Class Murder Read online

  In the pale moonlight it was just about possible to make out a faint mist hovering above the water. Beth was glad of it. The worse the visibility, the less chance there was that someone would witness her disposing of the gun. It would disappear beneath the surface of the canal with barely a ripple. She glanced around but there was no sign of movement. In the summer people often strolled along the tow path between bridges, but on a cold winter’s evening no one would be taking a walk there. Only someone with a specific reason to visit the canal might discover her. Not only was the place deserted, but the path was out of sight from passing cars. In addition to the mist hovering over the water, the canal was set apart from the road by a grassy plot bordered by trees. The branches might be bare but in the darkness she would be invisible from the road. She took a few steps along the tow path, away from the village.

  Stopping, she gazed down at the water, shimmering darkly in the moonlight. There was no sign of the ducks that swam around on the canal in warmer weather. She wondered if they migrated to a milder climate in the winter. Their absence made the place feel lonely. It wasn’t a great stretch of the imagination to picture herself as the only creature left alive on the planet after an apocalyptic disaster. If she carried on scaring herself like this, she would end up even more disturbed than Leah. She had heard that mental illness could be contagious. Certainly other people’s moods affected the way she felt, and Leah could hardly have been more agitated lately.

  With a shiver, Beth dismissed her miserable thoughts. The spooky setting by the black water was making her scared. In a few minutes she would be back on the main street, nipping into the pub over the road for a quick drink before setting off home. Leah was going to be annoyed with her for going out anyway, as if it was any of her business what Beth did with her time. An extra half hour or so wouldn’t make any difference, and Beth deserved a drink after what Leah had put her through. Leah had told her she had spent a lot of money on the gun. More fool her. It served her right that she was going to lose it. This horrible situation Beth found herself in was entirely Leah’s fault.

  In the silence, the click when she undid the clasp on her bag was startlingly loud. As she opened the bag, she hesitated. Another noise had caught her attention, as though someone had drawn in a breath nearby. She listened intently.

  Silence.

  ‘Who’s there?’ she called out in a voice that trembled, even though she was alone. ‘Is anyone there?’

  Leah’s stupid jitters had upset her more than she had realised. She waited.

  Silence.

  She turned her attention back to her bag, desperate to get this over with quickly before anyone could discover what she was doing. While she fumbled to take the gun out of her bag, she thought she heard a faint footstep, as though someone was approaching quietly. She looked around again but it was impossible to see far in the darkness. She cursed under her breath, realising what was happening.

  ‘You know I can hear you,’ she said. ‘Leah, I know it’s you. Why the hell are you following me? There’s no point. You’re not going to stop me, so you might as well piss off.’

  She knew why Leah had followed her. She wanted her gun back. Shaking with cold and anger, Beth walked further along the path until she was nearly at the next bridge. There was no sound of pursuit. Now that Leah knew Beth had heard her, she might give up trying to retrieve the gun. Beth glanced around, but she couldn’t see her flatmate. Cautiously she drew the gun out of her bag. As she did so, a hand gripped her roughly by the elbow and pulled her backwards so she could neither drop the gun in the water, nor raise her arm to throw it in.

  ‘Let me go!’ she cried out furiously. ‘Leah, this isn’t funny. The gun could go off! What are you doing? Stop it, you idiot.’

  Another hand grabbed her round the face, the palm slapped roughly against her mouth to silence her. She tried to resist, her cries muffled by the hand pressing against her lips. Her eyes flicked frantically from side to side but she couldn’t see far through the thick night air. In the struggle her head twisted round. She caught sight of a man’s face grinning down at her, ghastly in the pale moonlight.

  29

  On Monday morning, Geraldine was pleased to be back at work. Her trip to Kent had been more tiring than she had anticipated and although she had been pleased to see Celia and her family, she had been drained of energy by the time she reached home. It was actually a relief to slip back into the routine tasks that came her way as a sergeant. That afternoon, regardless of her work commitments, she was determined to call the clinic to enquire about Helena. Having made that decision, she settled down to work.

  Eileen had a meeting early on, but late morning the team gathered to discuss the case. Eileen was interested in the possible significance of the two victims having attended the same school, in the same class. Ian still wasn’t convinced that was important.

  ‘They had to go through the education system,’ he pointed out. ‘And coming from the same village, the chances are they would attend the same school.’

  ‘In the same class though? What are the chances of that?’ Geraldine asked.

  Although Eileen agreed with Ian that a lot of local people went to that school, nevertheless she was keen to press on with obtaining DNA from all the people in the victims’ class. While they waited, hoping the forensic team would come up with a lead, there were reports to write and procedures to follow. Geraldine was quietly getting on with her job, trying not to worry about Helena, when she received a message about a hysterical call from Leah.

  ‘Please repeat that,’ Geraldine said.

  As soon as she put the phone down she went to advise Eileen about this new development.

  Eileen drew in a sharp breath and looked helplessly at Geraldine. ‘Sweet Jesus, don’t tell me there’s going to be another one. Do you think something’s happened to Beth?’

  ‘All Leah said was that Beth went out yesterday evening and didn’t come home. There could be all sorts of reasons why a young woman might stay out all night.’

  ‘You’d best get over there as quickly as possible and see what’s really going on. Let’s hope Beth will have turned up by the time you get there.’

  Geraldine seemed to be spending a lot of time on the road, but she didn’t mind. Once she left York the countryside was beautiful, even in the bleak winter, and it was better than being stuck in traffic in London.

  An anxious voice responded when she rang the bell, calling to her through the door. ‘Who is it?’

  Geraldine answered, giving her name and rank. ‘Detective Sergeant’ rolled off her lips without any hesitation.

  The door opened slightly and Geraldine saw the chain was on.

  ‘Show me your identity card!’

  Geraldine held it up. A moment later the door was opened by a plump girl who had clearly been crying.

  ‘You called us about Beth,’ Geraldine began.

  ‘Yes, yes, come in. Beth’s not here. It’s just me, on my own.’

  ‘When do you expect her back?’

  Leah let out a sob. ‘She should be here now, but she didn’t come home last night. We had a row and she went off in a huff leaving me here alone.’

  ‘Do you know where she is?’

  Leah shook her head. Geraldine couldn’t tell if she was genuinely worried about her flatmate, or just concerned about her own situation.

  ‘No, I told you, she’s buggered off and left me, in spite of everything that’s going on. She knows I don’t feel safe here on my own. I thought you might have come here to talk about offering us police protection,’ she added plaintively.

  ‘Police protection?’

  ‘Yes. We need protection from the killer. He’s already killed two of our class at school.’

  Geraldine wasn’t surprised to learn that Leah had been thinking along those lines. But before she engaged in any discussion of Leah’s situation, she wan
ted to find out what had happened to Beth.

  ‘Where did she go?’

  Leah looked sulky. ‘I told you, I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. She went off in a huff.’

  ‘Why in a huff?’

  Leah shrugged. ‘We had a row yesterday evening and she went out and she hasn’t been back since. And before you ask me again, I don’t know where she went. She didn’t tell me. She probably met some guy in the pub and went home with him. She does that all the time. And when I called her to tell her to come back, she wouldn’t answer her phone. That’s what she’s like when she gets in a mood. She knows I don’t want to be here at night on my own, especially without…’ she broke off abruptly. ‘Without anyone else here,’ she concluded.

  Geraldine had the impression she had been about to say something else.

  ‘Can you call her now and ask her where she is?’

  Leah tried but Beth didn’t answer.

  ‘What did you argue about?’

  Leah frowned and muttered something about having fallen out with Beth, without attempting to explain why. When Geraldine pressed her, she became tearful. She was upset, but more than that she seemed frightened.

  ‘It was nothing,’ she insisted, ‘just a stupid row, but now she’s gone off and she’s refusing to answer my calls and I’m stuck here on my own.’

  Geraldine asked again about the cause of the argument.

  ‘It’s none of your business what we argued about,’ Leah said at last, with a flash of temper.

  Increasingly bothered, Geraldine questioned her about her flatmate’s movements. If Beth really had disappeared, that raised all sorts of questions. None of the possibilities that occurred to Geraldine were reassuring.

  ‘Please, Leah, it’s important that we find her. Can you think where she might have gone?’

  Geraldine could contact Beth’s parents and work colleagues, but Leah was more likely to know who the missing girl might have gone to see. Although she was at pains to avoid worrying Leah, she was already thinking of her flatmate as a missing girl.

  ‘Which pub did she go to yesterday?’ she asked.

  ‘What? Are you going to go there and ask who she was with?’

  Geraldine nodded. That was exactly what she was planning to do. If Beth had gone home with a man she had met up with in the pub, it should be relatively easy to track her movements. But when Geraldine’s own phone rang, she answered it with a sinking feeling that she might not need to spend time searching for Beth after all.

  ‘As it happens, I’m already in Uppermill,’ she said when Ian had finished speaking. ‘I’ll be right there.’

  ‘What are you doing in Uppermill?’

  ‘I’ve been talking to Leah.’

  ‘What does she have to say?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I see you.’ She rang off and turned to Leah. ‘I have to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow. In the meantime, try not to worry.’ It was a futile comment, in the circumstances.

  She wanted to leave at once, before Leah had a chance to ask her what had happened. It wasn’t so much that she was reluctant to have to deal with an emotional outburst from Leah, but rather that she was keen to speak to the girl who had found Beth’s bag as soon as possible. With every moment that passed, her memories would become hazier. A forensic team had already been despatched to examine the site where the bag had been discovered. The sooner they could examine the scene, the better their chances of finding out exactly what had taken place before any evidence deteriorated further. With what could be a crime scene exposed to winter conditions, every moment’s delay was significant. A diving team were on standby if the go-ahead was given to dredge the canal.

  ‘Something’s happened to her, hasn’t it?’ Leah blurted out as Geraldine stood up. ‘What’s going to happen now? Who’s going to keep me company if Beth doesn’t come home?’

  Ignoring Leah’s bleating, Geraldine hurried from the room. After all, the best way she could protect Leah was by finding out what had happened to her flatmate. Only when she was at the front door did she stop to warn Leah to keep the chain on the door. Slamming it behind her, she checked it was properly closed and was reassured to hear the chain being slid across.

  30

  Beth’s bag had been handed in to the local police station by a girl called Sarah Byrne who lived in a terraced house just off the main road in Uppermill. Geraldine went straight to her house. A man of around forty opened the door and smiled easily as he ushered her in out of the cold.

  ‘Was it you that spoke to me on the phone?’

  ‘That’s right. About a bag handed in to the police by your daughter.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Sarah!’ he called out to his daughter as he closed the front door. ‘There’s a policewoman here to see you. My daughter will be very excited to meet you,’ he added, still smiling.

  A moment later a girl of about twelve came galloping down the stairs. Catching sight of Geraldine, she halted halfway down the stairs and turned to her father.

  ‘Who’s she?’

  He laughed. ‘She was expecting to see a uniformed police officer,’ he told Geraldine. ‘It must be something important to bring you here,’ he added.

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you both, but this is just routine,’ Geraldine lied. ‘Sarah, I want you to tell me exactly what happened when you found the bag.’

  The young girl hesitated and looked at father who nodded encouragingly at her.

  ‘I was there with my dad, but it was me that found it. He would’ve walked straight past it.’ She glanced at her father again.

  ‘I met Sarah from school and we were walking back together. I work from home,’ he added, with an embarrassed shrug.

  Geraldine guessed he was out of work.

  ‘I have to come home along the main road if I’m on my own,’ Sarah explained, ‘but when dad meets me we take a short cut along the canal path.’

  Geraldine nodded. ‘So you were walking along the canal path,’ she prompted Sarah. ‘What happened then?’

  ‘Yes, and dad was going on about homework and stuff and I was just looking at the water. But it’s boring, except in spring.’

  ‘She likes watching the ducklings,’ Mr Byrne explained.

  ‘They’re so cute!’ Sarah cried out, suddenly animated.

  Geraldine waited patiently. Finally the girl reached the point in her narrative where she had stumbled on the bag.

  ‘It was just there,’ she said, ‘lying in the mud. I’m not surprised no one had seen it. I almost didn’t see it and I’ve got really good eyesight, haven’t I, dad?’

  ‘Yes, you have.’

  Gently Geraldine pressed her to describe exactly where she had found it and learned that the bag had been lying right by the water’s edge. The immediate concern was that Beth had fallen in the canal, but until the area had been examined by scene of crime officers there was no way of knowing whether that was true. If it was, forensic examination of the scene would establish whether she had slipped or been pushed.

  ‘Do you think she fell in the canal?’ Sarah asked, wide-eyed.

  ‘We don’t know what happened to her,’ Geraldine replied. ‘But we’re hoping she’s fine, and I’m sure she’ll be pleased to get her bag back.’

  After reporting her findings, Geraldine drove through the village and parked near the lane leading down to the canal. The area had been cordoned off to members of the public, and a group of them had gathered by the entrance to the path. As Geraldine made her way through the crowd, a woman blocked her way and began haranguing her. Other voices joined in.

  ‘What’s going on here?’

  ‘Why is the path closed?’

  ‘Has someone drowned?’

  ‘We have a right to know what’s going on in our own village!’

  Without stopping to answer any of their questions, Geraldine
pushed her way through the assembled onlookers. A constable stood aside to let her pass. It was early afternoon, not yet dark but overcast and freezing cold. Quickly she pulled on shoe covers and protective clothing before entering the forensic tent. The canal side was being treated as a crime scene, even though no body had been found. A girl from Stephanie and Peter’s class at school had gone missing, without her bag. It was looking grim.

  Several white-suited officers were scrutinising the tow path, taking photographs under bright lights, and collecting evidence. Geraldine approached one of them.

  ‘What was in the bag?’

  The other woman straightened up. ‘You’ll need to ask Jed.’ She pointed to a tall officer standing nearby.

  Geraldine approached him and posed her question again. Straightening up, Jed listed the contents from memory.

  ‘There wasn’t much in it. There was a purse with nearly thirty quid in notes and coins and a couple of bank cards: a debit card and a credit card, house keys, a comb, a mobile phone, a few cheap biros, and a make-up bag containing a tube of concealer, a small jar of foundation, mascara, red lip gloss, and some other cosmetics.’ He paused in his recital. ‘You’ll have to check the report if you need to know more details of the contents, but there was nothing unusual in there, nothing you wouldn’t expect to find in a woman’s bag.’

  Geraldine thanked him. Another officer had been examining footprints. It was quite muddy alongside the canal, but in the cold weather the ground had hardened with frost and become icy in patches. As a result there were very few footprints, and little to suggest there had been a struggle. The grass had been flattened in places but that was inconclusive, many of the footprints having been made by the girl who had found the bag. She and her father had apparently trampled all over the spot where the bag had been lying. Having learned as much as she could, there was no point in hanging around in the forensic tent where she felt she was getting in everyone’s way, so Geraldine went back outside and gazed around the gloomy scene.