‘Look, are you going to help me or what?’
Gislingham sighs as loudly as he can. ‘I don’t have much of a choice, do I?’
***
It’s just after five and I’m with Baxter at the tech firm who do our forensic voice-recognition work. We’re in front of a bank of computer screens. I haven’t got a clue what half this stuff is for. The analyst sitting beside us doesn’t look much older than fifteen.
‘OK,’ he says after a moment, ‘I’ve got the audio loaded now, so let’s have a listen.’
24/06/2015 06:50:34
It’s me. Where are you? I’ll have to leave soon. Call me, will you?
There’s a muffled noise, some clicks and then the line goes dead. She sounds exasperated, on the edge of anger. The analyst goes back and plays it again, and Hannah Gardiner’s frustration maps itself on to the screen in a series of peaks and troughs. Loudness, pitch, intensity. The analyst sits back, then turns towards me.
‘The problem is she says so little. It’s only fourteen words, and it’s pretty distorted. But I cleaned it up as much as I can and compared it to some other material which we know is definitely Hannah Gardiner’s voice. Reports on the BBC website, that sort of thing.’
He turns and pulls up more wave patterns on to the screen. ‘See – all three of these are obviously the same person – you can tell that with the naked eye, even without doing the analytics.’
He drags the pattern made by the voicemail over and lines it up with the other samples. ‘And here’s your voicemail.’ He sits back. ‘Like I said, fourteen words isn’t really enough to make a definitive match, but for my money, it’s her.’
‘So she was alive and well, in Crescent Square, at 6.50 that morning?’
He nods. ‘Looks like it.’
***
‘Quinn? It’s me.’
Gislingham is out of breath, his voice coming in gasps. In the background Quinn can hear traffic.
‘Where are you?’
‘On the High. I was coming back from Cowley and I think I just saw Pippa Walker. If it wasn’t her it’s someone who looks bloody like her.’
Quinn grips the phone. ‘Where – where did you see her?’
‘At the bus-stop by Queen’s Lane. I’m there now – I came back as soon as I could turn round but she’d already gone.’
‘Did she have bags with her – a suitcase or anything?’
‘Not that I could see. Just a carrier bag, I think.’
‘So if we’re lucky she’s still in Oxford.’
‘I’ll see if we can get some CCTV. We may be able to work out what bus she got on.’
‘Cheers, mate. I owe you one.’
‘Yeah,’ says Gislingham heavily. ‘I know.’
***
Sent: Fri 05/05/2017, 18.05
From: AlanChallowCSI@ThamesValley.police.uk
To: DIAdamFawley@ThamesValley.police.uk, CID@ThamesValley.police.uk
Subject: DNA results: 33 Frampton Road
I’m about to call you about this, but in case I don’t get through, here are the salient points:
Shed
We double-checked the results for the blanket used to wrap the body of Hannah Gardiner, and there is no DNA from either Donald Walsh or William Harper. The only DNA aside from hers was – as previously stated – that of her husband, Robert Gardiner, and her son, Toby Gardiner.
Cellar
The young woman’s bed yielded DNA from two males: saliva from Donald Walsh, and both saliva and semen from William Harper.
Child
We ran a DNA test on the samples obtained with the assistance of Social Services, and cross-checked them against some small blood spots found on the child’s bedding. The boy in the cellar is William Harper’s son.
***
I’ve just got to the ward at the John Rad when the call from Challow comes through, which earns me a disapproving look from the nurse.
‘You’re supposed to turn those things off, Inspector.’
‘I know. I’m sorry, but this is important.’
And it is.
‘You’re sure – no question?’ I take a deep breath. ‘Right. I’m at the hospital. I’ll talk to her. See if I can get her to confirm it.’
The nurse is looking at me with pointed impatience. ‘Are you ready now?’
‘Yes, sorry.’
*
It’s less than forty-eight hours since I last saw her, but Vicky looks a lot better. Someone’s helped her wash her hair, and she’s sitting in the chair by the window in a pair of jeans and a big jumper. There’s a magazine on her lap and she suddenly looks re-attached to the world. An ordinary girl again. I tip my hat silently to whoever it was did all this, and when I catch the nurse’s eye I know it was her. She smiles.
‘I think Vicky’s feeling a bit better today. We’ve even managed to persuade her to eat something.’
I gesture towards the chair by the bed. ‘Can I sit by you for a few minutes, Vicky?’
She flashes me a look, then nods. I drag the chair a little closer and sit down.
‘Have you been able to write anything down for us?’
She flushes a little and looks away.
‘Vicky still hasn’t been able to speak,’ says the nurse. ‘We think it’s better not to push it. Take things slowly.’
‘I think that’s a very good idea,’ I say, trying to look reassuring. ‘But I’ve just had a call from our forensics lab, and if you think you’re up to it I’d like to ask you a couple of questions. Would that be OK?’
She looks at me. Makes no movement.
‘There’s one thing we need to be really clear about: whether there was just one person who attacked you or whether there were two of them. We can’t tell for certain from the DNA results we’ve had, and I’m sure you understand how important it is that we know for sure, one way or the other. So can you tell me, Vicky? Was it just one man – no one else?’
She stares at me a moment. Her cheeks are becoming flushed again. And then she nods.
I get out my phone, find the image and show it to her.
‘Was it this man?’
She looks at me, then at the picture, then shakes her head.
I change the image.
‘This one?’
She gasps a little, and puts her hand to her mouth. The tears come.
‘Yes,’ she whispers, her voice hoarse with long silence. ‘Yes.’
***
Quinn – found that CCTV from the bus-stop. Pippa was on the #5 towards Blackbird Leys. I’ve got the reg number so you shd be able to track down the driver. He’d prob remember her
Cheers Gis. Like I said I owe you one
It occurred to me – the #5 goes via the business park – cd she have been going to see Gardiner?
Def worth asking him. Cheers mate
***
‘So where are we now, Adam?’
Superintendent Harrison’s office. Saturday morning. There are few good reasons to find yourself in here at the weekend, but on a scale of one to ten on the discomfiture scale this is probably only about five. And to be fair, he does need to know.
‘Vicky identified Harper as her abductor, sir. And the forensic results back that up.’
‘What about Walsh’s DNA on the girl’s bedding?’
‘He did tell us he’d stayed over once or twice, and Challow says saliva could have got on the bedding if that had been on the bed he used. It’s not impossible.’
‘So the abduction was Harper acting alone. No collusion from Walsh at all.’
‘It’s looking like it. Vicky didn’t recognize him.’
‘All the same, this is a man who’s never been violent before. Do you still think Harper’s dementia was a factor – somehow triggered by her unfortunate resemblance to his wife?’