Snow Kills (6 page)

Kim reached out and touched his arm. ‘What are we going to do?’ she said.

He looked up and gave her the closest thing to a reassuring look he could muster. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find her – like the police woman said.’

As dawn broke, the search and rescue team started their planned search of the area where Kayleigh’s car had been found. The team leaders and their colleagues swept outwards from the vehicle, combing every inch of their predetermined patch. The news spread and civilians from far and wide offered their support.

PC Jackie May understood that Kayleigh wasn’t the sort of person that would usually be classed as vulnerable, but there was nothing to suggest that she wanted to disappear either. If there had been an accident, where was her body? The officer was aware that thousands of people went missing every year and some were never found, but she didn’t want that to be the case with Kayleigh. She decided to seek the advice of Harrowfield’s Criminal Investigation Department (CID). She wondered what their views would be on the facts that she had so far and hoped that they could suggest what she should do next. She was out of her depth.

To Jackie, the CID office had always been intimidating. To the young female, the male dominated arena was like walking into a public house, in the middle of town, at night and alone.

She closed her eyes momentarily as she reached the heavy grey fire door, took a deep breath and raised her hand to knock, then decided otherwise. Taking hold of the door handle, she put her shoulders behind it and walked in. As a rookie, she remembered being shown round the police station and the police officers in plain clothes staring at her from behind their desks had made her feel uncomfortable.

Jackie knew the head of the CID department, Detective Inspector Jack Dylan, by sight. He’d just got married to Jennifer Jones from the admin department and they had had a little girl called Maisy. Their affair had been the talk of the police station at the time – no one thought Dylan, the career detective and hostage negotiator, and Harrowfield’s perpetual bachelor, would ever succumb to the proverbial ball and chain. As if thinking about him conjured him up, she spotted Dylan standing at the end of the office, in his shirt sleeves, with his back to her studying a dry wipe board that was full of evidence and drawn links to photographs and minute sheets. Dylan was in his late thirties, she would have a guessed, thick set and around six foot tall. The sort of person you wouldn’t want to upset, she thought as he turned around at the sound of the door shutting and glanced at her before continuing with the job in hand. Jackie shivered, pulled herself up to her five foot four inch height and clutched the Misper report for Kayleigh Harwood tightly. Instead of scanning the room, she headed straight down the middle of the desks to where DC Vicky Hardacre sat. Vicky stood up and smiled. Everyone knew Vicky in the nick for her breast implants, which gave her a figure to die for. This was a woman who wasn’t intimidated or embarrassed by anyone and Jackie aspired to be just like her one day, as she blushed, a fuchsia shade of pink.

‘Hi Jackie, what you got there love? A job for us?’ she said.

‘She wants to know how much it costs for a boob job like yours,’ quipped a chubby bloke with crisp, curly black hair and dark eyes who rested lazily upon one arm on his desk.

Vicky swung round and gave him a slap on the back of his head with the palm of her hand.

‘You’ll be applying for some dentures if you don’t back off,’ she said, winking at Jackie. ‘Ignore him kid, every office has one.’

Normally at moments like this Jackie would have been praying for the ground to open up and swallow her but to her surprise, she laughed instead. Vicky was cool.

‘Come over to my desk, in the corner, we won’t be disturbed there mate. Do you fancy a drink? Kettle’s just boiled,’ she said.

‘A coffee would be great, thanks,’ she said, shyly. In her experience, detectives told her to go and put the kettle on, they didn’t make a drink for her – she was pleasantly surprised.

‘Milk, sugar?’ Vicky enquired as she spooned the coffee powder out of the jar into two cups.

‘Both thanks.’ Jackie said.

‘Mine’s black,’ called the detective.

Vicky flashed him her middle finger, ‘Ned,’ she said. He cocked his head. ‘Swivel. Now, what’s up love?’ she added, smiling as she slid in behind her desk and invited Jackie to sit opposite her.

‘Ned?’ said Jackie with a frown as she took the mug from Vicky.

‘DC Duncan Granger.’

‘So why Ned?’ she said taking a small sip of her drink.

‘Hung like a donkey, or so they say.’

Jackie coughed, took another sip and coughed again mid-swallow, choking on the hot liquid.

‘But I wouldn’t put it past him starting the rumour himself,’ said Vicky, in a loud whisper that DC Granger couldn’t help but hear. He flashed her a V sign without lifting his head from the tabloid he was reading.

‘Really?’ Jackie said wiping the tears from her eyes.

Vicky cocked an eyebrow at the young police officer, who cleared her throat and proceeded to shuffle the papers in her hand.

Jackie cleared her throat. ‘I’m concerned about this girl that’s gone missing. To be honest, I don’t know what else I can do that I haven’t done already to try to locate her. Any ideas... I’d be really grateful?’ she said, handing Vicky the report.

Vicky sat quietly for a moment or two, taking a mouthful of her coffee as she read the paperwork. Jackie looked around her and her eyes locked in on another man in a suit who sat nearby. She smiled, timidly and he winked at her. She looked quickly away.

‘Well, it’s certainly a mystery,’ Vicky said, scratching her head and gaining Jackie’s attention once more. ‘Anything else of relevance come in that night?

‘Not really, just a male flasher at a house in Harrowfield about tea time.’

‘Wonder he didn’t freeze his bollocks off,’ Vicky laughed. ‘You haven’t searched her home, her boyfriend’s or her workplace yet?’

Jackie shook her head.

‘We can’t leave anything to chance and we have to be sure about those close to her, or the last person to physically speak to her, before we move on. As the boss would say, we must clear the ground beneath our feet first.’ Vicky smiled as she looked in Dylan’s direction.

‘The rescue teams are out there, so if she is a victim of the weather, they’ll find her, I’m confident about that,’ said Jackie.

‘Good,’ Vicky nodded. ‘Impressed.’

Jackie sat and listened to the friendly blonde twenty seven year old Detective, who made everything sound so simple.

‘I think we had better inform the DI. He likes to be told about anything that CID might be involved in. Have you worked with Dylan before?’

‘No, just heard about him,’ she said, clasping her hand together tightly in her lap and moving to the edge of her seat. ‘He’s a bit scary, isn’t he?’

Vicky laughed. ‘Dylan? Don’t you believe all you hear, Dylan’s a good boss but he doesn’t suffer fools gladly and I suspect it’s those who think that he’s scary. Work hard, make a good brew,’ she said, raising her cup in the air, ‘and he’ll be putty in your hands. Look, he’s just gone in his office. There’s no time like the present, let’s introduce you to him and see what he has to say about the missing girl.’

‘Now?’ Jackie gulped. ‘You mean just walk in without making an appointment with his secretary?’

‘He’s a Detective Inspector,’ Vicky said, shaking her head as she stood up and walked towards Dylan‘s office. ‘Oh my, you’ve a lot to learn. CID isn’t like uniform. You’re treated like real people in here and we don’t get any luxuries like secretaries in CID.’ Jackie tagged behind, in trepidation. Vicky knocked on Dylan’s door and entered without waiting to be invited in, but to Jackie’s surprise he looked up from his paperwork, put his pen down and smiled at them.

‘Boss, this is PC Jackie May from Harrowfield patrol. She’s dealing with a report of an eighteen year old female Misper who disappeared on White Wednesday.’ Dylan held out his hand and invited them to sit opposite him.

‘Okay, tell me what you know PC May,’ he said. Dylan was still smiling, and there was something about his smile that made her feel at ease. The atmosphere was relaxed and she felt comfortable as she went through the circumstances of the case.

‘Very thorough and concise,’ Dylan said. ‘So what else do you think we can do?’

Jackie’s mouth was dry and as she wriggled in her seat she looked sideways at Vicky for support.

‘We thought perhaps we should search the home, the boyfriend’s flat and her work place to confirm that she isn’t in any of the obvious places first,’ Vicky said.

‘Well we should be able to do that with consent, I would have thought, and if anyone objects, we’ll deal with that when it arises,’ said Dylan, slamming the palms of his hands on his desk as he stood. ‘How would you like to come and work with us for a few days in plain clothes Jackie... that’s if your Sergeant will allow it?’

‘Would I, Sir?’ she said, her eyes wide with excitement.

‘I’ll speak to him boss,’ Vicky said.

‘Okay, keep me posted. I don’t like it when young girls go missing. Vicky, any problems with Jackie’s Sergeant let me know, because technically this is still a Uniform job.’

‘Don’t worry boss, I’ll use my charm,’ she said with a wink.

‘That’s what worries me,’ Dylan replied as he followed them to the door.

‘Thank you, sir,’ Jackie said as she stopped and looked up at him.

‘You’re more than welcome,’ Dylan said. ‘Thank you for bringing the matter to our attention.’

‘Come on. Let’s put your Sarg under pressure, he’ll be no match for us both,’ Vicky said as she marched through the CID office like a woman on a mission.

‘Dylan’s nice, isn’t he?’ said Jackie running behind Vicky to keep up.

‘Told you he was,’ she said, then seeing the look on Jackie’s face, like a schoolgirl with a crush, Vicky raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Oh, no not again,’ she said with a groan.

Dylan passed Kayleigh Harwood’s misper details to Claire Rose in the press office. His approach was to ask Kayleigh to make contact, as well as appealing for anyone who had seen her, or who was in the area of Manchester Road on White Wednesday.

Virginia Mason, Editor of the Harrowfield Courier, was soon on the phone to him, so he knew the appeal had gone out directly. ‘What else can you tell me Jack?’

Dylan smiled. The direct approach of the young, bubbly brunette, always made him smile.

 ‘Well, while there are obvious concerns for her welfare, V,’ he said. ‘There could be a legitimate reason for a young girl not contacting family or friends. However, because of the horrendous weather conditions on that night, we are obviously anxious about her safety. Anyone in the area will see we have search and rescue teams combing the surrounding locality where her car was found.’

‘Do you suspect she’s been abducted... murdered?’ Virginia said.

‘Kayleigh appears to be a sensible girl, but at the moment her disappearance is unexplained. There’s not a lot more I can tell you. I want to hear from anyone who was in the area last Wednesday, the 7
th
January, so if you can make the appeal in the Harrowfield Courier for us, that would be a start.’

Dylan was always careful not to use the past tense when talking about a misper. It could suggest that he believed them already dead, and when he gave an appeal like this, he hoped with all his being that the missing person was still alive. He waited for further calls from the press. All the editors wanted a headline, that’s what sold their newspaper and kept their journalists in work. He was always grateful for their support – and luckily for Dylan, the editors of today were journalists with whom he had been brought up in his early days in the job.

Vicky had managed to get Jackie May attached to CID for a few days. But she’d be weekend off before having to return for their nightshift cover. The two returned to inform Dylan.

‘I’ve given the incident some thought and I’m going to let you have Ned Granger and DC Andy Wormald to assist you.’ Dylan told the pair. ‘Let’s see if we can get any indications as to what’s happened to Kayleigh. I’ll speak to you in a bit, but first I have to make a few phone calls.’

‘Don’t look so worried kid, you’ll be fine. Stick with me and I’ll show you the world,’ Vicky said, placing an arm around Jackie’s shoulders and giving her a motherly hug.

Jackie smiled, yet to be convinced. She would be sticking to Vicky like superglue.

Dylan walked into the general office and gave the pair a list of enquiries that needed to be carried out, with a request for an ongoing log to be kept of what was being done by whom and when.

‘I want to ensure enquiries into Kayleigh’s disappearance are not only diligent but documented. Let Ned and Andy go and talk to her employer and search the hairdresser’s. Tell them I want names and addresses of her customers. We’re going to have to speak to them at some point. You two, go to Mrs Harwood’s house and gather what you can intelligence wise from her, will you? We’ll need something of Kayleigh’s that we can get a DNA profile from.’ Dylan’s eyebrows knitted together in a scowl. ‘You know the sort of thing, hairbrush, toothbrush etcetera. Then when you get back, I want you two to research the list of customers that the lads have obtained, and I want them to go see the boyfriend and rattle his cage, see what drops out, and make sure she isn’t there. Any questions?’

They shook their heads. ‘No, seems straightforward.’

‘Let’s get her found – and don’t forget. Keep me updated,’ he said, already heading back to his office.

Dylan stopped and turned on his heels at his door, ‘In the meantime, if the search and rescue or their body dog turns anything up, I’ll let you know.’

‘Cheers, boss,’ said Vicky.

Jackie smiled.

Detectives Andy Wormald and Ned Granger were directed to the hairdressing salon by force control. Marlene made them a cup of coffee before asking if they minded waiting while she combed out her elderly client’s curls.