‘Yes,’ answered Harding.
‘We might have a chance of getting a specimen of DNA from her then. When can you start the post mortem, Doctor?’
‘We need to wait till she thaws.’
‘How long will that be?’ asked Robbo. He had a million things now that were zapping across his database of a brain. All the photos of all the names on his list.
‘Twenty-four hours at room temperature.’
Sandford unpacked a new body bag and helped Harding wrap the body in its plastic sheet. As they lifted up her left arm a silver charm bracelet slipped to the ground, a silver heart uppermost.
Chapter 25
Tracy looked at her watch; Steve would be heading to work soon from the hotel. She ought to phone him. She prepared herself; a deep breath, a smile on her face.
He answered; she could hear the breakfast news on in the background.
‘Steve? Are you okay?’
He sighed irritably. ‘Is she back yet?’ His tone was sarcastic.
Tracy snapped. ‘It’s serious.’
‘Serious in what way?’ He still didn’t sound convinced.
‘The young woman found in Regent’s Canal was a friend of Danielle’s. The police think that the same man has Danielle. He’s keeping her hostage. It was terrible, Steve. He’s been phoning me.’
‘It’s probably some prank – the whole thing,’ he countered, not taking in what Tracy had said about the phone call. ‘I knew it would end like this. I told you she’d be nothing but trouble. So let me guess. We’re stuck with the kid? I’ll tell you where she is. She’s done a runner and left us with her disabled son to look after.’ His voice rose, almost hysterical. ‘Tell me he’s not staying with us permanently?’
‘I can’t, Steve. I can’t just abandon him. He’s not disabled – he has learning difficulties – special needs that’s all. He’s a lovely little boy and quite bright.’ Tracy found herself screeching back at him. As hard as she’d tried to stay calm, it hadn’t worked and she was tired of staying calm. ‘For God’s sake, he’s got no one else, Steve. It’s not his fault.’
‘She must have got friends, relatives of her own? She must have someone who can look after him?’
‘No she hasn’t. She’s got me and I feel like I have to. He’s my grandson – our grandson.’
‘He’s nothing to do with me.’
Tracy closed her eyes. Suddenly she felt exhausted by it all. She wanted to cry. Instead she put a smile back on her face.
‘I know it’s hard, love. I need your support right now. I’m not going to pretend it’s going to be easy but it just has to be done.’ Tracy reached down and began smoothing Jackson’s hair whilst she talked. He had just come into the kitchen.
‘Who else is there?’ asked Steve irritably.
‘Just Jackson right at this minute. A policewoman will be arriving any time now; she’s called a Family Liaison Officer. She’s here to help us in any way we need. You know, even with the cost of everything.’
‘Cost?’
‘Well, it will cost money to have Jackson here. Not much. But I’m not working. We will have to depend on your money and I’m not sure where it’s all going to at the moment. I haven’t seen much of it lately.’
‘Typical – all you really care about: money…’
‘Steve… please… that’s not fair.’
‘What is fair?’ Steve hit back. ‘I haven’t worked hard for years to end up using my cash up on a kid you had when you were fifteen – and her “special” son.’ Tracy heard the phone go dead. She wanted to cry. She bit her lip instead. She ran her fingers through Jackson’s baby hair. She knew Steve would be sorry by now. She was sure he’d want to call her back and apologize. She had no support from the one person she should have been able to rely on. She took a deep breath and tutted to herself. She needed to get a grip. She needed to be the strong one.
Tracy put the phone down and looked down at Jackson. He was staring up at her. She reached for a tissue to wipe his nose, which seemed to be always running. He stood still for three seconds and then he squirmed away from her.
‘Okay. Okay. That will have to do. Let me look at your new clothes.’ She knelt on the floor beside him. He stood back and pointed to the front of his jumper with its blue train.
‘Thomas,’ he said proudly.
‘Yes. Thomas the Tank Engine. Shall we see if we can find anything on the telly for you to watch?’ Jackson looked deep into Tracy’s eyes, his expression worried. He put his arms around her neck and she had such a job to stop from crying. Scruffy came running into the kitchen at that moment and began furiously licking Tracy’s face as she cuddled Jackson. Then Scruffy switched his attention to Jackson and started licking his ears. Jackson hid his head in Tracy’s neck as he giggled. Scruffy went around the other side and began licking any patch of skin he could see.
‘Scruffy, for God’s sake.’ Tracy pushed him away but he came around the back and put his paws on her shoulders and began licking Jackson’s other ear. Jackson squirmed and laughed and Tracy fell backwards onto the kitchen floor with Jackson on top of her and Scruffy on top of them both. She laughed. She held on to Jackson who was shrieking with laughter and pulled Scruffy to sit with them as she hugged them both.
‘Group hug.’
Tracy couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like that. She felt guilty that it was in such awful circumstances.
‘Right!’ She picked herself up from the floor and went to get Jackson’s coat and Scruffy’s lead.
‘We’re sick of staying in. We can’t be prisoners, can we, Jackson, and this mad dog needs a walk, don’t you, Scruffy?’
Tracy took Jackson to the park at the other end of the nearby shops and they tied Scruffy outside the children’s play area whilst Jackson played. At the end of an hour she sat on the swing with Jackson on her lap. She had almost forgotten what it was like to sit on a swing. The last time she’d sat on one had been when a child was growing inside her. It had been the first time she’d felt the flutter of feet kicking inside her and she didn’t know what it was. After that her life had catapulted forward and there were no more swings for her. Jackson had gone quiet, the way he always did on the swings. They soothed him. He sat heavily on Tracy’s lap and she held onto him with one arm. She was thinking how lovely it was when their peace was disturbed by the sound of Scruffy barking; ‘What’s Scruffy barking at?’ she said aloud. She looked up to see him straining on his lead and snapping at a man who was standing close to him. Jackson heard it too and went to jump down off Tracy’s lap.
‘Wait, Jackson, wait.’ But Jackson didn’t listen and he slipped from Tracy’s grasp and landed face down on the concrete. He waited four seconds to gather the scream in his lungs before it erupted and Tracy had to struggle to pull him up from the ground and stand him upright. She looked at the bump above his eyebrow.
‘It’s okay, Jackson. Please… please stay still so Nanny can have a look.’ He squirmed from her touch, trying to get away. She couldn’t make him stay still. The whole park seemed to be screaming. From the corner of her eye she saw the bright flames at the side of the park, just outside the children’s play area, and she realized she actually could hear people screaming And there was a terrible sound of an animal in agony.
Tracy’s legs started running before she had even made sense of what she was seeing. She shouted towards the nearest mum, ordering her to look after Jackson, and then she ran faster than she’d run since she was a girl. As she ran she unbuttoned her coat and then she leapt over the gate. Scruffy was a ball of fire; the smell of burning hair and petrol fumes rose around him in acrid smoke. He was rearing and twisting against the leash to try and get away. Tracy tugged at her coat as it got stuck in the sleeve. She threw it over Scruffy as she pinned him down and smothered the flames. The flames caught hold of her dress and she felt the heat as she choked in the smoke. She heard a woman shouting at her: