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‘I’m afraid not, sir. And the state of the body is such that we clearly won’t be able to issue any sort of photo.’
He gives a smile so dry it’s a fire risk. ‘Absolutely not. Can’t have the pensioners puking in their porridge.’
He picks up his pen and starts playing with it. It’s never a good sign. ‘Let’s try for TV,’ he says eventually. ‘That’ll put the wind up proceedings. Give us the chance to reassert some common sense, if nothing else.’
Her heart sinks. She knows where this is probably going. And it’s not just common sense that’s going to be asserted.
‘Get on toBBC Points West. Joyce can liaise on my availability. Always happy to help, Marce. As you know. Always happy to help.’
***
Adam Fawley
25 July 2024
07.45
It’s my turn to do Lily’s breakfast, and she’s being particularly dithery today so I’m somewhat distracted.
‘No, sweetheart, you can’t have pancakes because they’re too messy. But there’s Coco Pops and there’s egg and soldiers –’
‘No,’ says Alex, staring at the TV. ‘We ran out of eggs. I did that soufflé, remember.’
‘OK, so just Coco Pops, then.’ I smile encouragingly at Lily. ‘YouloveCoco Pops.’
She’s looking at me, big-eyed, very unconvinced. I decide to seize the initiative and pour cereal and milk into her Winnie-the-Pooh bowl. There’s a dicey moment before she picks up the spoon, but after that I’m home and dry. Chalk that one up as a win.
‘Isn’t that the chap you met?’
I turn to Alex and focus for the first time on what she was saying. And she’s right, I do recognize the man on the screen. It’s Detective Superintendent Lawrence Kearney of South Mercia Police. I might not have got the name without the caption, but the face, definitely. He’s put on some pounds since we worked the Camilla Rowan case but that’s – what? – six years now? And then I realize I’m holding my gut in and it’s just as well Alex is still staring at the screen. The sound’s turned low but I can make out ‘members of the public’ and ‘information’.
‘They found a shallow grave with some poor woman in it,’ says Alex, nursing her tea mug against her chest. ‘They don’t know who she is, and no one’s reported her missing.’
‘How long’s she been in there, did they say?’
‘Just a few weeks, I think. Not long anyway.’
I look up to see a camera panning over woodland. Close-packed trees, looming shadows. Even in summer sunlight it looks chilly, somehow. A lonely place to be found, especially if no one’s even looking for you.
Alex sighs. ‘Another story we’ll probably never know the ending of.’
***
Importance: High
Date:Thu 25/07/2024, 9.06
From:[email protected]
To:[email protected]
Subject: Case no LBS734/14G – DNA results, rush
These just in from the lab. No DNA on the earring I’m afraid, but even a small amount of rain could have washed it off. As for the victim, she’s not in the National Database or the Missing Persons DNA Database, so she doesn’t have a criminal record and hasn’t been reported missing, though that probably doesn’t narrow your field all that much.
The same can’t be said, however, for the hair found in the duct tape.
BM