Page 4

THREE

Stomach still churning as she drove, Gina knew she had to call her ex-mother-in-law, Hetty, to see if she could speak to Stephen on her behalf. She couldn’t go on like this. Maybe she could ask her to tell her son to butt out of her life.

‘Hello?’ a woman said.

‘Can I speak to Hetty, please?’

‘I’m sorry, that’s not possible.’

‘Not possible?’

‘Sorry, are you a friend? I’m her carer.’

‘Err…’ What was she? Definitely not a friend. ‘I’m her ex-daughter-in-law.’

‘I’m sorry to tell you that Hetty had a stroke. She’s asleep at the moment. Plans are underway to transfer her to a home.’

‘Is Stephen there?’ The urge to heave was strong. The last thing she wanted was to ever have to speak to Stephen again, but she had to find a way of closing down this online harassment without involving Briggs.

‘Her son?’

‘Yes,’ Gina replied.

‘I’m afraid not. Do you know where he is? She could really do with the support of a relative. Are you two close?’

‘No.’ Gina hung up. Stephen was out there somewhere and Hetty was in no position to tell him to back off.

As Gina pulled up at the crime scene, she spotted the forensics van and two police cars. Jacob had parked behind them. She stepped out onto the roadside and hurried up to where PC Smith was guarding the outer cordon. A traffic officer gestured for the stream of rubbernecking drivers to hurry along. She half-jogged up the hill, trudging through the long grass that led to the damaged gate. As she stared down, she saw the small blue Fiesta parked alongside the woodland. Bernard was already togged up, as were his three assistants. One of them was taking photos and filming while the others were placing crime scene markers at the scene.

‘Alright, guv,’ PC Smith said as he held the crime scene log out for her to sign.

She took the pen and Jacob came running over, all togged up. ‘Here’s a crime scene suit.’ He passed her the bag and she began to put it on by the roadside. She pulled the white coverall over her black trousers and sage-green blouse before zipping it up. Then she slipped on her boot covers and mask.

PC Smith moved out of the way, allowing her onto the scene. Bernard held a hand up. ‘I’ll just be a moment,’ he called out, before turning around to speak to his assistants again.

‘Any further developments since we spoke?’ she asked Jacob.

He shook his head. ‘I haven’t managed to speak to anyone yet. The boot was opened by the officers who attended first.’

With a note like that, Gina wasn’t surprised. ‘No one else in the car?’

‘Nope. The boot was empty, except for an old jacket that looked to be about the same size that the man would wear. It’s already been bagged up, along with the library books and a few other things.’

‘Has anyone tried to contact the library? The books might lead us to the girl’s identity.’

‘I tried, but it’s too early. It’s not open for another half an hour and the emergency number didn’t help, either.’

‘After we’ve finished here we’ll head to the library. It should be open by then.’ She checked her watch.

‘DI Harte.’ Bernard waved them over.

She led the way. ‘Can you talk me through what you have so far?’

He nodded and leaned over her with his lanky frame, his grey beard neatly tucked into his beard cover. ‘As always, we have a long way to go, but follow me and stay on the stepping plates. As you can see from the markers, we have all sorts. Litter, cigarette butts, so many bags of rubbish. We’ll take it all in and sort through it later. As for the man, it’s looking like he died by suicide. He hasn’t been moved post-mortem. We have an initial suicide attempt that didn’t work: it looks like he cut his wrist with a pocket knife and used the sheet to clean himself up. The cut definitely didn’t kill him. The cause of death is looking likely to be carbon monoxide poisoning, but we need to confirm that in the post-mortem.’

‘Time of death?’

‘I would say between ten and twelve hours ago.’

Gina lifted her crime scene suit at her wrist to see the time. It was nearly nine in the morning. ‘So, between nine and eleven yesterday evening?’

Bernard frowned, creasing the lines on his forehead. ‘To be on the safe side, make it between eight and midnight.’

‘Have you managed to search the whole car yet?’

Bernard shook his head. ‘Not yet. As you can see, the team are on it, so if there is more to find, we’ll find it. We’ve yet to check under the seat, under the car mats and under the spare wheel. Then there are all the panels. We’ll strip those out when the car is taken to the compound.’

She followed Bernard, clunking on the metal plates until they reached the vehicle. Glancing through the open driver’s door, she took a deep breath. The man’s reddish lips definitely suggested carbon monoxide poisoning. His checked shirt came apart where his belly had forced the buttons at the bottom, and his grey-threaded dark hair had been slicked back with some strong gel. ‘Has an officer scanned his fingerprints with a portable scanner?’

Nodding, Bernard stepped a little closer. ‘Yes.’

‘If he’s on our system, we should be able to identify him. Jacob?’ She turned to her colleague. ‘Could you quickly call PC Smith and get an update on that?’

Jacob pulled out his phone and stepped to the side.

Gina glanced ahead at the woodland, imagining what it would have looked like the previous night. It had been cloudy, so he would have probably arrived in darkness, even if he had arrived at eight. It wasn’t a busy road at that time so he could have easily parked in the field without a single person seeing him. She pictured him with the interior light on in the car as he struggled to cut his wrists, and she shuddered at the thought.

‘Bernard, you say he tried to slash his wrists with a pocket knife. Do you have the knife?’

‘Yes. It’s a small flick knife. The blade is only one and a half inches long and it’s not particularly sharp.’

‘Have you found a phone?’

‘Not yet.’

She continued to play out the scenario in her head. He knew he might not be able to go through with cutting his wrists. He’d come prepared with the hose. One thing was for sure, he had been determined to end his life.

Jacob began walking back towards her.

‘Any news on his identity?’

He shook his head. ‘He’s not on our system.’

She scrunched her brows. ‘Great. Let’s hope the library can help, then.’

One of the CSIs waved a hand towards them and called Bernard over. Gina and Jacob waited in silence as she saw the two of them talking. ‘What is it?’ Gina asked as Bernard began walking back.

‘We’ve found a phone. Isobel is just bagging it.’

‘We need to take a look.’ She hoped it hadn’t run out of battery.

Bernard took it off the young female CSI and passed it to Gina in the clear bag. As soon as she saw that it was a burner phone, her shoulders dropped. There would be no social media accounts or internet history on that phone. She turned it on and hoped that it would come to life, and to her surprise, it did. She began scrolling and she could instantly see that it had been completely wiped of everything.

The CSI waved her arm again. ‘We have something else.’

Gina followed Bernard and they watched as Isobel pulled at something that had been secreted in the car seat upholstery.

‘It’s a photo.’ The CSI placed it in a bag and passed it to Gina to look at.

Gina couldn’t tell if the photo was old or new. There was nothing showing that could help her date it. The girl was looking down, her brown, straggly hair almost covering her whole face and the crack on her lip looked raw. There was some brown pigmentation on her left porcelain-white cheek that looked like a birthmark. Her thumbnail balanced gently between her two front teeth, behind a smile that looked forced. On the magnolia back wall, Gina could see a shadow that didn’t belong to the girl.

It was broad and imposing. Was it the man in the car? Who was she to him, and was she the one who needed saving?

There was a sketch pad on the mattress and a nearly finished drawing. The lines were perfectly formed. It was of a girl clutching a red scarf. Squinting, Gina spotted an actual red scarf with a cupcake design poking out underneath the girl’s bottom.

Gina turned over the photo and written in the bottom right-hand corner, in scrawled capital letters, was one word: SORRY .

She passed it to Jacob. ‘Can you take a photo and message it back to the incident room straight away?’

He took it from her. ‘It’s a shame we can’t properly see her face, guv.’

A part of her knew that the man in the car had left them no real clues. ‘In his note he claims to be sorry. He even wrote it on the back of the photo. He also tells us to save her, but the note is scrawled which doesn’t give us a lot to go with. Why? Whoever she is, she’s out there somewhere, and look at her…’ Gina swallowed.

She knew what someone in captivity looked like and that girl in the photo screamed captive.

‘He has left her somewhere.’ Gina’s heart began to pound. ‘And if we don’t find her, she will die.’