Chapter Eighteen
As Gina pulled up past the bus stop on Cleevesford High Street, she glanced up at the flats and spotted Marianne Long waiting in the communal corridor on the top floor. A soft breeze fluttered through the slightly open window and a grey cloud had formed overhead. O’Connor pulled up beside her. Jacob gave a little wave in his direction, out of the window. O’Connor stepped out of his car and got into the back of Gina’s.
Gina turned a little in the confined space so that she could address Jacob and O’Connor. ‘Right, we’re looking for any sign of someone else in Holly’s life. Remember, Ms Long has lost her daughter and I don’t want to make this any more painful for her than it has to be. We are looking for clues as to who she may have been seeing. I spoke to one of the bridesmaids and she said that Holly was acting a little strangely, that when she visited Holly wouldn’t open the door to her. This same friend said that she looked through the letterbox and saw the back of a man reflected in the hall mirror. He was wearing a blue shirt, that’s all she saw. We have not as yet managed to locate Holly’s phone or her pink tablet. For someone who is described as glued to it, by her mother, this is strange. There is a chance she left it at home. I want to find it.’
‘Got it, guv,’ Jacob replied.
‘And thanks for getting here so quickly, O’Connor. When Ms Long called, I didn’t want to put her off until later. We need to find out all we can, and fast. She doesn’t yet know that her daughter was pregnant and this is something I will need to tell her. Ready?’
They nodded. All getting out of the car, they crossed the road. Ms Long spotted them coming and hurried down, letting them in through the locked front door. Gina’s mouth watered as she inhaled the smell of frying fish in the shop underneath the flats. The High Street was built in the thirties and the building in which Holly had lived had once been a bank. Developers had used a side access door, converted the middle and top floors, leaving the bottom floor as the chip shop, which had been there for as long as Gina could remember.
‘I couldn’t go in,’ Marianne said as she led them up the stairs, keys jangling between her jittery fingers.
Gina was grateful that she hadn’t. She wanted to see exactly how Holly was living without anyone moving things. ‘No neighbour,’ Gina said, noticing that it was a tiny block with only one apartment on the top floor.
Marianne poked the key towards the hole and missed, scratching the wood on the door.
‘Shall I?’
Marianne nodded and handed the keys to Gina.
‘Ms Long, I’d like to search around your daughter’s apartment in the hope that we find something that helps the investigation. I just need your consent to do that.’
‘I want this person caught. Do whatever you need to.’
Snapping on a blue glove, Gina entered first, turning the hall light on. All the interior doors were closed. The scent of an air freshener tickled Gina’s nose, a sneeze definitely on the horizon. She walked through, followed closely by Marianne, then Jacob and O’Connor. She opened the door to the lounge where the evening light shone through the window, casting shadows from the trees on the opposite side of the road. It looked as if spooky fingers were reaching out into the apartment. Gina shivered. A slight chill in the air gave the apartment a vacant feeling, but something else was adding to this sense of unease. Everything looked so clean and perfect, pretty much like a show home. The furniture looked designer in every way. Holly was basically an accounts clerk. This brand-new-looking apartment seemed a little out of reach for someone on her wage. Maybe Gina had it wrong but something wasn’t adding up.
Every surface shone and not a fleck of dust or lint spoiled anything. Gina hurried through to the kitchen. Shiny from every angle. The smell of disinfectant and bleach was overwhelming.
‘Holly hated mess and dirt. She’d always clean things up straight away. Knowing her, she would have made sure everything was lovely to come back to after her night away.’ Marianne walked over to one of the cupboards and opened it. Every tin, plate and cup had its place. She picked up the only thing that cluttered the worktop, an opened bottle of red wine. She opened the top and winced. ‘I think this has had it.’
Gina felt a sharp pain run through her head, the need to sleep almost overwhelming her. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were in a murder victim’s apartment, she’d love nothing more than to curl up on the sofa in the other room and have a nap. Another sneeze was building up. Gina’s nose twitched before the sneeze escaped. ‘Excuse me,’ she said as she continued. As she blew her nose, she opened the bin – empty.
Gina glanced back at the wine. Would Holly have been drinking if she knew she was pregnant? They knew nothing about how Holly felt about her situation. Could the wine belong to a visitor? Possibly the man with the blue shirt? ‘Can you call Holly’s number? Maybe we’ll be able to locate her phone.’
Marianne ran her fingers over a Little Miss Sunshine apron that was pinned to the back of the kitchen door. ‘I bought this for her birthday last year.’
Jacob went to speak and Gina pressed her finger against her lips, hushing him.
Marianne left the kitchen and hurried to the one bedroom and sat on her daughter’s bed, grabbing her pillow and inhaling it. ‘She’s never coming back.’
The bedroom was just like the other rooms, perfectly clean and tidy in every way, not a thing out of place.
‘May I?’
‘Yes,’ Marianne replied.
Gina carefully opened the wardrobe a little, half hoping to find a blue shirt, or any man’s shirt, but there was nothing but women’s clothes – Gucci, Armani, labels galore. The bottom of the wardrobe was full of neat lines of women’s shoes, including a couple of pairs of Prada. She slid open the drawers, one by one, and once again, only Holly’s clothes filled them. The bathroom. If a man was staying, there would have to be some items of his.
‘Let it all out, Ms Long,’ Jacob said as he sat with the distraught woman.
Gina crept along the landing and opened the last door, the one she hoped would yield something helpful. Like the rest of the apartment, every surface gleamed. She opened the storage unit and the medicine cabinet. Prescription antidepressants, in Holly’s name. That confirmed the depressive episodes that Holly’s friend spoke of. The drawer under the sink – only Holly’s things once again. There was no sign of another person ever being here and, worst of all, no sign of her phone or tablet.
The sobbing had stopped and Gina went back into the bedroom. ‘Ms Long, we really need to find Holly’s phone. Could you please try to call her? Maybe it’s in the flat somewhere.’
‘I don’t have her mobile number. I call her on the home phone.’ Marianne looked a little confused as she paused. ‘She was meant to give it to me when she had a new phone but she never did. Time just passed and I didn’t ask again. She was always on Facebook. We messaged and FaceTimed mostly. That seemed enough.’
‘How long had she had her new phone for?’
