DARK CRIMES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (20 page)

CHAPTER 19: The Dark Pool

Wednesday Morning

Lydia Pillay was tired. She’d spent the night in the hotel room next to the one used by Tracy Beck and her family. She’d woken regularly through the night, looked at the clock and then lain awake for what seemed like hours before drifting off once more. She’d seated herself at a table near the family while they ate breakfast, until she was finally relieved by another officer. Now here she was in Bournemouth, knocking on the door of a ground-floor flat that seemed to be unoccupied, judging from the lack of response. The building was dingy, with a badly soiled carpet running the length of the ground floor corridor. The walls looked as though they hadn’t been painted in a decade. The interior light didn’t work so the sole illumination for the landing came from a dirt-encrusted window that looked out onto a small paved yard. A slightly raised bed of earth ran down the side of the yard, looking as though someone had once made an effort to grow a few flowers or shrubs. There was nothing there now but weeds.

A middle-aged Asian couple came out of the front flat.

‘We heard you knocking,’ said the man. ‘She may be at work.’

They looked frightened. Lydia took out her warrant card and held it out for them to see.

‘Dorset police,’ she said. ‘I’m DC Pillay. The lady who lives here may be able to help us with an investigation. Her name is Shaz Fellows. Is that right?’

The woman nodded. ‘Sharon is such a pretty name. Why do girls have to alter their names like that? She was here last night because we heard her before we went to bed. There was some bumping.’

‘Where does she work?’ asked Pillay.

‘A café ten minutes’ walk away towards the gardens. It is called Waterside café, though it is away from the stream. But you can see the flower beds in the park gardens from the front tables. It is nice for tourists. Good food. What is the word when nothing has been put on the food?’

‘Organic?’ suggested Pillay.

‘That is it. It is an organic café. Expensive.’

‘Do you know Shaz well?’

‘No,’ came the hesitant reply. ‘Some local girls are good, and courteous . . .’

‘But Shaz isn’t?’ prompted Pillay.

‘You know what some young girls are like in these days,’ explained the man. ‘They have no moral centre to their lives. It is the drink. She can be nice but we would be ashamed if our daughter were to behave like her at night. It is good to see a young Asian woman like you in the police. Why do these English girls have no dignity?’

Pillay didn’t answer. She still enjoyed her wilder moments at parties, but was careful to keep the gory details well away from her immediate family. She smiled at the couple.

‘Well, thank you for your help. We may want to speak to you again.’

She took a note of their names and telephone number. Then she walked outside to call back to the incident room. As well as the name Shaz Fellows on the list of Susie Pater’s contacts, Pillay remembered also seeing the word Waterside. Sophie’s instructions were for her to visit the café.

The café owner was harassed and short-tempered.

‘She’s let me down again,’ he hissed at Pillay, as he passed with a tray of coffee and buns. ‘I’m sick and tired of it. And she knew I was depending on her today. I told her when she left yesterday evening. I really don’t want her back, but I just can’t find anyone else to fill the mid-week slots. It’s a nightmare. I’ve got someone coming this afternoon for an interview and if she seems any good I’ll take her on right away, and Shaz can just fade into oblivion as far as I’m concerned.’

‘Does she often take days off without warning?’

He stopped to think, wiping his hands on his pristine white apron. ‘Now you come to mention it, this is the first time. She’s always let me know by phone before.’

‘So why do you feel so negative about her?’

‘She’s slow, lazy and rude. Thank God she’s never sworn in front of any customers, but once she’s out of their earshot she’s as crude as they come. But she can be really surly to them if she’s in a bad mood. The last few days have been awful. Her boyfriend has walked out on her apparently, and she’s been absolutely foul. And her cold sore didn’t help. Who wants to be served by a surly, moody waitress with a weeping lip for goodness’ sake?’

‘She had a cold sore?’ Pillay asked.

‘Well, that’s what she told me. I think they’d come to blows, and that’s why he left. There were some marks around her cheeks. She’d done her best to cover them with make-up, but I could still see something. I didn’t mention it though. She could fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. And she only got the tattoo done a couple of weeks ago.’

‘Can you explain, please?’

‘She had a big heart tattooed on her right arm with his name inside. I’m not a great fan of tattoos, but some can look alright. You know, a flower or butterfly. But this was a real monstrosity.’

‘What was the name?’

‘Andy. The message inside read ‘Shaz for Andy’ but with the word ‘for’ written as a number. You know, like text-speak. Really tacky, and that sums up Shaz.’

A sudden thought struck Pillay. ‘Was Donna Goodenough ever an employee or customer here?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I had her as a waitress about three years ago. She was a student, and worked weekends. For about six months, I think. She was about the best waitress I've ever had.’

‘And Susie Pater?’

‘No. But there was a customer called Susie who became friendly with Donna.’

‘Don’t you read the papers or watch the news?’ Pillay looked across at a couple of tabloids lying on a side table, provided for customers to read.

‘Not really, apart from the sports section. Don’t have much time.’

Pillay was already moving to the door. ‘Thanks. We’ll be back in touch.’

She could hardly get her phone out quickly enough.

* * *

Marsh replaced the phone carefully into its cradle. He tapped his finger on the desktop for a few moments, then stood up and went in search of Sophie.

‘I’ve just had an interesting conversation with someone from Wareham nick, ma’am.’

‘Go on, Barry. I can see by the look on your face that you might be on to something. Don’t leave me in suspense.’

‘Well, I’ve been keeping my eye on the log of calls coming in to various stations around the county, just like you suggested. Apparently there’s a squad car out at a pool in Wareham Forest just now. A nature reserve ranger called in to report that she suspected something was dumped in the water last night.’

‘Any other details?’

‘Not a lot. But a squad car doesn’t usually get despatched just because a bit of rubbish has been chucked in the water somewhere. There must have been something suspicious about it. I was thinking of Lydia’s news. There’s probably no connection, but even so . . .’

‘Is it possible for us to be put through to the squad car?’ Sophie said.

‘I don’t see why not. I’ll get the control room, shall I?’

After a minute or two, Marsh handed over the phone, mouthing, ‘One of the guys out there.’

‘Who am I speaking to?’ she asked.

She listened to the slightly crackly reply, and jotted down a map reference.

‘You know why we might be interested. What can you see?’ She listened intently to the reply. ‘Listen, don’t disturb anything any further. We’re on our way, and I want forensics there just in case. We’ll arrange that. Just stay where you are and keep the ranger with you. We should be with you in about half an hour.’

She replaced the phone and unhooked her jacket from the back of the chair.

‘What was that you said yesterday about not sharing my optimism, Barry? Good job I didn’t take you seriously. And well done for spotting that report. It just might be the breakthrough we’ve been looking for. We’re on the move.’

‘Could they see anything?’

‘No, it’s too murky. They spent some time poking around with a pole. There was something there, but they couldn’t tell what it was.’

* * *

The pool was set back about three hundred yards from the road, approached by a muddy track that seemed to lose itself in the shadowy gloom created by the overhanging trees. The trees thinned out close to the edge of the pool and the surface of the water showed few reflections. The part of the pool they could see was about half a mile in length, but less than half that in width. A group of people was standing midway along the northern side, where the track ended at a small grassy clearing alongside the water’s edge. Sophie peered into the dark, peaty water as the ranger recounted her tale. Alice Llewellyn was a tall, fair-haired young woman dressed in olive-coloured outdoor gear and boots. She told them how she carried out a reconnoitre of the area regularly each morning, and had spotted fresh tyre tracks leading close to the water’s edge. The edge of the bank had drag marks on it, as if something heavy had been pulled across it and into the water. She had spotted something just below the water line, looking as though it was a bundle in plastic, but it had slid further under when she’d tried to hook it with a pole. She’d felt uneasy about it and so had reported it to the police.

‘What made you feel uneasy?’ asked Sophie.

‘Maybe I watch too many crime dramas on TV, or maybe I’m over-imaginative, but it gave me the creeps. It was lodged on the edge of those reeds, but below the water line. And it had the shape of . . . well, you know. As I tried to hook it, it got dislodged, and it was gone in an instant. It must have been heavy. These guys arrived and we poked around. We hit something solid but the pole just slid off it.’

She looked rather frightened.

‘Look, you don’t have to stay. It’ll be a little while before our forensic and underwater squads arrive. Would you prefer to wait back in your office or at home?’ Sophie said.

The ranger shook her head. ‘Are you kidding? This is my patch. I’m responsible for it. Anyway, you might find something, and I don’t want to miss that. Things can be a bit dulls out here. Don’t think that I’m complaining. I chose this job. But some excitement is no bad thing. What I can do is to go and get some coffee for everyone. Would that be okay? We’ve got a stack of flasks in the centre — we use them when we have school groups here.’

‘That would be just perfect, Alice,’ Sophie said.

‘Any chance of choccy biscuits?’ asked the younger of the two uniformed men, with a wink. Alice smiled and nodded before heading off down the track.

Sophie moved to one side and rang Pillay for an update. McGreedie’s team had been due to arrive at Shaz Fellows’s flat in Bournemouth in order to carry out a search.

* * *

Alice had only just returned with the coffee when the first of the vans arrived, disgorging a mass of equipment, followed by a Land Rover with the underwater squad. It was an hour before the divers were kitted out and ready to start the search. Sophie didn’t envy them as they slid into the dark cold water. The pool was about seven feet deep at that point and the divers’ underwater lights could only just be seen by the group standing on the bank. Within a few minutes one of them surfaced and called for a sling to be taken down. Two of the divers then resurfaced at the waterside with a bundle wrapped in black plastic sheeting. It was carefully hauled onto the bank, a few bedraggled strands of weed still lying draped across the surface. Sophie turned to the white-faced ranger who nodded.

‘That’s it.’ She held her hand to her mouth.

Sophie turned to the senior forensics officer. ‘Let’s get it open for a quick look. If it is what we think, we’ll need a tent up, so be ready. It may have only gone in last night.’

She took hold of the ranger’s arm and steered her away. ‘Alice, thanks for all your help. This is where things might get nasty. You can remain if you wish. But you could be in for a shock if you wait around here. Believe me, if it is a body, then this won’t be a very pleasant place to be in the next few minutes. You’d be better off away from here. I can keep you informed by phone if you wish. Alternatively, you could sit in your jeep.’

‘Yes, I’ll do that. I want to know what’s happened and I’d just fret if I was back at home or in the office.’

‘Can we see all of the pool from here? It’s just that I can’t make out the western edge. It disappears behind the trees. Is there any more?’ Sophie asked.

‘Yes. It widens again round the corner, but that part doesn’t belong to the nature reserve. It’s fenced off, and the land is owned by a gravel extraction company. You can see the start of the fencing if you look carefully. Here, use my binoculars.’

Sophie could just make out the posts of a chain-link fence between gaps in the trees that ran down to the water’s edge.

‘It’s deeper than this end, but it isn’t accessible. The whole of that area was owned by a mineral company, but they went bust before they could start extracting. Some kind of conglomerate has it now, but they haven’t done anything about using it. I’m quite glad, because I don’t want a lot of noisy trucks here.’

‘So how do you get into it?’

‘There’s a rough track that comes off the road a mile or so further along. It loops around the higher ground and doubles back. But there’s a locked gate at the lower end as the track leaves our land and access to the pool area is barred at the top end by a high security gate set into the fencing. It’s kept padlocked.’