Gina leaned in for a closer look. The photo was almost too grainy to see but the features matched their victim. The distance between the eyes and the length of the nose were a giveaway as was his ever so slight hunch where he leaned a little to the right. ‘You said someone else was with him, a woman?’
‘She came later. I was upstairs tidying the bedroom when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I was already on alert as I was on watch that evening, so I had no television or music on. Once I spotted him, I turned off the light and continued watching. I was hoping to catch him at something illegal so I could call you lot. At first, I thought drugs. He wasn’t carrying any rubbish and he was lurking around, walking up and down as if he was waiting for someone. I took the photo quickly and hurried downstairs. I thought that if I went in the garden, I might hear something.’
‘And did you?’
She nodded. ‘I gently opened the door. My back gate was locked. I have several locks on it, so I wasn’t worried about him coming in and attacking me. As I opened the door, I could hear him shouting. A woman spoke back in a hushed voice, but I couldn’t work out what she was saying. He was shouting, “Stay away from me you stalking bitch.”’ She pulled a notebook from the side and flicked through a few pages. ‘I know these to be the words I heard as I wrote them down at the time. There was a bit of shuffling and murmuring then my fence rattled and I heard the man scream in pain before the woman ran off. I hurried back inside, ran up the stairs. I was about to call you lot, then I saw him staggering in the direction of the high street. This happens a lot around here. There are always people arguing when the pubs close or when they’re drinking, or taking drugs. We – the residents – have reported this on many occasions. To me, this was nothing unusual and the man went so I didn’t call in the end.’
Gina could understand. She knew that they were underfunded and understaffed. Petty crime and antisocial behaviour were becoming impossible to eradicate and as far as she could see, the underfunding was set to continue. ‘Thank you for taking such good notes. Have you seen the man before or since?’
‘No.’ She looked out of the window and scrunched her brow before looking back, revealing thick lines across her forehead. ‘Not that I can remember. I don’t think I have. If I have, I don’t remember him.’
‘What time did you see them?’
‘It was around eleven thirty that night. I’d been back from work for about an hour. Sorry I can’t be of more help.’
‘You’ve helped us a lot. Here’s my card. If you remember anything else, please call me straight away. Can you also email the photo you took?’
The woman began typing Gina’s email address into her phone as she glanced back at her card. ‘Done.’
Jacob finished scribbling a few notes before closing his notebook.
‘I really have to get to work now. I hate the twilight shift but it’s all they have available for me at the petrol station.’
‘Well, thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch if we need to ask you anything else. May we go out the back way so that we can take a look at the road?’
She nodded. The woman began unlocking the several locks that kept her back door secure. ‘Can’t be too safe around here.’ She opened the door and slightly waddled towards the back gate before opening another mass of sliding locks and padlocks. ‘Are you okay walking round the long way?’
Jacob smiled. ‘Of course. Thank you for your time.’ The woman smiled and left them with the sound of all the locks being replaced.
Gina walked up and down, taking in each rain-filled pothole and the masses of takeaway wrappers that had gathered along the line of gates. ‘“Stay away from me you stalking bitch.” Those were the last words we know of that he said and the last time that he was seen alive was eleven thirty on Tuesday. Who was he talking to? We need to find this woman and hope that he was the only person she was stalking. Wouldn’t life be easier if we knew who he was?’ Her phone beeped. ‘Email from O’Connor. We have four people registered as missing that match his description. Let’s get back.’ A knot formed in her stomach. She knew she should say something to Briggs about the letter.
A few hailstones began to bounce off the road. Gina stepped into a puddle and felt the freezing cold water seep through her boots and socks. She glanced back and imagined Al leaning against Celia Hanson’s fence while getting vociferous with the woman who was potentially stalking him. In her mind, she could see a long dark coat, face hidden by the hood. She shivered as she caught Jacob up and turned towards the light glowing from the road.
Chapter Eighteen
Penny leaned against the tree, waiting in the dark for Isaac. She knew why he’d chosen this spot to meet: it was convenient for him. She knew why he used another phone too: Joanna read all his messages. Penny never liked Isaac much and she had no doubts that he was going to enjoy telling her all about Marcus’s affair. She wanted to kick the tree. How could she have not seen the signs?
Looking back on her own fling with a colleague, she remembered how well she’d hidden it at the beginning. Marcus could be doing the same. Perhaps he was having revenge sex; her fling had damaged his ego. She remembered his face that morning as she had picked a fight over him stifling her. (He didn’t really stifle her; it was the news of his infidelity and not being able to say anything without evidence that was stifling her now.) She had shouted at him about how he always stank a little, how he never cooked and how annoying it was when he left the toilet seat up – all the squabbling couple clichés had come out. The argument had ended with the stupid dinner party. She wasn’t going and that was that.
She didn’t want to go to Cherie’s dinner party tomorrow; she hadn’t wanted to go last year, or the year before, but Marcus had made her. Never again – she was free of that commitment. It brought nothing but bad memories back.
She pulled her cardigan tighter as the air bit. The chill had her teeth chattering and her head was foggy. She hadn’t felt so cold while walking but now, she wished she’d have driven and worn more layers. Time to think, that’s what she’d thought when she decided to walk. She wasn’t going home after seeing Isaac. Marcus could stew on his own for a day or two while she checked into a budget hotel and processed what she was about to hear. It wouldn’t be the first or last time.
She reached into her cardigan pocket and pulled out her phone. It beeped three times and the light went out – battery dead. She exhaled a plume of mist and hugged herself to warm up a little.
The breeze caught a flimsy fence making it constantly creak and bang. She flinched as she reached it – their meeting point. The sound of feet dragging through the dead leaves on the ground caught her attention. ‘Isaac? I’m over here.’ With her phone now dead, she hoped he’d be able to follow her voice. In the distance the lights to the Portakabin went off and she saw the lights from a car vanish into the distance. A sense of aloneness washed over her. ‘Isaac?’
The feet stopped rustling.
She stood on her tiptoes and tried to peer into the darkness, then the feet dragging started again.
Isaac wasn’t answering. Was he enjoying the fear in her voice? ‘Isaac, stop playing games, you dick.’ She snapped her head to the right, hoping to catch him out but all she could see was the glow of a distant street light on a scurrying cat. The wind howled, circling her. It was as if the night itself could sense her foreboding. She pulled her work dress back over her knees, wishing that she’d just worn her jeans and a jumper. At least she’d worn her boots.
A dog barked in one of the distant fields, then the dragging noise came again. ‘Isaac, stop it.’ Turning, she caught sight of red and blue in the sky followed by a bang as the firework exploded. The dragging sound was getting closer and her breath quickened. As she went to turn, she saw the figure of someone wearing a long dark coat, their features blending in with the darkness. A prick in her neck caught her by surprise, then she was being dragged backwards, her attacker’s hands clasped over her mouth.
She tried to shout, gasp for air, scream, kick, but her body was weighing her down. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to open her mouth to bite the palm of her attacker, but the grip was too tight. Dizzy, chest pains – she was going to die. Her body now even heavier. She watched the sky above until her senses began to deceive her. The twinkling stars began to wink and smile. She closed her eyes and succumbed to the drug that was coursing through her veins.
‘No!’ she cried, kicking out as she opened one eye. Her fist crunched on what felt like wood behind some material. She went to reach out and her finger made a cracking noise. As she tried to lift her head up, it felt as though the darkness was spinning. Nausea – no, she couldn’t be sick. She lay back down and cried out, ‘Help!’ It was no use, no one was responding. She licked her lips – salt from her tears – that’s what she could taste. How long had she been here?
