The Girl in the Rug (6 page)

‘If you are really that worried honey, tell that Brenda
woman…you know, what’s her name from social services,’ Helen said, over her
shoulder as she put the finishing touches to her latest canvas.

‘Brenda Massey,’ said Maya, who was sitting behind Helen
watching her paint. ‘I did try and get her last week, but she is away, holiday
I think. Anyway last time I speak to her, she just says I’m worrying too much,
maybe she’s right…but something is telling me this is not right, I don’t know
why. I mean the girl could have gone away to relative, but first Andy says it’s
grandma, then the mother tells headmaster that it is auntie. And Andy is not
right…he just sits you know…looking out of the window, never speaking unless I
make him…keeping away from other kids…he is not right.’

Helen put down her brushes and put an arm around Maya,
‘Love, I can see that this is really worrying you…so tell someone. Even if this
Brenda has gone on holiday there must be someone else you can speak to…do you
want me to have a word with Carla, get her to check it out? Nothing official of
course, but maybe a visit to the home…see what the mother has to say?’

‘No, no I think that may be too much. You are right I will
speak to social services again, someone else…is only two weeks after all…is
possible she is at grandma’s all the time.’

Maya phoned social services after school the next day and
spoke to a Scott Wilson who was standing in for Brenda while she was away. He
was very helpful, listened to what Maya had to say and said that he would look
into the matter personally, which he did by visiting the Hunt residence the
next day.

He reported back to Maya that evening, ‘Well she’s a right
one that mum isn’t she,’ he began, ‘had to go there three times before she
finally answered the door…stank of booze and the place is an absolute tip, I
don’t know how people can live like that I really don’t. Anyway I managed to
get an address from her for this auntie…it was her sister not her mother,
mother’s been dead for a while, so why Andy said she was at his granny’s is
anybody’s guess. Lives in Chester, so I’ve got the services up there to check
it out…won’t be today though, I’ll let you know when I hear from them ok?’

And with that Maya had to be satisfied, she was still
worried about the boy though. Looking at him reminded her of her youth in
Poland, living in filth and poverty with an abusive father; she had been just
the same reclusive child. Shying away from anyone in authority lest they asked
too many questions, constantly getting into fights with other kids in the
school who would take delight in picking on her and making her life even
harder…Andy was just such a child…a victim, like she had been.

Except that Maya was sure that something else had happened
to the boy recently, something that had knocked the wind out of him completely.
There was a new desperation in his eyes; he looked like someone with nothing
left to live for, going through the motions, it tore at her heart strings and
she was determined to help him somehow.

With their torches sending out an eerie glow into the
freezing fog before them, Carla and Frank both shivered as they walked slowly
along the row of dilapidated garages.

‘Tell me again why I’m here at the crack of dawn in this
filthy garage block, freezing my tits off, instead of being snuggled up in bed
with my husband?’ said Carla accusingly to Frank.

Frank just smirked, ‘You love it…don’t pretend you don’t.
Anyway I said I would check it out…you didn’t need to come.’

‘Yeh you were just hoping that Julia from environmental
health was going to volunteer to go with you, I heard you flirting with her on
the phone when she called in.’

‘That was not flirting,’ Frank exclaimed, ‘that was just my
usual professionalism…anyway I’m meeting her for a drink tomorrow.’

‘Bloody hell Frank I just can’t keep up with your love
life…oh god,’ Carla broke off covering her nose. ‘She’s not wrong about the
smell though… it’s definitely getting stronger…oh bloody hell that reeks…yep…I
think it’s coming from this one. Looks like the lock’s been broken…’

At an ungodly hour this morning Frank had taken a call from
a worried environmental health officer, a Miss Julia Payne, who was reporting
that several complaints had been made about an awful smell that seemed to be
coming from one of the garages situated in a block behind some flats on the
‘Buttercup’ estate. She had checked out the smell herself but was reluctant to
enter the garages without the police there with her, so Frank had volunteered
to check it out and, intrigued, Carla had decided to tag along. She was
beginning to wish she hadn’t now though as the familiar, almost sweet sickly
smell of death pervaded her nostrils.

The garage door was barely hanging from its hinges and
whatever lock it had once had was now hanging down useless at the side of it.
Frank covered his face against the smell, as he pushed the door to one side and
shone his torch into the darkness.

‘Oh god it’s even worse inside…someone has obviously been
using this place as a toilet…oh gross! Watch where you tread Carla there’s shit
everywhere,’ Frank said dry heaving and coughing.

‘Open that door a bit wider if you can Frank, let’s try and
get some air into this place,’ Carla was fighting against her own nausea, the
stink was so intense that it was making her eyes water.

Slowly, and carefully they started searching through the piles
of old junk that filled the space. Their search was hampered slightly by just
how much stuff had been rammed into the small space. Old washing machines were
piled high with cardboard boxes holding all sorts of paraphernalia. There
seemed to be piles of old magazines and newspapers some going back as far as
the seventies and assorted pieces of old furniture that had seen better days,
and mixed in with all of it was dirt…almost certainly human. The nearer to the
back of the garage that they got the stronger the smell…but furniture was piled
up so high there that it was almost impossible to get through.

‘I bet this ends up being some dog that’s got himself stuck
and starved to death,’ said Frank, starting to dismantle the furniture pile to
clear a path wide enough for them to squeeze through.

‘Well let’s hope so,’ whispered Carla, ‘this place is giving
me the creeps and I can’t take much more of this stench, it is making me feel
ill.’

Carla wasn’t joking, she could feel her stomach protesting
against the putrid smell, she swallowed hard against hot bile as it rose up in
her throat.

It was definitely worse here though, near to the back of the
garage. Carla lifted a small table out of her way making a narrow path for her
to squeeze through. She edged forward cautiously; it was so dark she could
barely see anything outside the beam of her torch.

Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and
it seemed like the air was sucked out of her lungs as the light from her torch
suddenly touched on something….something shoved right into the corner as far
back as it could go… something that was shining up white in her torch light,
against the dark that surrounded it.

Carla swallowed hard, ‘Frank…over here…I think there’s
something…oh god,’ she finished on a whisper.

Frank clambered his way over near to where Carla stood; and
shone his torch to where she was pointing…stuffed under an old desk right at
the back in a corner was a filthy old rug and protruding out from the bottom of
the rug, white, almost luminous in the beam of Carla’s torch, was a tiny foot.

‘Shit,’ was all that Frank said, before getting on his radio
and calling for assistances and forensics.

She was such a tiny little thing…naked and curled up in a
tight little ball. Not much more than a baby…just beginning life. Carla felt
hot tears burning at the back of her eyes she blinked them away and focused on
the job in hand. There was silence in the filthy old lock up…there had been
ever since the rug had given up its dreadful contents, forensics got on with
their job quietly and respectfully, everyone was affected by the tiny body of
the girl in the rug.

‘She’s been here a couple of weeks at least,’ Dorothy said
quietly coming over to where Carla stood, ‘there’s already quite a bit of
maggot infestation which might make it hard to identify her.’

‘Well she’s a child, so someone must have noticed she’s
missing, even in this shit hole,’ Frank muttered grimly, ‘any idea how she died?’

Dorothy shook her head, ‘Well there’s a nasty injury to the
side of her head, and there appears to be some sign of bruising around her
neck, although it’s difficult to tell because of the extent of the
deterioration…but that could point to strangulation,’ she paused and turned to
Carla, ‘from first impressions and without moving her I would say that there
has been some sort of anal penetration though, definite outward signs of
tearing, not a lot of blood though, so could be post mortem…obviously I can’t
be certain until I’ve done the PM…’

‘For fucks sake,’ said Frank in disgust, ‘she doesn’t look
older than about three or four…fucks sake.’

Carla just nodded grimly, and moved outside the lock up.

Once outside she took a few deep breaths of cool air and
tried to pull herself together. This was her first experience of child murder;
she handled a few child abductions before but thankfully the children had all
been found safe and, if not well, at least alive. Looking down at the remains
of that little girl, it had taken all her strength not to break down and sob at
the cruelty and depravity of it all.

No time for all that sentimentality though, she had a job to
do.

‘Frank, doesn’t she seem familiar to you…’ Carla asked as
Frank joined her outside, ‘I’m sure I know who she is I just can’t quite put a
name to her.’

Frank shook his head, ‘No sorry…I don’t know her and to be
honest I don’t think I’d be able to recognise her even if I did.’

‘Right,’ went on Carla after thinking for a moment, ‘we need
to start trawling missing persons, and we need to get hold of social services,
see who’s on their at risk files. Can you get Sam and Midge knocking on doors
round here, anybody noticed anything, someone hanging round these garages
maybe, or a child that’s usually around, not around anymore?’

Frank wandered off to speak to Sam and Midge; Carla got on
her radio and spoke to DC Mandy Hopkins who was surprised to be called so early
and was obviously still only half awake.

‘Mandy I need you to find out who made the calls about the
smell in the garage block, see if they know who actually owns the garage. Also
can you access any of the CCTV cameras within a hundred yard radius of the lock
up…yes its near Haversham Drive, round the back of Chatsworth House…yeh
‘Buttercup’…thanks love…oh pretty grim…yeh dreadful actually, right I’ll see
you when I get in…and get a strong coffee ok I need you bright eyed and bushy
tailed for this one…ok, see you later.’

Carla and the other various police officers and forensic
team watched in silence as the mortuary van arrived and the little girl still
wrapped in the rug was taken away. There was nothing more Carla could do, so
she drove back to the station to try and plan her next move.

As expected Carla’s new DCI, Chief Inspector Bob Riley was
awaiting her arrival and called her into his office as soon as she got back.

‘Okay what have we got Carla?’ he asked motioning for her to
sit down.

Carla sat in the chair opposite him and placed her hands on
the desk, ‘The body of a child has been found in a garage in the centre of the
‘Buttercup’ estate sir. Several calls were received by the local council’s
environmental heath dept. yesterday, reporting a smell coming from the garage
block immediately behind some flats. One of their officers attended very early
this morning and found the source of the smell pretty quickly, she phoned us,
or rather Frank…um DS Frank Hill sir, it was coming from one particular garage.
Suspecting that there was something dead inside the garage she thought that
rather than going into the garage herself she should have the police do it. So
at about 6.40 am DS Hill and I went to the garage block and after searching
through the garage we found the body, wrapped in an old rug. We then called
forensics. It’s a little girl sir, Dorothy’s putting her age at about 3 or 4,
she’s been dead for at least two weeks according to Dorothy and the body’s not
in great shape, but I don’t believe it will be hard to find out who she is.
Someone has got to have noticed a child missing for that long, schools
playgroups…there’s an injury to her head and bruising round her throat…looks
like she might have been sexually assaulted as well sir,’ finished Carla with a
sigh.

DCI Bob Riley didn’t reply for a moment or two, he got up
and walked over to the window with his back to Carla, staring out at the
village green over which his office looked.

He was a very average man, Carla thought as she waited for
him to speak…she’d put his age at about 45 maybe 50, average height, average
weight, thinning light brown hair which he kept extremely short and a very
forgettable face. Which was probably why he had worked so hard to get himself a
reputation on the force as a hard man, a man that you crossed at your peril.

He turned back to Carla, ’You’ve contacted social services I
presume?’

‘Um yes sir, I am waiting to hear back, and we’ve contacted
all the local head teachers…to see if they have had any children missing from
school…all the usual suspects…child sex offenders, etc. are being checked as to
their whereabouts…’

‘Good, good,’ said Riley sitting back down, he leaned
forward towards Carla as he spoke, ‘shouldn’t be surprised at anything that
happens on that estate should we?’ he tutted and then smiled resignedly at
Carla. ‘If I had to guess though I would say that this is probably some junkie
mother, high on crack, hits her child too hard, panics…tries to hide her body
in one of the lock ups. Too bloody dumb to realise that it’s going to smell to
high heaven after a few weeks…body’s found…tragic, tragic…but all too common
these days eh Carla?’

‘Yes tragic sir…but then there’s the matter of sexual
interference…’

‘Any traces of semen?’

‘I’m not sure yet sir, we’ll know more after the PM.’

‘Of course, of course…well keep me posted on this one Carla,
I’m going to have the press breathing down my neck as soon as they get a whiff
of a dead child, pardon my pun,’ he gave a short laugh at his own unintentional
joke, ‘anyway be good to have something to tell them sooner rather than later.’

Carla had obviously been dismissed so she stood and left the
office. She wasn’t sure what she thought about DCI Riley yet, but she hadn’t
been impressed with his attitude, which had showed a lack of any sensitivity,
or his theory. It had almost felt as if he was trying to push her into a
definite line of enquiry and Carla didn’t like being pushed, she would make her
own mind up thank you very much.

Frank was in her office when she got back there, sitting
behind her desk, eating her bloody Kit Kat.

‘Oy!’ she said whacking him round the head with the file she
was carrying. ‘That was my breakfast …and get out of my chair.’

‘Oops sorry,’ said Frank getting up, looking anything but
repentant, ‘I’ll buy you a muffin from the canteen ok?’

‘Bloody better,’ Carla said sitting down and putting her
head in her hands. It had been an awful morning so far and it didn’t look as if
it was going to get any better.

‘So what did he have to say?’ asked Frank pulling up the
other chair.

‘Anxious to have something to give the press, he’ll be on
our backs for this one I suspect,’ said Carla. Frank raised his eyebrows and
pulled a face.

‘What your problem with him Frank?’ Carla asked. ‘He seems
ok, a bit quick to jump to conclusions, and about as sensitive as an ironing
board maybe, but then none of us are perfect are we?’

‘Oh nothing really, I’ve bumped into him a couple of times
over the years, that’s all,’ said Frank dismissively.

‘Yeh, well you obviously have a problem with the man,
anything I should know about?’ asked Carla, Frank just pulled a wry expression
and shook his head.

‘Oh come on…you can’t just start something and not finish
it, that’s just not…’

Carla was interrupted by Mandy, who put her head round the
door, ‘Just spoken to the head at Riddlestone Juniors Ma’am, she wasn’t at all
happy to be woken up so early, but she did say that they had been worried about
the absence of one of the pupils there…Lucy Hunt hasn’t been at school for over
two weeks. According to her mother the girl’s been staying with her aunt in
Chester, but social services have had their concerns.’

‘Oh my god little Lucy, that’s who she is!’ said Carla
mortified. ‘I was sure I knew her, oh that poor little girl, you remember her
Frank…the children in the mini-mart? How the hell did she end up dead in that
garage?’ Carla felt terrible, as though somehow she’d let Lucy down.