The Next Girl: A gripping thriller with a heart-stopping twist

‘What if they’re not his tyre tracks?’ said Wyre. ‘It could’ve been a post van. He could be in there now.’

‘More of a reason to get in there and get Deborah out. We can’t wait for the others. If anything happens to her and we could’ve prevented it, I’ll never forgive myself. You could wait here and let backup know where I am.’ Gina stared into Wyre’s anxious eyes and felt her own apprehension reflecting back at her. Wyre’s neatly pinned hair had escaped and was now blowing freely in the breeze. She wiped a thick strand from her mouth.

Whatever was behind the door wasn’t going to be pleasant, but it may well be the answer to everything. Gina’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt the thinness of her coat and shirt against her breast. She had no stab vest for protection, no truncheon, no pepper spray, no Taser, nothing. It was her, Wyre and whatever situation was waiting behind the door. They were vulnerable, and they both knew it.

‘Wait here,’ Gina said.

‘And let you go in alone? No way. We’re in this together,’ Wyre shouted over the howling of the wind, taking the last few steps towards the barn.

Gina slowed down and crept towards the door. She held her finger to her lips. ‘Don’t make a sound,’ she whispered. She held her ear to the door and listened for any sign of life. A further gust of wind caught the door and it flew open, revealing a metal staircase and a white van.

Wyre gave Gina a glance as she pointed at the vehicle. Gina nodded. The large space behind the van and stairs was filled with tyres, an old dismantled tractor, water butts and a wall-to-wall workbench. General tools adorned the walls, providing plenty of things for spiders to spin their webs on. Gina spotted a petrol can on the floor and wondered if that particular can had been used by Wall to set fire to Luke’s house. The air was thick with the smell of damp. As Gina began the silent walk up the stairs, the stench of human waste hit her. She gagged and turned around. Wyre held her sleeve over her nose.

‘DI Harte and DC Wyre. We’re coming up the stairs,’ she called. She was tempted to walk on in silence, but something told her she needed to call out and listen for a reaction. If Deborah were there, maybe she would call out. Or maybe she’d startle Wall and his movement would reveal where he was. But there wasn’t a sound, apart from the creaking of the main door as it swung back and forth on its hinges. ‘I don’t think they’re here,’ Gina whispered. As the main door banged once more, a gust of wind billowed through the building. Gina grabbed the stair rail as the black spaniel bounded up the stairs, stopping to yap and wag its tail when it reached the top. She exhaled as she continued to the top of the stairs and looked right through the open door and into what she knew had been Deborah’s cell. She held her hand over her nose as she passed the small kitchenette and entered the dark, damp room.

‘Where’s that bastard taken her?’ she yelled as she kicked the doorframe. ‘Where’s he taken her?’

She watched as Wyre continued along the corridor and checked out the other room. ‘There’s an old bathroom here, that’s all, and a cupboard,’ she said as she closed the door. The dog continued barking and jumping around Wyre as she walked.

Gina stared at the filthy quilt and almost wept for Deborah. She removed her hand from her nose. The smell of urine overpowered her, but she didn’t cover her face this time. Deborah had endured the awful conditions and stench for years; she could endure it until the others arrived. She stepped over to the bed and gazed around the room. The only light came from the tiniest air vent, and as the breeze whipped up, it made a clicking noise. Next to the bed, a metal ring was fixed into the concrete floor. Gina shuddered as she thought of Deborah lying in the dirty bed, giving birth in the dirty bed and enduring whatever he forced upon her in the dirty bed. The coldness of the room was beginning to penetrate her clothing. She had no idea how Deborah had survived the winters.

Gina wiped away a tear and exited the room. In the corner of the kitchenette was an open bag of dirty linen. Gina kneeled, catching the stench as she leaned forward. Amongst the mangled sheets were obvious clues that Deborah had given birth a few days ago. All the mess was displayed for her to see. He’d made no attempt to get rid of it. Was she even still alive? There was so much blood and dirt. Maybe he’d taken her body to dispose of her.

‘Why isn’t she here? I was so sure she’d be here,’ said Gina. Wyre stood behind her, mouth slightly open as she surveyed what was in front of them.

Wyre pulled out her phone, and Gina listened as she relayed what they’d found and requested once again that they hurry. They needed a team, and quick. The dog nudged its head under Gina’s arm, seeking affection.

Gina heard the sound of a siren approaching. ‘They’re here,’ she said as she stood. The dog jumped up onto its hind legs and rested its front paws on Gina’s waist. ‘I wish I knew what you’d seen,’ she said, as she gently lifted the dog’s paws and placed them back on the ground before giving the spaniel a final pat on the head. ‘Where’s he taken her?’ He must have known somehow that they were coming. Maybe he’d popped back to his flat and seen the officers guarding his door. What would he do with Deborah? Her mind flashed back to Nicoleta Iliescu. She grabbed her phone and called Briggs. ‘We need to check the waterways for Wall now, and check the fisheries too. We found Nicoleta in the river. He’s probably heading towards water. He knows we’re on to him and he’s cornered.’





Fifty-Six





Was he making her wait on purpose, delighted at the thought of her increasing anxiety? He stopped whistling, and the sound of his lighter flipping open made her flinch. She was jolted a little as he sat on the boot, making the car bounce. She suppressed a cough as she inhaled the cigarette smoke that flooded through the crevices.

‘I gave you everything, but my all wasn’t enough. It was never enough.’ He slammed his hand on the boot. Debbie let out a scream. It was no use pretending to be out of it anymore. He knew she was awake. ‘Mother’s gone too, and guess whose fault it is? If only you’d kept your loud mouth shut. You killed Ma.’ He started gibbering to himself. ‘I know you forgive me, Ma. It’s just Debbie and I and little Florence now, but you won’t be alone for long. We’ll join you and we can all be together.’

She frantically jabbed at the tape with the screwdriver, trying to ignore his ramblings. She flinched as the sharp tip pierced her back.

‘The end has come. We all reach our end one day, and for us, that is today.’ He paused. ‘Our family will go together and we’ll be at peace. One day our story will be a legend. The greatest love story ever told.’

Tears soaked Debbie’s face. These moments, in the boot of his car, were probably going to be her final ones. She trembled violently, almost dropping the screwdriver. By family, did he mean her baby too? Her heart thumped against her ribcage.

She kicked and wriggled, trying to free up any part of her body, but with every movement her energy dwindled. Occasionally the darkness of the boot would spin around, confusing her more. What had he drugged her with? A flash of pain darted through her head.

‘We will never be at peace,’ she yelled. Do you hear me?’

The boot clicked open, and she flinched as the light of the day sent pains shooting though her head. His gaunt face stared down at hers, showing his sickly grin and chipped tooth. ‘You’re angry, but you’ll be fine. I’m going to get Florence after this, and she will join us.’ He took a final drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt onto the rubble.

‘No! I hate you. I’ve always hated you. They won’t give my baby to you.’

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