I leaned forward and squinted at the images again. ‘It could be Bishop …’
‘It could be anyone.’
‘What about the car?’
‘Well, it’s definitely a Nissan Almera — ’
‘Is it?’
‘Yeah, but I can’t make out the number plate.’
I leaned back, lit a cigarette, and looked at my watch. It was just gone four o’clock. Deep down inside me I could feel the faint stirrings of the black place again, and I knew that it wouldn’t be too long before it dragged me down into its void. But it wasn’t quite ready for me yet. And the black pills in my pocket would help to keep it at bay for a while.
‘What time does it get dark?’ I said to Cal.
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Six, half-past …? Why?’
‘Great Hey Road …’ I said, gazing at the frozen image on the laptop screen. ‘It carries on down to the coast, doesn’t it?’
‘Yeah,’ Cal said, frowning at me, not sure why I was asking. ‘It takes you out past the Ranges, through all those little villages … and it ends up at Hale Island.’
I nodded, remembering now. I hadn’t been to Hale Island for years, but when I was a kid we used to drive down there on Sunday afternoons for family strolls on the beach … my mother and father walking together, talking quietly to each other, while I went off on my own … scuffing along the strandline, kicking up junk, looking for jewels — tropical beans, cuttlefish bones, mermaid’s purses …
I was happy then.
‘John?’
I looked at Cal.
He said, ‘Are you all right? You look a bit — ’
‘Can you see if you can find some more footage of the Nissan?’ I said to him, getting to my feet. ‘Try and see where this guy went with Anna?’
Cal nodded. ‘I can try … there’s a few more Network Rail cameras that might have picked him up, but that’s before the turn-off back to town. After that … well, I’ll have to check, but I don’t think there’s too many cameras along Great Hey Road.’ He looked at me, frowning again. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m just going to take a drive out there, before it gets too dark.’
‘Out where?’
I looked at the image on the screen again. ‘I’ll start at the lay-by, and then … I don’t know. Just keep going, I suppose.’ I looked back at Cal. ‘I know it sounds stupid — ’
‘Yeah, it does. I mean, you’re not going to find anything, are you?’
‘I know. But I just need to do something, Cal. Even if it’s pointless … I need to feel like I’m doing something.’
He looked at me for a while, chewing his lip … and just for a moment he reminded me so much of Stacy. It wasn’t just the family resemblance — although Cal did have the same natural beauty as Stacy — but the way he was chewing his lip and looking at me … Stacy used to do exactly the same thing when she was worried about me, especially when she was worried about my state of mind.
‘It’s all right,’ I said quietly to Cal. ‘I’m all right.’
‘Honestly?’
I smiled. ‘Yeah.’
He nodded. ‘OK.’
‘So you’ll keep working on the CCTV stuff?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And you’ll let me know — ’
‘I’ll call you whether I find anything or not.’
‘And if you’ve got the time — ’
‘I’ll see what I can find out about Charles Raymond Kemper.’
‘Thanks, Cal.’
‘Oh, and before you go …’ he said, fumbling around through the clutter on his desk. ‘Hold on … where the fuck is it? I know I put it somewhere … ah, there it is.’ He got up, came over to me, and handed me a flash drive.
‘What’s this?’ I said.
‘The video footage that was on that damaged memory card you gave me … I’ve transferred it all to the flash drive.’
It took me a moment to realise what he was talking about, but then I remembered — the StayBright case, Preston Elliot and his ball-peen hammer …
It seemed like a long time ago.
‘Was it all still there?’ I asked Cal.
‘Yep.’
‘You’re a genius,’ I said, pocketing the flash drive.
He smiled. ‘I know.’
Before I left, I went to the bathroom and swallowed another pill. I knew that I’d pay for it later — because the longer the black place is kept at bay, the blacker it is when it finally comes — but later was later. Right now, my only real concern was how Stacy would have felt about me taking the pills … and as I went over and looked in the bathroom mirror, and my fucked-up eyes stared back at me, I could hear the anger and exasperation in Stacy’s voice as she told me not to be so stupid …
You don’t need pills, John. You don’t need to keep doing this to yourself.
‘I’m sorry, Stace,’ I muttered, pocketing the bottle of pills. ‘I’m just …’
Just what?
‘Nothing … I’m just sorry.’
15
The business of death …
‘Did he rape her before stabbing her?’
‘We believe the wounds were inflicted during the rape.’
‘And then he strangled her?’
‘Yes.’
‘How did he get into the house?’
‘There were no signs of forced entry, so at the moment we’re assuming that Stacy let him in. Which either means that she knew him, or she was somehow tricked into letting him in.’
‘Do you know what time it happened?’
DI Delaney looks through the papers in the file. ‘The pathologist estimates the time of death at between 3.30 and 4.45. Stacy’s watch, which was broken during the attack, was stopped at 4.17.’ He looks at me. ‘You were still at work, John. You couldn’t have done anything.’
It’s a pointless thing to say, but I don’t hold it against him. I ask, ‘Have you got any witnesses?’
He shakes his head. ‘Not yet.’
‘No one saw anything?’
‘We’ve still got some follow-up interviews to do, and we’ve got appeals planned for the press and local TV. We’re doing everything we possibly can, John.’
‘What about forensics?’
‘The crime-scene evidence is still being analysed. No fingerprints have been found, so we’re assuming he wore gloves … and preliminary reports indicate the use of a condom during the rape, so we don’t expect to find any — ’
‘A condom?’
Delaney sighs. ‘It’s not unusual, I’m afraid. Rapists, sexual predators, murderers … they all watch CSI these days — CSI, Waking the Dead, Silent Witness …’ He shrugs. ‘They all know about DNA … at least, they think they do.’ He looks at me. ‘I’m sorry if I only seem to have bad news for you, John … but there is one thing that’s giving us hope.’
I don’t say anything, I just wait.
‘During the post-mortem,’ he tells me, ‘the pathologist found a small piece of scalp in your wife’s stomach.’
‘Scalp?’
He nods. ‘We think — and I have to emphasise that forensic work is still being carried out, so at the moment we can’t be sure — but we think that at some point during the assault, your wife must have fought back, biting her attacker on the head … and, incredibly, we think she must have actually bitten off a piece of his scalp …’
‘And swallowed it?’
Delaney shakes his head in admiration. ‘Whether or not she knew what she was doing, making sure that he wouldn’t get away without leaving his DNA behind … well, I don’t know. But either way, what she did … well, all I can say is that she must have been a remarkable woman.’