Кара Хантер - In the Dark

WH: Frigid cows making you beg for it. That slut Priscilla. I told her – sod off back where you came from, you evil cow.

KE: I’m sorry, Inspector, but I think he’s getting confused again. Priscilla is his dead wife.

AF: Please look at the pictures, Dr Harper. Have you ever seen either of these young women?

WH: [ rocking backwards and forwards ]

Evil cows. Spiteful little tarts.

KE: I think we’d better stop now.

***

Sent:Weds 03/05/2017, 11.35 Importance: High

From:AlanChallowCSI@ThamesValley.police.uk

To:DIAdamFawley@ThamesValley.police.uk, CID@ThamesValley.police.uk

CC: Colin.Boddie@ouh.nhs.uk

Subject: Case no JG2114/14R Gardiner, H

This is to confirm the dental records have come through. The body at Frampton Road is definitely Hannah Gardiner.

***

‘Adam? It’s Alastair Osbourne. I saw the news.’

Even though I called him first, I’ve still been dreading him phoning me back.

‘It’s her, isn’t it? Hannah Gardiner?’

‘Yes, it’s her. I’m sorry, sir.’

Some habits die hard. Like respect.

‘I assume that man Harper is the prime suspect?’ he continues. ‘UAU?’

UAU. Unless And Until. Unless and until we rule him out. Unless and until we find another suspect. Or that accomplice we still don’t know exists.

‘For now, yes.’

‘How’s Rob Gardiner holding up?’

‘As well as you’d expect. I mean, he must have been expecting this, but it will still be a shock.’

There’s a pause at the other end of the line.

‘I owe you an apology, Adam.’

‘No –’

‘I do,’ he says emphatically. ‘You were never convinced about Shore, and you wanted to widen the search beyond Wittenham. I overruled you on both. I was wrong. And now it looks like this monster has done it again –’

‘If it’s any consolation, sir, that girl could have been in Harper’s cellar long before Hannah died.’

***

Everett can hear the noise halfway down the corridor. It’s the play area at the children’s ward; toys and games and pictures in happy primary colours of elephants and giraffes and monkeys, but now the walls are running with something that for one wild and appalling moment looks like blood. The boy is in the middle of the room, screaming. One of the toy trains is in pieces and three other children are cowering behind the chairs, crying. A little girl has a cut on her cheek. A nursing assistant is on her hands and knees trying to mop up a dark red stain on the lino.

The nursing assistant looks up. ‘It’s just Ribena, honest. And I swear I only left them alone for five minutes – Jane didn’t come in today and we’re run off our feet –’

‘I suppose he’s never encountered other children before,’ says Everett. ‘He literally doesn’t know what to do with them.’

Nurse Kingsley hurries over to the girl. ‘How did Amy get this cut?’

‘I ran back in here as soon as I heard the screaming. Amy was on the floor and the boy was on top of her.’

The boy is silent now, but his face is flushed and his cheeks are covered with tears. Kingsley makes a tentative move towards him but he backs away.

‘It was a nightmare on the ward last night,’ says the nursing assistant wearily. ‘He screamed the place down for almost an hour till he got so exhausted he curled up under the bed. We tried to coax him out but he wasn’t having it. We just left him there in the end.’

Jenny shakes her head, at a loss. ‘I’ll speak to Social Services again. My heart goes out to him, it really does, but sick children need their sleep.’

The boy stares at her for a moment, then drops suddenly on to all fours and crawls away into the corner. The three women watch in silence as he smears his hand along the wall and starts to suck the congealing juice from his fingers.

‘Christ,’ says Everett after a moment. ‘Do you think that’s what he had to do?’

Jenny Kingsley glances across at her. ‘You mean, in the cellar?’

‘Think about it. The water’s running low, the walls are damp –’

The nursing assistant puts her hand to her mouth. And then, in the silence, Everett’s phone goes.

It’s a text. From Fawley.

Ask the doctors to check the boy again. Need to rule out possible sexual abuse.

***

THAMES VALLEY POLICE

Statement of Witness

Date: 25 June 2015

Name: Sarah Wall D.O.B. 13/11/66

Address: 32 Northmoor Close, Dorchester-on-Thames

Occupation: Freelance accountant

I was walking my dog on Wittenham Clumps on Wednesday morning. I go most days so I recognise most of the regulars. There were more people about than usual on a Wednesday – it was Midsummer Eve the night before so a lot of the travellers from the camp were still about. And there were quite a few other people too. Students. Some families with children. Grandparents. I remember several buggies. I headed up towards Castle Hill past a couple of joggers I recognised and another person who walks a dog like mine. We stopped for a chat. That must have been just before 9 am. Then I got a call and had to turn back so I could deal with something for a client. It was when I was going down to the road that I saw the young woman with the buggy. She was quite a long way away, with her back to me, but she had dark hair in a ponytail and a jacket that was either black or dark blue. And some sort of backpack. I didn’t see which direction she took after that. But when I walked past the car park there was definitely an orange Mini Clubman there. It was quite distinctive – the colour, I mean.

Signed: Sarah Wall

THAMES VALLEY POLICE

Statement of Witness

Date: 25 June 2015

Name: Martina Brownlee D.O.B. 9/10/95

Address: Oxford Brookes, student halls

Occupation: Student

We were up all night and I was still a bit pissed tbh but I definitely saw her. She was on the path. The kid was asleep and she was bent over him. I didn’t get close enough to talk to her, but I’m deffo sure it was her. I clocked the jacket – it’s from Zara. One of my mates has one. Not sure what time it was. Maybe 8.45?

Signed: Martina Brownlee

THAMES VALLEY POLICE

Statement of Witness

Date: 25 June 2015

Name: Henry Nash D.O.B. 22/12/51

Address: Yew Cottage, Wittenham Road, Appleford

Occupation: Teacher (retired)

I walk on Wittenham Clumps most mornings. I got there about 9.25 yesterday. There was definitely an orange Mini Clubman in the car park by then but I didn’t see it arrive. I made my way up to Castle Hill, and went round by the Poem Tree – what’s left of it. A bit further on I noticed something brightly coloured in the area they call the Money Pit. It was a child’s buggy. Green. Just sitting there, as if the parents had parked it for a moment. I waited for a few minutes but there was no one around so I came back down. I knocked at the visitor centre place and let them know what I’d seen. I only wish I’d thought to look around a bit more. I might have found that poor little boy if I had. As I was passing the car park I saw a black Jaguar had arrived and there was a man I now know to be Malcolm Jervis sitting in the back seat with the door open. He was on his mobile, shouting at someone. I kept well clear.

Signed: Henry Nash

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