Her Final Hour by Rachel Amphlett

Author:Rachel Amphlett [Amphlett, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-913498-22-1
Publisher: Saxon Publishing

Chapter Thirty

Jan pushed away the remains of a ham and cheese sandwich as her desk phone rang, and bit back a sigh.

She was starving, having worked through any semblance of a lunch break to research Dominic Millar’s racing accident and his subsequent recovery in an attempt to find out if he’d ever crossed paths with Will Brennan again.

She had hit a dead end, and tried not to let her frustration show as she answered the call.

‘It’s Tom on the front desk. I’ve got Annie Hartman here with a hard drive. She says you were waiting for some CCTV images from the petrol station.’

‘Fantastic.’ Jan pushed back her chair and signalled to Turpin at the desk opposite. ‘We’ll be right there.’

‘She did well to get that sorted out so quickly,’ said Turpin as he shrugged his jacket over his shoulders and followed her down the stairs.

‘It’s a small company,’ said Jan. ‘And I think Annie and Isaac want to do everything possible to catch Jessica’s killer. She obviously meant a lot to them.’

She opened the door through to reception and saw Hartman silhouetted against the front window of the police station as she watched the traffic go past.

‘Mrs Hartman? Thanks for coming in.’

‘It’s Ms. Please, call me Annie.’ She shook hands with them both, and then reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope. ‘I thought it’d make a lot more sense for me to hand this over in person rather than risk it going missing in the post. I would’ve brought it in sooner but head office only provided the files late last night.’

‘This is great, thank you. Would you join us to watch the footage from that Thursday afternoon?’ said Jan. ‘It’d be a great help, in case we have any questions.’

‘Of course. I don’t have to be at the supermarket until five o’clock, so I’ve got all afternoon.’

‘Come this way.’

Turpin buzzed his security pass and led the way upstairs to a room that was used as an observation suite for the interview rooms on the ground floor as well as a makeshift meeting space for non-investigative matters.

A musty atmosphere filled the space, and, as Jan flipped the light switch, she noticed the thin layer of dust across the table in the middle.

While Turpin set up the computer and overhead screen, she turned to Annie.

‘Have you heard anything in passing at work about Jessica?’

‘No – apart from the customers who knew her quite well and have been passing on their condolences,’ she said. She tugged her padded coat off and draped it over the back of a chair. ‘I’ve started a collection tin to raise money for a charity of Jessica’s family’s choice when they feel up to making a decision about that, and a lot of customers have been dropping in cards as well. I still can’t believe this happened to her. It’s awful.’

‘We’re ready,’ said Turpin, dropping into seat next to Jan. He reached forward and wiggled the mouse to wake up the computer, and then inserted the USB stick the supermarket manager handed to him.

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