviously decided that flight was a better option then hiding. Kate saw her crash through the doors to the stairway and turn left. Up.
Aware that her phone was ringing, Kate hit the double doors at speed, using them to slow her momentum long enough for her to turn up the first flight of stairs. Chest heaving, she used the bannister to steady herself as she turned a corner and realised that there wasn’t another floor above her. The only way out was onto the roof of the building. Four floors above the car park.
Her phone was ringing again but she ignored it, slowing as she approached a grey metal door that stood slightly ajar. If Sadie was waiting to ambush her on the other side, there was nothing she could do to prevent herself being pushed back down the stairs. If Sadie was waiting. What the hell was the woman thinking running out onto the roof?
Struggling to catch her breath, Kate fumbled her phone from her pocket, dialled Hollis’s number and turned down the sound. He’d be able to hear her but, if he spoke, Kate, and more importantly Sadie, wouldn’t hear him.
‘Dan. I won’t be able to hear you,’ she explained, hoping he was listening and not trying to talk over her. ‘Sadie Sullivan’s here. She’s on the roof and I’m following. Text Barratt or Cooper for backup but keep this line open. I need you to be able to hear what’s going on and to respond. I have no idea what she’ll do.’ She removed her suit jacket, screwed it up and tossed it down to the landing before slipping her phone into the top pocket of her blouse and taking a step closer to the door.
There was a gap of about three inches between the metal and the frame, but all Kate could see was a thin strip of roof covered in thick felt. No sign of Sadie. She could wait until others arrived. She hoped her mention of the roof meant that Dan had told Barratt or Cooper to alert the fire brigade and ambulance as well as the police. Was that Sadie’s plan? To jump?
Kate took another step. She couldn’t accept that. Sadie Sullivan needed to be caught and to face justice. There was only one way that was going to happen.
The door opened soundlessly, and Kate stepped out into the full heat of the afternoon sun. No sign of Sadie. Where the hell was she?
Off to her left was a high metal dome with a grille in one side that Kate assumed was a vent of some kind. It was easily big enough for a grown woman to hide behind. Taking a deep breath, Kate tiptoed closer and then, in one fluid movement, stepped round to the other side.
No ambush. Instead, Kate saw that Sadie was sitting on the raised lip that ran all the way round the section of roof they were on. It was about two feet high and built from concrete topped with a row of red bricks. There was no safety rail, no barriers, nothing to stop a determined person from tumbling off. All Sadie had to do was lean backwards.
‘Sadie!’ Kate shouted. ‘Come down. It’s finished.’
The woman gave Kate a lazy smile. ‘Not yet, it isn’t. I’m still here. This was always the plan, didn’t you see that?’
There was a sense of symmetry to the idea of Sadie killing herself after the methods she’d chosen for murder, but it all felt a little theatrical. Kate wasn’t convinced.
‘You don’t need to do this,’ she said, holding her hands out at waist height in what she hoped was a non-threatening gesture of openness. ‘We can talk.’
The other woman laughed. ‘What about? Nice day, isn’t it? Got any holidays planned?’
‘You don’t really want to do this.’ Kate took a step closer. She’d done some training in negotiation, but her mind was blank – she had no strategy beyond somehow stopping Sadie from falling to her death.
‘Of course I do.’
‘Why?’ Kate asked.
‘Why?’
‘Why did you kill those women? And Peter Houghton? What was it all about?’
Sadie sighed and rested both palms on the wall, either side of her lap. A light breeze flicked a few strands of hair onto her face and she tossed her head to dislodge them.
‘They deserved it,’ she said simply.
‘Why?’
‘They were liars. Except Houghton. He was just… what’s the phrase… collateral damage? Wrong place, wrong time.’
Kate tried to remember what she’d pieced together about what Sadie might have experienced at Greenham. How had these people been dishonest? What had they told her?
‘Do you know what it was like, growing up with that kind of pressure?’ Sadie asked. ‘I questioned everything I did, everything I thought, everything I bought. I was never good enough, never deserving, never worthy of the future that those women wanted for me.’
Kate kept quiet. She could see that Sadie was lost in memories, trying to tell her story in a way that would make sense. She took a step closer as Sadie’s eyes drifted across the Doncaster skyline.
Shattered: a gripping crime thriller Page 23
