She swayed as she tried to focus. The world was like a stormy ship and she was battling a storm to stay upright. She stared down at the blanket.
‘I’m going home,’ she said, as she placed one foot in front of the other. She reached the door and pushed it open. Stepping out into what looked like a grey morning, she breathed in the damp air. Air had never smelled so clean after the staleness of urine, excrement, sweat and blood that had filled her life over the past few years. How many years, she couldn’t remember. With each step, pain burned from her groin, stabbing into her lower stomach and kidneys. She flinched as her head pounded to a sickening beat.
The dog barked again. She had to go. She wanted to be with her children, be there on Christmas day and watch them opening their presents. She staggered across the yard, away from the house. Maybe she could hide in the woodland out the back, stagger through the trees and wave for a motorist to stop.
Her cold feet soon became numb to the sharp stones and grit that dug in every time she took a step. She laughed as she staggered forward. She was going home – wherever home was. She was going to her mum and she was going to see her children. She didn’t know if her captor had told her the truth about Luke’s new woman, but it didn’t matter. She just wanted to see him again.
‘I’m going home,’ she repeated with every step.
‘You’re not going anywhere.’ She turned around and saw a needle full of clear fluid in his hand. He stabbed it into her arm and within minutes she was on the floor, seeing double.
Fifty-Two
Gina stared at her computer screen. Photos of Nicoleta Iliescu’s waxy face and body filled her screen. One eye was missing, but the freezing water had mostly preserved her features. The report stated that she had drowned, and the diatoms present confirmed that. Gina flinched and grabbed her coat.
‘O’Connor. What have we got? And make it brief,’ Gina said as she entered the incident room, where O’Connor, Wyre and Jacob were hard at work.
‘There are five farms left to investigate. None of them have been matched to Jeffrey Wall. About the farms. Three of them produce asparagus. The closest one is run by a Mr and Mrs Wallis. They’ve had the farm for over twenty years, live there with their five teenage children. Second one belongs to a Trevor Tucker. Trevor is in his sixties and barely produces anything. He’s a sixth-generation farmer. No children and lives alone. Last one on the asparagus list is Julia Benson. Julia is in her seventies and the farm is no longer a working one and the land isn’t being farmed anymore. She lives alone and ran the farm for many years before retiring about fifteen years ago. The other two produce fruit. A couple in their twenties, Sophie and Will Stanton, run one. They have a little shop where they sell jams and chutneys et cetera. They’ve only been there about a year and have twin girls aged four. Finally, there’s a chap called Joseph Gittins. He’s in his fifties and the farm is still fully operational as he has staff. He’s never been married and lives alone. We cross-referenced the results from the vets and none of them are registered as owning a black dog.’
‘Great work.’ Gina picked up the list and gazed at the names. ‘Right, you and Driscoll can visit the Stanton’s, Mr Gittins and Mr Tucker. Wyre and I will head to see Mr and Mrs Wallis and Ms Benson. If you catch sight of a dog with black fur, call it in immediately. It might not be registered with a vet. We’re also looking for a white van, any suspicious activity and outbuildings. Keep your eyes and ears open at all times. Deborah’s life may depend on us doing a good job today.’
‘Yes, guv.’ Jacob nodded.
‘One more thing. Wall is dangerous – remember that. For those who weren’t there, whilst searching Wall’s flat, we found a photo driving licence belonging to a Nicoleta Iliescu. From this photo and the autopsy report detailing the cadaver’s age and the fact that she had a previously broken nose, we believe there is a high possibility that this woman is the body we discovered in the river just after Deborah’s disappearance. We need Wall in custody now. I want to know exactly what happened to Nicoleta and I want Deborah brought home safe.’
O’Connor stood and put his coat on. ‘Let’s go.’ Jacob grabbed his car keys off the desk and followed him out.
‘I’ve printed the addresses out for the Wallis and Benson farms. Where first?’ Wyre asked.
They weren’t looking for a couple. What could their suspect have to do with a couple? Unless he was residing in a part of their estate that was unused. Or maybe he rented a lockup or another type of storage unit from them. Their investigation into the farms hadn’t thrown up any storage rental activity but she also knew farming worked on tight margins and subsidies didn’t always cover their needs. Maybe they were renting out some space for a cash sum.
Then there was Julia Benson, a woman of mature years, living alone. Maybe Wall had befriended her and was using some sort of space on her land. Due to her age, her senses may not be quite as sharp as they could be. If that were the case, Wall might be able to falsely imprison a woman on her land. Perhaps she wasn’t very mobile, making parts of her estate impossible to check. Gina had noticed that O’Connor had found very little information on Ms Benson when he’d compiled the notes. She’d lived at the farm for over fifty years and had never married. There was barely anything about her on record. ‘We’ll start with Julia Benson.’
‘Good move,’ said Wyre. ‘Although, I’m wondering if the other two will find anything on their visits. Mr Gittins, man living alone in his fifties. Plenty of farmland. Possibly in cahoots with Wall.’
Gina felt her heart rate speed up as adrenalin pumped through her body. Today might be the day. She had to find Deborah. Reuniting this wife, daughter and mother to her family was all she wanted. Christmas was fast looming. If anyone deserved a good ending, it was the Jenkinses.
‘If we find her, things will never be the same again for the family,’ said Wyre. ‘How do you get over years of captivity and pick up where you left off? How as a husband do you fix things? How as children do you attempt to feel close to someone you can’t remember that well? How as a mother do you look at your child and not think about what she went through? How long does that take to subside?’ Wyre looked down and placed her hand on her forehead.
Gina placed her arm on the young woman’s shoulder. ‘I know we all put a face on when we deal with awful cases, but we’re human at the end of the day.’
Cold air blew through the door as Smith walked in. ‘I’ve left one of the team outside Wall’s flat. You know you’re using up all our PCs on sentry duty and tracking your perp? We have drunks in the cells that need processing and barely anyone to do the paperwork. I don’t know how long we can offer this level of support for, I mean, we can’t—’
Grabbing the address list, Gina did up her coat and brushed past Smith. ‘We’re on it now. I’m really sorry, but we’re all under-resourced. We have worked all night and now we are working all day. O’Connor has been called in early. It’s the way things are. I wish it wasn’t like this but I don’t know what to say. All I can say is that this man is dangerous and we need to find him. We need your support.’
Smith exhaled and stepped aside. ‘I know, it’s getting to us all. Lack of staff, lack of everything. We haven’t even got any bog roll in the men’s,’ he said with a smile. ‘It’s bad when you have to bring your own bog roll in.’
Gina smiled. ‘I wish we had more, I really do, but, this is the way things are at the moment.’
‘Just go. We’ll back you up with everything we have. I’m heading down to the drunk tank to deal with the piss and vomit. Could be here all day and all night too at this rate. Go and find him and bring her home. We may gripe but we’re all rooting for Deborah’s safe return.’
‘Julia Benson’s it is then. Let’s go,’ Wyre said as they left the incident room.
Fifty-Three