Eyes of the Wicked Page 15

  “Is she working the Tanya Ward case now?” The last Dani had known, DS Morgan had been working the Abigail Newton case under DCI Cormoran.

  “She’s joined Murder Force,” he said. “Gallow recruited her on my suggestion. She’s a good copper.”

  The lift opened and they got off.

  “Do you think I could suggest DS Matt Flowers?” she asked.

  “Yes, I don’t see why not. You’d best get in there quick, though. Since Gallow’s appearance on breakfast telly, he’s had applications coming in from all over the country.” He raised an eyebrow again. “That goes for you too. If you want to be a part of this team, you’d better make a move soon. I don’t want to lose you because of numbers.”

  She nodded, making a decision. “When I recommend Matt, I’m also going to tell Gallow that I’m in.”

  His face broke into a grin. “Excellent!”

  They made their way to the Audio-Visual Room. The room was lined with computers and machines that analysed old-fashioned tapes and other media. Sitting at one of the computers was a young fair-haired technician Dani had seen around the building a few times but didn’t know.

  When he saw Battle and Dani, he looked up from the screen and said with a grin, “Hi, I’m Chris Toombs. I’ll be your technician today.”

  “DCI Battle and DI Summers,” Battle said. “Have you got that footage ready for us?”

  “It’s all cued up,” Toombs said. He gestured to the wheeled office chairs that were dotted around the room. “Grab a seat for the special Christmas Day showing.”

  “Are you the technician who showed this to the Missing Persons team recently?” Battle asked, wheeling a chair over to Dani and finding one for himself. They sat behind the tech and the screen that currently showed a grainy black and white image of a car park with a time stamp in the top right corner.

  “No, that was my colleague,” Toombs said. “Unlike me, he had the good sense to take today off. If this snowfall continues, we’ll all be stuck here until the new year.”

  Battle gestured to the screen. “All right, let’s have a look.”

  Toombs pointed at the time stamp on the screen. “You’re interested in seeing the car park after the Volkswagen Beetle arrives, right?”

  “That’s right,” Battle said.

  “Okay, we’ve got the vehicle arriving at 5:52 p.m.” He hit the keyboard and the image on the screen came to life, showing Tanya Ward’s Beetle driving into view. The car stopped at the far end of the car park and Tanya got out. She locked the vehicle and walked out of the shot.

  “What speed do you want me to play this at?” Toombs asked. “If we watch it in real-time, we’ll be here for hours.”

  “I just want to know if anyone goes near that car,” Battle said.

  “Okay,” Toombs said. “Let’s just do this.” He pressed a key and the footage sped up considerably.

  Dani kept her eyes glued to the Beetle. A couple of other vehicles came and went but none of the vehicles parked near Tanya’s car.

  Until 6:32 showed on the rapidly changing time stamp.

  A white van entered the car park and came to a stop near Tanya’s car, obscuring the camera’s view of the Beetle.

  “Stop!” Battle shouted.

  Toombs jumped as if he’d been woken up from a daydream. He hit the keyboard and the image froze.

  “What the hell is that?” Battle said.

  “A van,” Toombs offered.

  “I know it’s a van. It’s parked between the camera and Tanya’s car. Rewind the tape. I want to see that van come in again.”

  The technician rewound the footage to the moment the van entered the car park. Battle leaned forward towards the screen and Dani found herself doing the same thing. She wanted to see who was in that van.

  “I can’t see any details of the person driving it,” Battle said gruffly. “How about you, Summers?”

  “Nothing, guv.”

  Battle sighed. “All right, wind it on. Perhaps we’ll see him when he gets out.”

  Toombs let the tape play at normal speed. The van parked next to Tanya Ward’s Volkswagen Beetle, blocking it from the camera’s view.

  The driver’s door opened, and someone got out. He walked out of shot, head down, face hidden beneath the brim of a baseball cap. He was holding a box in his hands.

  “He’s aware of the camera,” she said. “That means he’s probably been there before.”

  “And he knows just where to park his van to hide the Beetle,” Battle said. “Right, let’s see what he does when he comes back out.”

  By the time the mysterious figure reappeared into view of the camera, the time stamp read 6:39. His head was still lowered, and he no longer had the box. He disappeared again, this time around the opposite side of the van, the side where Tanya Ward’s Beetle was parked.

  “This is it,” Battle said. “He could be doing anything behind there. How the hell did Missing Persons miss this?”

  It wasn’t until the time stamp read 6:53 that the driver got back into the van and drove away.

  “Can you get the van’s plate?” Battle asked Toombs. “Enhance it or something?”

  Toombs raised his hands from the keyboard and shrugged. “I’ll try but the original video is so bad, there’s nothing to enhance. Besides, I don’t think the number plate is in shot.” He rewound and fast-forwarded the images. When the van entered and left the car park, the number plate was below the lower edge of the image.

  “Who the hell positioned that camera?” Battle asked no one in particular. “Summers, I didn’t see any markings on the van. No company name or logo. Did you?”

  “No, Guv.”

  “What about you?” the DCI asked Toombs.

  “No, sir. But most delivery drivers these days don’t have company logos on their vans. They use their own vehicles as part of a logistics network. You know, like the people who bring Amazon parcels.”

  Battle spun his chair to face Dani. “There must be a record of that delivery at Larkmoor House. We need to find it.”

  “Don’t you want to see the rest of this?” Toombs asked, gesturing to the screen. “There might be something else the other team missed.”

  “If there is, they all need the sack.” Battle turned back to the screen. “Right, play the rest on high speed.”

  Toombs played through the rest of the tape. As evening became night, the Larkmoor House car park became quiet. After a while, no other vehicles entered or left. Tanya’s Volkswagen Beetle sat undisturbed at the far end of the car park until Tanya appeared at 2:03 a.m. and got behind the wheel.

  She drove out of the gate and into the night.

  Never to be seen again, Dani thought, until she turned up crucified in a barn three days later.

  “Thanks for your help.” Battle said. He got out of his seat and gestured to the door. “Come on, we’re going to Larkmoor House.”

  Dani followed him out, nodding her thanks to Toombs on the way out of the room. He gave her an acknowledging wave.

  Battle marched to the lift and jabbed the call button. His face was dark as he looked at Dani and said. “If Tanya died because Missing Persons missed that van, I’ll bloody throttle them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Battle had suggested they each take their own cars to Larkmoor House instead of leaving one at the station and with his mood being what it currently was, Dani saw no need to argue. So she followed his Range Rover along the snowy roads to the mental hospital in the middle of nowhere.

  It was still snowing, and the constant whirr of the windscreen wipers did little to help her headache.

  The more she thought about the man in the CCTV footage, the more certain she was that he was familiar with Larkmoor House and Tanya Ward. He knew where the camera was and how to use his van to hide Tanya’s car from it and he also knew which car Tanya drove.

  Unless he had sabotaged a random car and then waited on the road outside to abduct a random victim—which seemed highly unlikely—Tanya
had been targeted. The killer had some connection with her.

  That had turned out tragically for Tanya but was good from a police point of view. A connection could be discovered and unravelled.

  Dani knew that was why Battle hadn’t simply called Larkmoor House and asked them about the delivery on the evening of Tanya’s disappearance; the place was important, and he wanted to be there in person to ask the question.

  If only the weather had been better. The snow reminded her of the sun pendant around her neck and she smiled. She wondered what Charlie was doing now and decided she was probably meeting all of Elliot’s relatives.

  When they got to Larkmoor House, Battle parked his Range Rover in the same spot the white van had occupied on the CCTV footage. Dani parked her Land Rover next to it and got out.

  The wind came whistling off the moors, icy and harsh. She and Battle bowed their heads against it and trudged through the snow to the hospital’s entrance door.

  “Maybe this is why his head was lowered, guv” she suggested. “It could have been windy that night.”

  He guffawed. “Yeah, that’s what he wants us to think.”

  As they passed beneath the camera positioned over the door, Dani looked back at the place where Battle’s Range Rover was parked. The killer had walked this same short distance from his van to this door. Unfortunately, he’d been wearing gloves—even the grainy CCTV footage had made that clear—so there was no point dusting the door handle and examining the hundreds of prints that were sure to be lifted from it.

  Battle’s phone rang. He answered it as he pushed through the door into Reception. “Battle.” His face fell as he listened to whatever he was being told. Then he said, “Are there any witnesses? Did anyone see anything?” He listened, nodded, and said, “Thanks, we’ll be there soon.”

  He hung up and looked at Dani. “A woman and her daughter have gone missing from a village near here.”

  Dani’s heart dropped.

  “A white van was seen in the area,” Battle said.

  She nodded. The killer had struck again.

  A middle-aged woman in a nurse’s uniform sat behind the reception desk. She smiled when she saw Battle and Dani. “Good morning and merry Christmas!”

  Battle flashed his warrant card at her. “DCI Battle and DI Summers. We’re investigating the murder of Tanya Ward. I’d like to ask you some questions about a delivery that was made here on the night she disappeared.”

  The nurse frowned. “A delivery? I’m afraid I don’t normally work on Reception. I’m only covering for Maureen because she’s off today. I don’t know anything about a delivery.”

  Battle pursed his lips. “There must be some kind of record somewhere. Do visitors log in when they arrive?”

  She nodded. “Visitors, yes, but not deliveries. There’d be no need for a delivery driver to sign in because they wouldn’t be going into the hospital. We take the deliveries here and then they’re on their way again. It’s all very quick.”

  Except it hadn’t been quick, Dani thought. According to the time stamp on the CCTV, the van driver had been in here for about five minutes.

  “Are there any delivery drivers that know the staff?” Battle asked. “Chat with them? That kind of thing?” Obviously, he’d picked up on the time stamp thing as well.

  The nurse shrugged. “As I said, I wouldn’t know. I usually work in the hospital with the patients, not out here. You’d have to ask Maureen or Deirdre. They’re our receptionists.”

  “And they’re both off today?” Battle asked.

  She nodded. “It’s Christmas.”

  “Do you know who was working on this desk the night Tanya Ward disappeared?”

  “The receptionists don’t work at night,” she said. “They go home at eight.”

  “Fine,” Battle said. “I’m interested in who was sitting in that seat you’re sitting in now at 6:32 on the evening Tanya Ward went missing.”

  “Maureen,” she said. “Maureen Williams.”

  The DCI sighed. “Do you have a home address for Maureen?”

  “A home address? No, I wouldn’t have that.”

  “A phone number, then.”

  She hesitated and then said, “Yes, I have her number.”

  “Then I’d like you to ring Maureen and tell her that we need her address. We need to speak to her.”

  “Today?” she asked, a surprised look on her face.

  “Yes, today,” Battle said evenly. Dani could tell he was trying to suppress his frustration.

  “But it’s Christmas,” the nurse said.

  “Listen to me,” Battle said, leaning over the counter. “A woman and a girl are missing. Their lives are at stake. Call Maureen now or give me the number and I’ll do it myself.”

  “I’ll call her,” she said, picking up the phone. She pulled a sheet of paper across the desk towards her and consulted it as she dialled. “She left her number in case of emergencies,” she told Battle while she waited for her call to be picked up. “You know, in case I didn’t know where the paperclips were or something.”

  “Maureen, “the nurse said cheerily into the phone. “Merry Christmas! How are Don and the kids? Good. Yes, it’s always best when they’re younger. They appreciate it so much more. And they still believe in Santa Claus, of course.”

  Battle turned away from the counter, casting his eyes to the heavens as if asking for the patience he needed to stop himself jumping over the counter and snatching the phone from the nurse’s hand.

  “Listen, the police are here,” she said, her voice becoming more serious. “They want to talk to you. I know, that’s what I told them, but they’re quite insistent. So if you could let me know your address, I’ll pass it on to them. I don’t know, I’ll ask.” She covered the mouthpiece and whispered to Battle, “What time are you going around there?”

  “Immediately,” Battle said.

  “Straight away, apparently,” she said into the phone. “Ok, love, I’ve got a pen.” She ripped a yellow Post-It note from a pad and wrote on it. Got it. Thanks, Maureen. Yes, everything’s going fine. It’s been quite busy, plenty of visitors—“

  Battle reached over the counter and plucked the Post-It from where the nurse had stuck it to her desk. He read it and said to Dani, “She lives in Haxby.”

  “Not too far from here,” she said. “We should be there in a couple of minutes.”

  He nodded. “Good. I’ll follow you. Then we need to get over to Tarnby and find out what the situation is with the missing woman and girl.”

  They went back outside, leaving the nurse chatting on the phone.

  As Dani climbed into her Land Rover, the immensity of what she’d just learned struck her. Somewhere, a mother and daughter were in the clutches of a killer and it was up to her and her colleagues to save them.

  Battle would be pulling everyone back to work from their day off. It would be all hands on deck until the case was closed.

  Christmas was over.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Samuel, wake up.” His mother was banging on his bedroom door with her fists.

  He sat up in bed and looked around the room with bleary eyes. “I’m awake!”

  “Well come down for breakfast. You can’t sleep the day away. It’s Christmas.”

  He heard her go back downstairs and he closed his eyes again. His body ached all over and sleep hadn’t swept away the exhaustion he felt. Getting the woman and the girl into the bunker last night hadn’t been easy, even with the shotgun to control them. He’d worked hard. He deserved a lie in.

  But he knew that his mother wouldn’t stop bothering him, so he slid out of bed, pulled a black T-shirt over his head and pulled his jeans on. Then he went down to the kitchen, where she was cooking breakfast.

  Deciding not to risk the bacon, some of which she’d somehow managed to burn to a crisp while other pieces looked almost raw, he opened the cupboard and took out a packet of cornflakes.

  When she saw him pouring them into a bowl
, she pouted. “I’m making a special Christmas Day breakfast for us.”

  “I’m not very hungry,” he said, adding milk and sugar to the cornflakes while eyeing the sausages sizzling in the frying pan. He wondered if they were raw inside. Maybe she’d get food poisoning and die, saving him a job.

  He sat at the table and chewed on the cornflakes while his mother plated up the sausages and bacon, along with some pale poached eggs.

  She sat at the table and began to eat. Samuel finished his cereal quickly and got out of his chair . He had to check on the bunker and its two new occupants.

  He wondered if he should take them some food but decided there was no point. The last time, he’d wasted time with the girl, keeping her for weeks before he’d captured Tanya. He’d hesitated, trying to put off what he had to do. This time, he was going to act quickly. No need to feed anyone when it would all be over soon for them. Besides, they had water; he’d left a gallon container down there for them.

  “I’m going out to feed the hens,” he said.

  His mother sighed. “They can wait. Come and have breakfast with me. It’s Christmas. God will know if you don’t treat your mother well on Christmas Day.”

  Her words set his anger alight. He remembered Christmas time ten years ago. How could she be so hypocritical to say that? He wanted to scream at her, “What about treating your daughter well? You killed her! You killed Ruth!” He imagined picking up the cereal bowl he’d just placed in the sink and smashing it into her face. Then, while she was still reeling from the shock, he’d grab the kitchen knife and slash and slash…

  “The hens are God’s creatures too,” he said without a trace of emotion betrayed in his voice. “They need to be fed or they’ll die.”

  He slipped his feet into his boots and took his jacket off the hook, leaving the house before she could protest.

  The cold wind bit at him as he walked to the barn, but he liked the sensation on his skin. It made him feel numb.

  When he got to the barn, he tossed some feed onto the ground for the hens. They pecked at it and squabbled among themselves as he watched them for a few minutes.