These thoughts were still spinning round, when Helen noticed the small dark car in the side mirror. She had just reached the outskirts of Southampton and was arrowing towards the hospital, when she spotted it a few cars back. There was something about the number plate – its distinctive EKO ending – that she recognized. Was she imagining it or had she spotted the same car following her down the M1 from Northampton? Upping her speed, she took a sharp left, then left again, ripping the throttle back to enable her to spin round the block in quick order and rejoin the main road a good hundred yards from where she had been.
The car was gone. No sign of it on the main drag or any of the side roads. Had Helen imagined it all? Or was someone interested in her movements today? Suppressing her anxiety, Helen hit the indicator and dived off the main road towards Southampton Central.
64
Sanderson was on to her the minute Helen entered the incident room. Moments later, they were camped in Helen’s office with the blinds down and the door firmly shut.
‘Sorry for the amateur dramatics,’ Sanderson said in reference to the closed blinds. ‘But I thought you ought to see this.’
She passed a file across the table, which contained four sheets of paper – all of them with a woman’s photo attached to the top right-hand corner.
‘I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours going over the local missing person’s registers and liaising with the relevant agencies. And it’s thrown up four possibles.’
Helen kept her expression neutral, but she didn’t like the sound of that number.
‘They all have the right look – dark hair, blue eyes – all live alone, are low-income and have been missing for some time. Two of them – Anna Styles and Debby Meeks – seem to have vanished completely, no communication of any kind. The other two – Roisin Murphy and Isobel Lansley – send the occasional text or tweet.’
‘How occasional?’
‘Not very often, but always at virtually identical times.’
‘Before their mobile signal goes off again?’
‘Exactly,’ Sanderson replied nodding, her expression sombre now.
‘Do the timings of the communications tally with those “sent” by Ruby and Pippa?’
‘Yes. They’re a perfect match.’
Helen looked at their pictures – Roisin was a single mum, studded with piercings, rough around the edges, but with stunning aquamarine eyes, while Isobel was a very different kettle of fish. Her eyes were equally striking, but they were hidden behind a long black fringe. Isobel’s gaze was sidelong, as if she was unkeen to be photographed at all. Helen exhaled long and hard, suddenly struck by the fact that she might already be looking at the faces of two corpses.
She was on her feet now and marching to the door.
‘I’ll take full responsibility for pursuing this line of investigation,’ she said over her shoulder. There was no time to wait, no time for indecision, and Helen knew exactly what had to be done.
65
He was already sitting on the bed when she awoke. Ruby sat upright with a start, freaked out to find him staring at her.
‘You’ve had a rough night,’ he said sympathetically.
He was right. Ruby had spent a sleepless night, kept awake by hope, but also by fear. Her captor’s obvious desire for her still haunted her waking thoughts.
‘I was cold,’ she lied, pulling the sheets up around her.
‘I’ll get you some extra blankets,’ he continued, ‘and I will try and pick up those books for you today.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied, earning a smile in response. ‘If you were feeling kind, there are a couple of other things you could get for me too,’ Ruby went on, as casually as she could.
Immediately, a frown passed across his face. Was he suspicious? Did he sniff trouble? Keeping her expression as meek as possible, Ruby continued. ‘I would really like some make-up. I would love a hairbrush, some lipstick, some eyelash curlers and, if you don’t mind buying it, some nail polish.’
He looked at her, saying nothing.
‘I just want to look nice for you. And I think I deserve it, don’t you?’
Another long, painful pause, then he finally broke into a broad smile.
‘Were you nervous about asking for these things?’
Ruby looked at her shoes, fearful her expression would betray her.
‘There’s no need to be. I don’t mind it when you’re assertive. It’s more like the old you.’
He rose at this point.
‘I’ll get those things for you. You’ll… you’ll look pretty as a picture.’
With that, he departed. As soon as he’d gone, Ruby sank back down on the bed. It had cost her her last remaining ounce of composure to play her part, but it had succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. She had expected more suspicion, more resistance, but actually he had played right into her hands.
The first phase of her plan was complete.
66
‘This is fucking out of order and I will not stand for it.’
Ceri Harwood seldom swore. It was strangely enjoyable, watching her superior lose her cool and Helen privately resolved to provoke her more often.
‘DI Grace knows the chain of command,’ the incandescent Harwood continued. ‘She knows she should have come to me first.’
Chief Constable Stephen Fisher nodded, before turning his attention to Helen.
‘Would you care to explain to me why you didn’t, DI Grace?’
Because Harwood would have told me to go jump in a lake, Helen thought, but swallowed that down. Her decision to go direct to Harwood’s superior was deliberate – a calculated gamble.
‘Detective Superintendent Harwood and I have already had this discussion and she’s made her feelings clear -’
‘So why are we having it again?’ Fisher interrupted.
‘Because the situation has changed,’ Helen replied. ‘Further investigation -’
‘Investigation that was not authorized,’ Harwood interrupted.
‘Further investigation has revealed a number of potential victims,’ Helen continued. ‘I have always believed that Pippa’s killer had the potential to be a serial offender and the evidence now points that way.’
‘Evidence?’ Harwood queried, witheringly.
‘Roisin Murphy and Isobel Lansley. Two young women with the same look, the same profile, who’ve been missing for over a year and who text and tweet at the same times of day and the same locations as Ruby and formerly Pippa. The geography doesn’t make sense – the New Forest, then Southampton city centre, then Brighton, then Hastings – their movements are so random and unlikely that the only explanation is that someone is deliberately trying to throw the young women’s families off the scent. Furthermore, what are the odds that four unconnected girls would be travelling around in the same seemingly random pattern?’
‘So you want to go back to the beach?’ Fisher interrupted decisively.
‘Yes. That’s the only deposition site we know of and serial murderers are creatures of habit. It’s a discreet, out-of-the-way location, which regularly washes away surface evidence, footprints and so on. It’s perfect for his purposes and he’d be a fool not to use it again.’
‘He? You keep referring to “he”. Who is he? You sound like you know him?’
‘We don’t have anything concrete so far -’
‘But still you want us to close a public beach, exhaust our resources digging up great swathes of it and create an unholy storm of public concern and negative publicity in the process. All because of your gut instinct.’
‘Because of the pattern of his offending. There is almost zero chance he won’t have attempted to abduct more victims in between Pippa and Ruby – and Roisin and Isobel fit the bill perfectly.’