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‘It confirms her story, that’s all.’

By the time darkness fell, two bodies lay beside their graves. Both of them were young women. Nash estimated that they’d been buried for periods of between two months and a year. The dog showed no signs of having found any more graves, so the forensics team started to pack up. They planned to return the following day for a sweep of the area using the latest technology.

‘But it won’t find more bodies,’ Nash said. ‘That dog’s a marvel. If it hasn’t detected any more, then there aren’t any. But we have to be certain.’

The two corpses were secured in body bags and manoeuvred into the vans, ready to set off for Dorchester and the waiting Benny Goodall. Sophie didn’t envy him his job for the next few days.

She turned to Marsh. He looked devastated.

‘Have you anything planned for this evening, Barry?’

He shook his head.

‘Come up to Wareham and have something to eat with us. I have to go into Swanage to collect Nadia. You can pick up your car and follow me up the road. Martin or Jade will be cooking something, and one more won’t be a problem.’

‘I don’t know, ma’am.’

‘You need company this evening, Barry. You should be with someone who’s seen what you have. Which means me. Thank God we left Jimmy back on the road. You’re in a mild state of shock and I can’t afford to let it get to you. I don’t want you hitting the bottle either, which is what’ll happen if you’re left on your own. Please trust my judgement. We can also talk things over if we feel up to it. I’ll have to give a report to Matt Silver, and it might help if you were there too. I’ll ask him to pop over to my house. You can drive back to Swanage later tonight if you feel up to it. Or, if you want to kip down for the night, then that will be okay. Believe me, it will be better for you.’

‘Thanks, ma’am,’ he murmured.

Sophie walked outside and took out her mobile phone. She’d been dreading this call for days. She had to tell her new-found grandparents that she and her family could only visit for an afternoon. They sounded disappointed. Sophie was utterly frustrated. She knew they’d started to plan for Graham’s funeral now the remains had been released. They were all hoping that a date could be fixed for the end of the following week.

Chapter 7: Blossom

Friday, Week 1

Benjamin “Blossom” Sourlie stalked out of the block of condemned flats, slinging a small backpack over his shoulder. He hated its sour smell and the grubby, washed-up people that squatted there. He wouldn’t be seen dead in the place if it wasn’t for the monthly supply of drugs and other paraphernalia he had to pick up. He was glad when he reached the fresh air of the street outside. How could people choose to live in such filth? He shook his head, and crossed the road to a narrow lane that led to the car park. His short, squat form cast a shadow as wide as it was tall.

It was very dark. Blossom didn’t see the thin, hunched form standing in the shadows. The figure stepped out in front of him and drew a knife.

‘Gimme your fucking cash,’ the stranger snarled.

Blossom stopped walking and looked at the man who stood scowling in front of him. He stepped a little closer and slipped his right hand inside his jacket pocket as if to fetch out a wallet. Then his left fist, encased in a soft leather glove, shot out and hit the man hard in the abdomen. The man jerked forward. Blossom’s right fist came up and hit the side of his jaw, breaking it. There was a gurgle as blood filled the mouth. The stranger crashed against the wall and slid to the ground. Blossom didn’t even stop to look at his would-be assailant. He walked past and into the small car park at the end of the alley. There, he unlocked his car, slung the backpack under the front seat and drove away. He smiled in satisfaction. Who needed drugs to get high?

* * *

He arrived back at the farmhouse a little after midnight. In some ways the new place was more convenient than Brookway Farm. For a start, it was a good deal closer to Poole. The main problem was a longer boat journey inside the harbour. Brookway had been relatively close to the harbour entrance at Sandbanks. Now the boats would have to navigate right up the harbour, a distance of about six miles. There had been a suggestion that they move to the northern shore. But it was too built up and they could have been spotted, particularly now the police were on their trail.

Blossom had never understood why that lad’s body had to be put up on top of the rock. Why couldn’t it just have been dumped at sea somewhere, weighted down so it would never be found? Ricky was getting out of control. Blossom didn’t like Ricky’s sadistic streak and his hunger for the big, public show. At some point he’d have to speak up. Either that, or just up sticks and go.

He unlocked the door to the old farmhouse and went in. All was silent. He locked the bag of drugs into a cupboard, walked through to the kitchen and poured himself a beer. The kitchen range was still warm from when he’d stoked it up earlier in the evening. No one had bothered to put any more fuel on since. Lazy sods. If it hadn’t been for him and Charlie, the whole scheme would have collapsed months ago. Now, with the boss’s sporadic illness, it was beginning to look as if their days were numbered. Who would have thought it? Charlie’s nephew, Ricky, had taken over the operation but success seemed to have turned his head. Maybe Blossom needed to sit down with Charlie and spell out the problems. But how would he react? Blossom shook his head wearily. The trouble was, he and Charlie weren’t getting any younger. Ricky had started to form his own alliances and wouldn’t be easy to overthrow. Blossom had the uneasy feeling that, when it came to the crunch, Charlie would side with his nephew — and Blossom would end up floating face down out in the Channel somewhere. After all, he’d never been anything more than Charlie’s enforcer.

He opened a porn magazine and began to flick idly through the pages. Maybe he’d screw one of the girls a bit later. The others were always telling him to take one, but he’d never gone through with it. He felt uneasy about the one who’d escaped. There had been no news on the local radio or in the press about her being found. Maybe she was dead, but somehow he doubted it. She could even be in the hands of the cops by now, although he and Ricky had done a good job of cleaning the old place up. They’d left nothing that could lead the cops to this new location, and even this one was temporary. Ricky had started talking about a complete change of plan, moving much further east where the Channel was narrower, the boat trip much shorter and access to London quicker. Blossom was unsure about it. He’d crossed swords with one of the big London gangs many years before, and it hadn’t been a nice experience. He’d escaped without injury, but some of his mates hadn’t been so lucky. Muscling in on that market could prove a step too far unless it was planned properly. He doubted whether Ricky would be bothered to do the necessary homework.

He switched on the television to get the latest news before turning in for the night. There might be something about the missing girl. When the main headline was announced Blossom watched aghast. The partly decomposed bodies of two young women had been found buried on an abandoned farm near Poole Harbour. What? Blossom couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. What bodies? He didn’t know of any bodies. What the fuck had been going on when he was away from the place? He stormed up the stairs, crashed open the door to Ricky’s room, and switched the light on. A white-faced girl sat up, pulling the duvet up around her neck, her eyes wide with fear. Ricky opened his eyes and snarled at Blossom.

‘What the fuck are you doing, you stupid pillock?’

‘You’d better come down and see what’s on TV. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.’

Blossom turned on his heel and stalked back downstairs. He was standing in front of the screen, swallowing the last of his beer, when Ricky walked in. Blossom pointed at the screen, and the headline scrolling across the bottom. “Two women’s bodies found buried on farm near Poole Harbour.”

‘Jesus,’ Ricky said. ‘They’re lying, Blossom.’

‘What do you take me for, you stupid fucker? They wouldn’t lie over something this serious. I know that. You know that. Every Tom, Dick and fucking Harry knows that. If they say they found two bodies, then they found two bodies.’ He pointed his stubby thumb at Ricky. ‘And you put them there, didn’t you? When I was off looking after the business and didn’t have my eye on you. You psycho bastard. Charlie’ll be going mental.’

Ricky looked Blossom in the eye.

‘Charlie knows. He was there. He and that crazy Romanian, Barbu. So you see, Blossom, it’s all three of us. And now you know. What are you going to do?’

Blossom heard a noise. Barbu was standing in the doorway watching them, impassive.

‘Well, I know what we have to do, and I mean
we
. Get away from here, for a start. Do you think for one moment that the cops won’t be looking all along the shore for us? You just had to play the cool gangster when those two cops came calling, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you just act innocent for once and not raise their hackles? I saw the way that blonde one looked at us once you’d started your spiel. She knew you had something to hide all right. They must have been back there pretty quick with sniffer dogs or something. They’ll have every cop in the area out looking for us, and this place is too much like the last one. I reckon we’ve got twenty-four hours at most before they come knocking on the door, and this time we won’t get away. They’ll bring a snatch squad and go through this place like a tornado. So I suggest we all start packing right now and get away before it gets light. And for fuck’s sake don’t let any of the girls get away this time. I’m gonna call Charlie. You two can start getting everything together and loaded into the vans.’

‘And what makes you think you’re giving the orders now?’

‘Because all this,’ Blossom waved at the TV, ‘means you’re incapable of doing anything that isn’t totally stupid. Sulk about it if you like, but none of you seem to have a sensible thought in your heads. We’re not in some crappy backwoods country where the cops take months to get moving, then turn up as a couple of cretins in uniform who can be bribed into turning a blind eye. I suppose that’s what Barbu thinks. Fuck it all, Ricky, they’ll have people a lot cleverer than you or me involved now. So for fuck’s sake get moving. We’ll shift everything and everyone across to Charlie’s empty depot in Poole.’

* * *

This time the move was completed rapidly and without mishaps. A lot of the stuff brought from Brookway was still in bags and boxes. Blossom had phoned Charlie and told him what they were doing and why. Charlie sounded hesitant and Blossom wondered if the gang leader was out of his depth. Things had moved too fast for him. Maybe it was the medication he was on, but he’d failed to keep on top of things. Everything started to go wrong after Hazel died, thought Blossom. He knew Charlie had taken her death badly, but hadn’t realised quite how much. Ever since then Charlie had let Ricky take the lead.

Blossom stood still, struck by a sudden thought. Maybe Charlie wasn’t ill. Was it drugs? It fitted. He’d probably been out of his head, along with Ricky, when the girls had died. Christ. What had gone on? So Charlie was as crazy as his nephew. God knows, he, Blossom, wasn’t exactly an angel but he had some limits. Did Charlie and Ricky realise how much they’d changed over the years? They wouldn’t have killed young girls or sliced the throats of lads like that Stefan when they’d started out all those years ago. Sure, violence had been a part of all their lives. But it had always been necessary violence, only what was needed to get a job done. And he, Blossom, had been the main provider. He had done the mopping up of leakages and the tidying up of any loose ends. And he’d never gone further than he’d had to. But now? God knows what road they were on.

As far as he could tell, that lad had been murdered in front of all the girls. In front of six fucking witnesses, for Christ’s sake. Girls who were intended for the streets, who might end up talking to the cops at some point. Ricky said it would frighten them into silence. Silence my arse.

Blossom heard a noise behind him. Ricky and Barbu had walked into the loading bay from the office corridor. Blossom didn’t trust that Barbu at all. He had the eyes of a snake.

‘Okay, Blossom?’ asked Ricky. ‘How long do you reckon we’re safe here?’

‘Shift those girls on as soon as you can, Ricky. Make sure they end up a long way away from this area. Do you know anyone up north who’s looking for girls? Manchester, or Liverpool?’

‘No contacts that far away. It’s either move them out quick to our normal customers, or keep them here longer while we find new people. Do you know any?’

‘I’ll think about it. Maybe Charlie’ll have some ideas. Is he coming over?’

‘Not till later. We all need some sleep.’

Blossom felt uneasy. ‘We need a guard on those girls, Ricky. We ought to take shifts. I’ll do the first one. And let’s leave the girls be for a while.’

‘You giving orders again?’

‘No, I’m not, Ricky. Just making some sensible suggestions.’

Ricky Frimwell ran a hand through his thinning hair. ‘Okay. Barbu and I’ll get some kip. Wake me up when it gets light.’

‘It’s January, Ricky. It doesn’t get light until nearly eight. We all need some sleep, and that includes me. I’ll wake you at six. That gives you almost four hours.’

He turned aside, pretending to be busy. He felt angry and betrayed by Ricky. All crap and no cooperation. When the two men left the loading bay he rested his head against the door of the van. This was all going nowhere. Did Ricky have a sensible thought in that selfish head of his? After a few minutes he settled into a chair in the small office. The girls were in a large storeroom next to it, bedded down on a line of mattresses. Blossom had found them some old sleeping bags. He found himself hoping they were comfortable and wondered if he was getting soft. Maybe he was getting old. He punched the cushion in a vain attempt to get comfortable, and settled back to think things through.