03 Persecution by R. C. Bridgestock

Author:R. C. Bridgestock [Bridgestock, R. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Crime, Mystery, &, Detective, General, Police, Procedural, Women, Sleuths, Small, Town, Rural, Thrillers, Social, Science, Violence, in, Society, Suspense, Sexual, Abuse, Harassment
Publisher: Canelo
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Darkness threatened to fall early, and there looked to be a distinct possibility of a shower from the black, fast-moving clouds, which swept above the large number of officers who were gathered, awaiting the next instruction. The body dog had been requested, but Charley was told that it was an hour away, and every minute counted if they hoped to find Cath alive. Charley couldn’t, and wouldn’t, wait.

Neal Rylatt and his CSI team were busy working at Cath Crowther’s flat. At the outside entrance of the complex Charley told Neal, ‘I want evidence,’ in a voice that sounded desperate to his ears, in a tone he was used to from an SIO seeking a victim, or a perpetrator.

Turning on her heels she rang Wilkie Connor at the Incident Room with further instructions regarding Cath Crowther’s background checks. ‘Boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Family? Places she went regularly where she might have caught the murderer’s eye?’

Suddenly, a magpie landed at her feet. Whether it was the shock, or her brain trying to contemplate the large bird stood staring at her, she felt unnerved by the sudden presence of a bird wreathed in superstition and legend. The old rhyme her Granny used to sing her ran round her head. ‘One for sorrow…’ She took a deep breath. She had to focus.

Mike crept up on her, and the bird flew off, its big strong wings flapping noisily as it left. All of a sudden she started shaking, and a dark shadow started to fall across her eyes. She lowered her head hoping to stave off a faint, because then she would be good to no one.

‘I’ve instructed Wilkie to find out Cath’s mobile number, her service provider. We could do with knowing whether it is switched on, when it was used, and where.’

She nodded in agreement, put her arm through Mike’s and leaned heavily on him as they walked towards Annie at the recycling site. He turned to Charley, once or twice, and a glimmer of understanding flitted across his face. No one had had anything to eat or drink since work began.

‘I understand that her parents don’t live in West Yorkshire. Will you contact the nearest police station to despatch an officer, to request that they find out when they last had contact with their daughter.’

On reaching Annie, Charley let go of Mike’s arm. ‘Tell them, to reassure them, that everything that can be done is being done to find her.’

Annie was staring at the vast amount of green bins at the university’s recycling site, and she despaired at the enormity of the task. Turning to Charley her face was crestfallen. ‘Where do we start, they all look the same, and we don’t even know if THE bin is still on campus.’

‘We don’t, but if there is a possibility that she’s still alive, we have to search every one of them to be sure and quickly at that.’

Annie looked at her questioningly. ‘You really think she’s in one of those bins?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Charley.

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