Sitting on the bed, his raincoat still on, he stared into space, seemingly oblivious to Helen’s attention.
“I’m going to stay,” he said suddenly, interrupting her. “For the duration.”
“Of course. You must do what feels right,” Helen replied. “But you should be aware that our investigations take weeks, sometimes months—”
“I abandoned Pips once. I’m not going to do it again.”
It was said without self-pity. His tone was one of quiet determination.
“I need to understand what happened to her,” he continued. “Where I... went wrong.”
His voice quivered a little now, before he went on:
“She was my little girl, Helen. I want to stay here until you catch...”
He petered out, grief robbing him of the breath to finish his sentence.
“And we will,” Helen responded quickly. “We’ll catch whoever did this to Pippa. You have my word on that.”
It was a stupid thing to promise and Helen knew she would regret it, but it was what Daniel needed to hear now. The only thing he could hear that would give him the strength to keep going. He looked up at Helen, his eyes full of gratitude, the color suddenly returning to his cheeks. It was as if her words had briefly brought him back to life.
He reached out a hand and took hers. “Thank you, Helen.”
The pair sat in silence for a moment. Then, having checked oncemore that Daniel had everything he needed, Helen left. Daniel had phone calls to make—the worst phone calls he’d ever have to make—and Helen had work to do.
Walking away from the hotel, Helen was suddenly fired with determination to get justice not only for Pippa, but for Daniel too.
25
“So, what do we know about Pippa Briers?”
Helen was addressing the team who had now assembled in the incident room at Southampton Central.
“Born in Reading in 1990 to Daniel and Samantha Briers,” Helen continued. “Her mum died when she was six. Shortly afterward Pippa was diagnosed as suffering from brachycardia—her heart beat too slowly—so she had a pacemaker fitted when she was ten. Her dad remarried shortly afterward. It didn’t go down well and Pippa moved south following a bust-up with her stepmum, staying first with her friend Caroline Furnace in Portsmouth—have we tracked her down yet?”
“Spoke to her on the phone this morning,” DC Grounds replied. “Caroline’s had the occasional text, read the occasional tweet, but hasn’t seen Pippa for over three years now.”
Helen let this thought settle before continuing:
“So she ends up in Southampton, having got a job at the Sun First Travel Agency in WestQuay shopping center. What are they saying?”
“She worked there as a travel agent for nearly six years,” DC McAndrew replied. “Quiet girl, good worker, well liked. Great appraisals and attendance records. Then one day she just didn’t turn up. Sent them a brief e-mail from her BlackBerry saying she’d had enough of organizing other people’s holidays and wanted to travel herself. And they never heard from her again. They were irritated because she was supposed to work a month’s notice, but...”
“When was this?”
“Three years ago.”
“Which is within the time frame of her abduction. Where did she live?”
“She moved around a lot,” piped up DC Stevens, one of the new officers on the team. “Bitterne Park, Portswood, St. Denys. Mostly studio flats or bedsits, nothing very high end. Last known address was in Merry Oak. We’re checking it out.”
“Quick as you can, please,” Helen said with just the right mixture of admonishment and encouragement. They needed facts, not possibilities.
“Friends? Boyfriends?”
“We’ve taken a look at her phone records, her e-mail accounts,” DC Lucas, the new female DC, offered. “Plenty of socializing and lots of Internet dating. Nearly all short-lived apart from one—an on/off boyfriend whom she dated for a year, then dumped when he turned out to be married.”
“Name?”
