White-hot pain flashes through the back of my head and my vision blurs. I go to turn around to see who has just attacked me but it’s too late. The metal bar comes down again and the sky above begins to whirl until I fall to the ground with a sickening thud.
I failed to save Annabel and now I’m going to die.
FORTY-FIVE
As Gina drove to the boatyard, she listened to Wyre discussing their progress on the phone with O’Connor and she ended the call. The afternoon dullness left a chill in the air. ‘Have they conducted the post-mortem on Taylor?’
Wyre nodded. ‘Yes, O’Connor attended. It was confirmed that the stab wound to her neck killed her and the time at which she died was around nine. All that has done is confirm what we were told last night. They also found a trace of amphetamine on her clothing. We won’t know until all the tests come back if she was using. We know how long the tox report can take.’
Gina rolled her eyes. ‘Weeks. Too long to help us right now but it’s a link to Grant. Either she’d been using or had been close to him recently. It still puts him in the frame for her murder. He was her lover, he’s on the run and he had opportunity to take Annabel and run over Jennifer. Whittle was Taylor’s teacher when she was at Cleevesford High. Given his track record, there’s an association there. Then we have the missing boy, Omar Abidar. No sign of him and he wasn’t answering his phone. That’s three suspects and we can’t find any of them with all the resources we have.’ She swallowed. ‘It’s odd that Grant hasn’t turned up at all. His car should have shown up somewhere by now.’
‘Totally.’
‘I’m hoping that we get a leg-up on the investigation from the boatyard. We need to findFreedom. It’s still Grant’s boat. Whoever owns the boatyard would know what had happened to it.’
‘Here we are.’
Gina indicated and pulled into the boatyard. There looked to be about fifty boats on stands, all out of the water, covered in thick tarpaulin. ‘We’ll never spotFreedomhere. They’re all covered up.’ She drove towards the river. Several weeping willows lined the road, that’s when she spotted a man with a jet wash, hosing down a huge luxurious looking cruiser. Earphones in, he didn’t even look in their direction. Gina stepped out of the car, closely followed by Wyre. ‘Excuse me,’ she called but the man carried on washing the boat and humming to whatever he was listening to. His long grey hair bounced as he danced. She also knew exactly why he hadn’t been answering the phone. Gina tapped him on the shoulder and he snatched his earphones, pulling them down and letting the buds dangle.
‘You scared the life out of me.’
‘Sorry.’ Gina smiled and stepped back out of the puddle. ‘I tried to call you but—’
‘Yeah, my fault.’ He pointed to his earphones and smiled. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’m DI Harte and this is DC Wyre. We need to speak to you about one of the boats that you store here.’
He scrunched up his red nose. ‘Why would you want to speak to me? I haven’t seen any unusual activity. Which boat do you want to know about?’
‘It’s calledFreedom?’ Gina watched as the man paused in thought.
‘Oh, that old thing. I keep calling the owner as it’s on its last legs. Damn thing is falling apart through neglect. I keep it in the next field along with the rest of the old scrap that people keep paying me to house. The guy didn’t even want it cleaned properly but he kept paying me to keep it here so that’s what I did.’ He paused and placed the jet wash on the tarmac. ‘What do the police want with that old boat? I know it’s not in the water as the owners normally ask me to get the boats in the river for them, besides it’s trapped in by other boats. They wouldn’t be able to just come here and take it.’
‘We have reason to believe that it may have been involved in a crime. Can you show it to us?’
‘I don’t like doing this. Should I call the owner?’
‘The owner, Grant Braddock, is missing and we were told he has a boat. We are concerned for his and his wife’s welfare.’
‘In that case, follow me.’ He lit up a cigarette as he led them past the riverside house and onto a field. The smoke he puffed out trailed under Gina’s nose as she followed him. ‘This is the premium area. Tarmacked, watched by CCTV.’ He sucked on the cigarette.
‘Freedomis over here?’ Wyre scrunched her brow.
The man laughed. ‘You’re going to wish you wore your wellies.Freedomis on the field. That’s the budget section. There is no CCTV. It has a dirt track entrance and although it is in a fenced area, I can’t guarantee the safety of the boats and I charge accordingly.Freedomhad been left on tarmac but the owner stopped paying, saying he couldn’t afford it any more so I moved it until he paid his debt. He’s behind with his payments by about three months. He said he was coming into some money, that he’d have his boat cleaned and restored soon. I guess that’s not happening now.’
Gina stepped into the sludgy field, the coldness of the mud splashing her ankles and dirtying the hem of her trousers. Before they proceeded any further, she and Wyre bent over and rolled theirs up. The man didn’t seem to care about muddying his.
‘Told you. See in the far corner, by the trees.’
Gina looked up and continued squelching on. ‘Yes.’
‘That isFreedom. Wait.’ He stared at the boat. ‘The tarpaulin has been removed. Someone’s been here.’
Gina began to run as she heard a bang coming from the old boat. Grant had to be keeping Annabel there, it made sense. All this time he’d kept her on a boat. Just beyond the trees, she saw a silver Mercedes, Grant’s other car. ‘Stand back, sir,’ she called to the man. ‘Call for backup.’
Wyre nodded.
The last thing Gina wanted was a hostage situation. She imagined Grant, desperate on drugs, terrorising his wife.
