Stan laughed. ‘You’re funny.’
‘Thanks. I think so too.’ She grinned at him and left him in the office alone to go and get freshened up before she scared everyone to death at the briefing.
THIRTEEN
Danielle’s Labrador was the best sniffer dog in the world as far as she was concerned. Ruby could find her tennis ball no matter how far into the woods and brambles you threw it. She could throw it into a wild patch of thick nettles and willowy grass taller than the dog and she’d still come out with it clamped in her jaw, tail wagging wildly. She had gone running off the path a few minutes ago and hadn’t returned, which was unlike her unless she’d found a stream or some water to go have a quick paddle in. Danielle was on a long, rambling walk to get some head space from her busy life. She pulled her earbuds out. Where was she?
‘Ruby, come here girl.’
Usually, she would hear her thundering through the long grass like a giant, ambling along to get back to her. Ruby’s bark echoed through the trees, and she sighed. ‘Ruby, come on.’
The dog barked again, more frantic this time, and she realised that she might be caught up or stuck somewhere. ‘Bloody hell, Ruby.’ She scanned the area, but there was no path here that led to where Ruby’s barks were coming from.
Danielle had been walking here with her parents since she was old enough to take her first steps, and she had picked a route that wasn’t well used by anyone who wasn’t familiarwith Grizedale Forest. She was going to have to make her way through the brambles and nettles, sting herself to death to reach Ruby, and if that dog had managed to free herself before she got there, she’d scream. Pulling her leggings down further, she tucked them into her socks to try and protect her ankles as much as she could. Then she picked up a stick that was long enough to hold back the worst of the brambles so she could get to Ruby. Beating her way through she had to go around some shrubs that were as tall as she was. When she reached the other side she stopped dead in her tracks. There was a pink Fiat 500 parked behind them.How the hell did this get here?
She looked around to see if there was a track it had driven down, then she realised that there was a narrow access road it must have taken. How long had it been here? It didn’t look as if it was old and a rust bucket, but it was hard to tell as it was parked deeply in amongst the trees and vines.
Ruby was waiting a little away from the car, pacing back and forth. She wouldn’t come no matter how many times Danielle called. The dog let out a high-pitched bark and ran forward and then back towards her, and Danielle shook her head and followed.
They trekked a fair distance along a lightly marked trail, until they emerged at a small clearing. Ruby was standing outside of a tent, and she let out another high-pitched bark. Danielle was not sure what she was supposed to do, so she took out her phone and snapped some photos. As she walked nearer to it, she called out, ‘Hello, is anyone in the tent?’
Ruby was sitting in front of it, whining now, and Danielle felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle against her skin as a feeling of unease crept over her.
‘Ruby.’ She hissed the dog’s name, and it looked at her then straight back at the tent.
With shaking hands, she pressed record on her iPhone to cover herself, because she didn’t know if she should be going into someone’s tent, yet it looked as if it had been abandoned.
There were no signs of life. Ruby was sitting on a faded pink yoga mat that was covered in dark splotches, and it had grass and weeds growing over it, and there was a large gold bowl spotted with similar dark brown splotches. Danielle was a sister on a busy ward in the hospital and she knew dried blood when she saw it, and the panic inside of her chest was making it hard to suck air in. Ruby barked once at her, the sound echoing through the trees, and she shook her head. Not moving any further, she dialled 999, relieved she had just enough signal to get through to the police and tell them where she was and that she’d meet them at the car park, which was over a mile away, because they would never find this place without her help.
She grabbed hold of Ruby’s collar, clipping the lead to it, and dragged her away.
The blood inside of her head was pounding so hard she thought it might explode; she was panicking now. What if she was being dramatic and it had just been left there? But there was something very wrong with this little campsite. Ruby had confirmed that there was something or somebody inside of the tent by her reluctance to move.
She dragged the dog as far away as she could then tied her lead around a tree because she wouldn’t follow her like she usually did.
‘Stay there, Ruby. I’ll be back soon.’ Then she took off jogging back down the path to get to the car park and meet the police. They could check out the car and tent. This wasn’t for her to do. There was no way on this earth she was unzipping that tent.
FOURTEEN
Morgan had managed a quick shower without getting her hair too wet and had changed into the fresh set of clothes she kept in her locker in case of emergencies. She even had spare foundation, eyeliner and mascara. As tired as her eyes looked when she stared at herself in the mirror, at least she appeared a little more like her usual self.
Cain had come up with the goods, a quick trip to The Coffee Pot and he’d brought them decent lattes and breakfast which had tasted so good Morgan could have eaten it all again. She wouldn’t say she was bright-eyed, but she looked better than dead, and she sat in the blue room waiting for everyone else to join her for the briefing.
Marc was faffing around with the Smart Board. He had the three blue folders on the desk next to his laptop. Ben walked in followed by Cain, Stan, Wendy, Joe and Carl from CSI. Cain was rolling his eyes in Marc’s direction; he had clearly been on one this morning and upset just about everyone whom he had come into contact with. Morgan was hoping eating some carbs and consuming caffeine had made him a little more human too. As everyone took their seats the door opened once more and in walked two officers who she instantly knew were from PSDby the serious expressions on their faces, smart suits and stiff backs. Though it was the thick document files they were carrying that really gave them away. She glanced at Ben to see his gaze meet theirs and he nodded at them. He didn’t look too worried; maybe this would all be okay.
‘Before you begin, I just want to introduce myself and my colleague. I’m Aaron Jones and this is Steph Walker. We both work up at headquarters in the Professional Standards Department. I think you can gather that we’re here because of the similarities of Lauren Williams’s murder to that of two previous victims including her sister Lydia. We’re not here to judge or blame anyone; we both want to help as much as we can. We’re also not here to interrupt the briefing. We just need to know what’s going on as much as you do and we can take it from there if that’s okay.’
Aaron sat down next to Morgan. He smiled at her as he did, and she smiled back. She stole a glance in Stan’s direction, and he looked as if he wanted to run from the room straight back to his old station in St Bees. Poor bloke was definitely not going to hang around for the long term. He would be out of here as quickly as he could get a transfer. She didn’t blame him, but it made her wonder just what kind of copper he’d been when he’d been out on patrol, had he buckled up and joined in with the fights and arrests that were part and parcel of being in uniform, or had he shied away from any drama?
Marc was finding it difficult to stand still; he was raring to go.
‘Right, I suppose we should get started. As you all know a body was found last night in the empty Keswick Manor Hotel. I’m pretty sure most of you are aware of how secluded and abandoned this location is, especially those who’ve worked response, as it’s been a part of the patrol strategy for drive-bys since the owner died, until the sons hired a private security firm to take over after a spate of break-ins. If you’re not familiar withit then it’s not too far from Crosthwaite church. This is what we have up to now: Lauren Williams is, was, a thirty-eight-year-old, Caucasian female. She lives, lived, with her partner, Joey Baker, at twenty-one Kendal Road, recently moved here from York. There are no known issues between them. They were, according to Lauren’s boss Mike Walker who turned up at the scene last night, in a happy, stable, loving relationship. They both work for the same company and Mike never heard either of them complaining about the other.
‘Lauren was the regular security guard responsible for monitoring the hotel, and she worked Wednesday to Sunday on the evening shift, has worked at the Rydal Falls Security firm since she moved here and been checking out the hotel for the past two months. She radioed the control room to say there was an intruder then got cut off. Her supervisor drove straight out there, but she also phoned nine nine nine, and that call was abandoned before she could give us any information and, unfortunately, we know why. Cause of death is, as far as we can tell, the slashed throat and stab wounds, and the murder weapon was left in her chest cavity, which is the cause of this chaos. Ben, do you want to explain?’
Morgan knew Ben would rather do anything but, especially when he looked so exhausted, but he stood up with a handful of printouts and passed some in each direction around the table, including crime-scene photographs of the bodies of Lydia Williams and Sharon Montgomery. Taking a huge gulp of his latte, he cleared his throat which still sounded gravelly, and waited a moment until everyone had looked at those before he began to talk.
‘As you can see from those photographs there is a striking similarity between the wounds inflicted on all three women. As far as I am aware we didn’t release any of this information to the press or on social media. The only people who would knowabout the injuries and the way the weapon was left in the chest is anyone who worked the case, the victims’ families and possibly close friends who could have found out from the victims’ loved ones.’
