‘I’m going to get on to the police,’ says Ruth.
Nelson has never visited the halls of residence at UNN but, as he drives through the maze of buildings, he’s reminded of similar places in Brighton and Plymouth, where his daughters were students. There are the same apartment blocks, bookshops and cafés with tiny roads between them, like a child’s version of a town. The only difference is that, when he was dropping off Laura and Rebecca, the miniature streets were full of students and their parents, carrying luggage and saying tearful goodbyes. There had been balloons at Brighton and ‘student welcomers’ at Plymouth. Presumably, there were similar festivities at UNN, when term started last September but, today, the campus is deserted. Cherry tree blossom blows across the courtyards, looking like confetti from a long-forgotten wedding. The shops are boarded up and, across the bolted door of Canary Café, someone has written, ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here’.
On the phone, Eileen told him to go to ‘Vancouver’, as if its location was obvious. But, in the event, Nelson finds it easily. It’s the largest building, almost as big as a small hotel and with the same anonymous feeling to it, stone cladding with a vertical line of plasticky-looking blue tiles, rows of windows all with the same dreary blinds. There’s a girl standing under the blue porch. She’s wearing a mask but Nelson can tell that she’s anxious just from the way that she’s standing, arms wrapped around her body. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, too flimsy for the breezy spring day.
‘Eileen? I’m DCI Nelson.’ He shows his identification and, keeping his distance, takes off his mask so she can see his face. Eileen barely glances at the warrant card. Nelson wants to tell her to look properly. What’s she doing, living in this deserted place all on her own? What are her parents thinking?’
‘Thank you for coming,’ says Eileen breathlessly. ‘When Dr Galloway said she was calling the police I didn’t know. . .’
‘Dr Galloway has a hotline to the Serious Crimes Unit,’ says Nelson. He puts on his mask. ‘She said you were worried about a fellow student.’
‘Yes,’ says Eileen. ‘My friend Joe. He’s not answering his phone and his blinds are drawn.’
‘Are you sure he hasn’t just gone home?’
‘I’m sure. He’s got nowhere to go. Like me.’
The girl needs a hug and a hot meal, thinks Nelson. Well, he can’t supply either.
‘Can you show me Joe’s room?’ he says.
Eileen leads him up a staircase that smells of plastic and neglect. Joe’s room is on the first floor at the end of a line of doors, some of which still have names on them. Trixie Bell. Big Ed. The Cookie Monster.
Nelson knocks on the last door. ‘Joe?’
He knocks harder. ‘Police! Open up!’
No answer. His voice echoes along the empty corridor.
‘Stand back,’ says Nelson to Eileen, even though she is dutifully keeping two metres away.
He charges the door, which opens easily. The darkened room is completely empty. Nelson takes in bed, desk, chair and a collage of photographs, all showing Dr Ruth Galloway.
Chapter 22
Judy rolls her eyes although there’s no one in the room to see it. Once again, the boss has gone rushing off after a phone call from Ruth, something about a student possibly being at risk. The best thing to do, in Judy’s opinion, would have been to call campus security but Nelson muttered that it was quicker to go himself. Then he charged out of the office, knocking over a small table on his way. Judy heard his car roaring in the car park– she recognised the slightly dodgy exhaust– and then everything was silent.
Judy sighs and goes back to her Lean Zone notes. She has texted Barb Blakeborough and arranged to call at eleven. Barb answers her phone immediately, obviously ready and waiting.
Judy explains about following up on the death of Avril Flowers.
‘Poor Avril,’ says Barb. ‘I was so shocked when I heard. Do you know what happened to her?’
‘It’s an ongoing investigation,’ says Judy, ‘but I’m very keen to find out about Avril’s state of mind in the days and weeks leading up to her death. I understand that she used to attend your Lean Zone meetings.’
‘Yes,’ says Barb. ‘She was one of those women who never really seemed to lose weight, but she said the group helped stop her putting too much on. Not like me. I lost six stone in 2015 and I’ve kept it off. Thanks to Lean Zone.’
She says this like she’s said it many times before. It sounds like a huge weight loss to Judy. Six stone is a small child, isn’t it? She wonders if Barb expects congratulations, or at least amazement.
‘Did Avril have any friends in the group?’ she asks instead.
‘I’m not sure,’ says Barb. ‘I think there were a few of them that used to have coffee together sometimes.’
‘Well, can you text me if you remember any names?’ says Judy. ‘How was Avril’s mood when you last spoke to her?’
‘She seemed very cheerful,’ says Barb. ‘She was going on a trip with her friend Hugh.’
‘I spoke to Avril’s vicar,’ said Judy, ‘and she thought Avril might have been worried about something.’
