Dark Water: A gripping serial killer thriller

  The room leapt into life. Erika went over to where Moss and Peterson sat near the back.

  ‘You two are with me. We’re talking to the Collins family this morning and I’d appreciate your insight.’

  18

  Avondale Road was quiet when they approached number seven. The bare hedge was tall, and the front of the large house could be seen clearly through the branches. In the driveway were two large Range Rovers.

  A handsome indian man answered the door. He was in his early thirties, and dressed smartly in a black suit. His long black hair tumbled down his shoulders and he smiled warmly. Erika introduced them and they showed their ID’s.

  ‘I understood that this was just the family meeting with us?’

  ‘I’m Tan, Tanvir Jindal. I’m Toby’s partner,’ he said. He had a soft Bradford accent, which made Erika warm to him.

  They made their way through the hall and into the living room where the family waited awkwardly. Marianne sat at the end of the long sofa next to the fireplace. She looked pale and drawn. Next to her sat an attractive dark-haired woman in her forties. Heavily made up with tanned skin, and wore tight white trousers, a silk blouse with a tiger print pattern, a black jacket and lots of gold jewellery.

  ‘This is my daughter, Laura,’ said Marianne. The woman stood and shook hands with the officers. Erika noticed her brown eyes were bloodshot and detached. A tall lean man with pretty features, sat in an armchair beside the long sofa. He was fashionably dressed in jeans and a checked shirt with short messy blond hair. He introduced himself as Toby.

  In front of the bay window, where the long wine coloured curtains were drawn tight, a middle-aged man paced up and down. He was handsome, and bald with a deep tan, and wore a white shirt and pale jeans on his slim frame. His fingers were covered in gold rings. This was Martin Collins.

  ‘Hello there,’ he said. His voice still had a strong Irish accent.

  Seeing the rest of the family was a shock for Erika, they seemed so colourful and vital in comparison to Marianne. In her black a-line skirt and long grey woollen jumper, she seemed just as faded and dated as the furniture.

  ‘Please, take a seat,’ said Marianne. She indicated three high backed dining chairs in front of the sofas. Erika, Moss and Peterson sat.

  ‘Would you all like some tea, perhaps?’ asked Tanvir.

  ‘That would be very kind,’ said Erika.

  ‘You don’t know where anything is,’ snapped Marianne.

  ‘He can use a kettle, and no doubt the cups are still in the same place, above the microwave,’ said Toby. Tanvir hovered awkwardly by the door.

  ‘Yes, tea would be great,’ said Moss giving him a smile. ‘And we need to talk to the family.’

  ‘Let me make the tea,’ said Marianne.

  ‘He’s not contagious, Mum,’ said Toby.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know what I mean. Over ten percent of the population is gay. There’s a high chance gay people have made your clothes, packed your shopping in the supermarket…’

  ‘Enough!’ snapped Martin. ‘Let Tan make the bloody tea!’ Marianne, pressed a scrunched up ball of tissue to her face. Laura leaned over and a gripped her hands.

  ‘Sorry about this, officers,’ added Martin.

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Erika. ‘I know this must be a difficult time.’

  Martin waited until Tan had left the room and said,

  ’Hear that, Toby. A difficult time. Today was supposed to be just family. I wanted us to all be together for once without…’

  ‘How can you say that, Martin? We’ll never all be together. How could you forget Jessica!’ cried Marianne.

  ‘I didn’t mean that. Do you really think I’ve just forgotten about her?’ shouted Martin. ‘You don’t have the monopoly on grief… Christ almighty. We all grieve in our own way…’

  ‘Don’t you dare take the lord’s name!’

  ‘Dad,’ said Lara.

  ‘No. I’m not going to be told again that I’m not crying enough, that I’m not doing it right!’ he moved over to the sofa and jabbed a finger in Marianne’s face. ‘I loved that little girl, and I would move heaven and earth to spend just one more minute with her, to have her here with us… to have watched her grow up over the past…’ his voice broke and he turned away from them all.

  ‘Look, we don’t want to intrude on you any more than we need to,’ said Erika. ‘We just need to talk to you and then you can discuss things as a family.’

  Martin moved back to the curtain and motioned for Erika to continue. Laura was now crying, along with her mother, and Toby stayed resolute in his chair. His arms crossed over his broad chest.

  ‘Thank you for all coming here. I’d like to assure you that this investigation will benefit from all our resources, and a great deal of officers are working tirelessly to find who did this.’

  ‘Don’t give me corporate bollocks,’ said Martin. ‘Speak like a human!’

  ‘Okay, Mr Collins. We’ve inherited a complex case. When Jessica disappeared twenty-six years ago there were few witnesses. We have to go back and pick through the original investigation, which as you know had many flaws. I’ve solved two historical abduction cases, and I’ve hand picked the best officers to work with me. I know many people have already given up on Jessica, but I’m not one of them. I’m going to catch this bastard. You have my word.’

  Martin looked between Erika, Moss and Peterson, and nodded.

  ‘Okay, well I’ll hold you to that,’ he said, his eyes beginning to fill up. He turned away and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit up. ‘You look like a woman I can trust.’

  ‘Are you going to screw her too?’ said Marianne. There was silence. ‘Did you know? He was screwing that whore of a detective, Amanda Baker.’

  A look passed between Erika, Moss and Peterson.

  ‘Marianne…’ started Martin.

  ‘No, Why should I be quiet? He was sleeping with that woman. A woman who comforted me, who I told private things to about how I felt.’

  ‘It was a year after she joined the case!’ shouted Martin.

  ‘And that makes it okay?’

  ‘And I’m supposedly the one in this family who every one is ashamed of,’ said Toby, almost as an aside to Erika, Moss and Peterson.

  ‘Shut up!’ cried Laura. ‘All of you. This is about Jessica! My… Our sister, she never got to grow up, she should be here! And all you can do is bicker and fight!’ Tears ran tracks down her cheeks, through thick foundation and she wiped at it with the back of her hand.

  ‘It’s alright my darling,’ said Marianne.

  ‘When can we see her?’ asked Laura.

  ‘You do realise that when we found Jessica, we recovered just her skeletal remains,’ said Erika.

  ‘I still want to see her!’

  ‘I would like to see her too,’ said Marianne.

  ‘So do I,’ said Toby.

  ‘Of course, that can be arranged. I was going to tell you that you will be able to start making arrangements for a funeral in the next week or so. When the Forensic Pathologist is finished, and Jessica’s remains will be returned to you.’

  ‘What are they doing to her?’ asked Laura.

  ‘He’s running tests, trying to get as much information as possible to put together a picture of how Jessica died.’

  ‘Did she suffer? Please, tell me she didn’t suffer,’ pleaded Marianne. Erika took a deep breath,

  ‘Again, we still need to run tests. Issac Strong is one of the best Forensic Pathologists in the country, and as well as this he is very respectful. Jessica is safe in his care.’

  Marianne nodded and looked up at Martin. He had his back to them, his head bowed. The cigarette had burned down in his hand.

  ‘Martin, come here, love,’ she said. He moved to the sofa, sat on the arm next to Marianne and buried his head in her neck giving a deep muffled sob. ‘It’s okay, it’s all right,’ she said placing her free hand on his back and pulling him
tight to her. Laura turned into her mother too and they sobbed.

  ‘I hardly remember her,’ said Toby with tears in his eyes looking up at Erika, Moss and Peterson.

  Tanvir returned with a tray of tea and placed it on the large coffee table. Erika just wanted to leave this oppressive house with its dingy furniture. It felt like a museum, and coupled with the terrible atmosphere, the pictures of the Virgin Mary took on a sinister melancholy.

  ‘We’d like to make a fresh media appeal, and wanted to ask if you would be willing to do that, as a family?’ asked Erika. They nodded.

  ‘Our media liaison can advise on when and how that happens.’

  ‘Do you have any new suspects?’ asked Laura.

  ‘Not as yet, but we are working with new information.’

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Laura sharply.

  ‘Well, the obvious one being that we found Jessica in Hayes Quarry. Can I ask what you know about it? Did you spend time there as a family or with Jessica?’

  ‘Why would we go down to that old quarry? Jessica loved dancing, and going to pets corner…’ said Marianne.

  ‘I used to go fishing there,’ said Toby. ‘When I was twelve or thirteen… Oh Jesus. She must have been down there. I went out on a boat. She was there all the time.’ Tanvir sat on the arm of his chair and took Tony’s hand. Marianne saw it, and then looked away. Then Peterson spoke for the first time,

  ‘I know this is hard, but whose boat was this? Who did you know who had access to a boat?’

  ‘My friend, Karl. It was a rubber dinghy,’ said Toby. ‘But me and Karl were thirteen when we went fishing, I was four when Jessica went missing.’

  ‘What about Trevor Marksman, eh?’ said Martin looking up and wiping his eyes. ‘That nonce who the council seemed to think it was okay to put in a bloody halfway house at the top of our road! Have you got people talking to him? The only reason they never got that bastard is because there wasn’t… Because Jessica wasn’t found. Have you seen the photos he took of her, and there’s video, video from when she was at the park with Marianne and Laura!’

  ‘He is first on our list of suspects, and he will be brought in again for questioning,’ said Erika.

  ‘We wrote to our local MP, asking if there could be an inquiry into the first investigation you know what she did?’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Erika.

  ‘She sent back a fucking template letter. Didn’t even have the courteousy to put pen to paper. I employ secretaries for my building firm who don’t have much more than the basic qualifications, and even they know to give a proper handwritten response, but an MP? Do you know that to be a Member of Parliament you need no qualifications whatsoever…’ He was now pacing up and down the living room watched by Marianne, Toby and Lara. ‘What qualifications do you have? Marksman got himself a fancy Barrister and legal aid, and sued you all for, what was it, almost three hundred grand?’

  ‘What happened with my predecessor was regrettable,’ said Erika. As she heard it come out of her mouth she knew it would anger him even more.

  ‘Well, I’ve got money, I don’t need legal aid, and did you know that Laura’s boyfriend is now a pretty shit hot Barrister himself?’

  ‘Dad,’ said Laura shooting him a look.

  ‘No. Charlie is a partner at the Omnia Chambers, and he’s already said he’s ready to work for me!’

  ‘This is Charles Britton, he was your boyfriend at the time of Jessica’s disappearance?’ asked Moss.

  ‘Yes, he was,’ said Laura wiping her eyes.

  ‘And you were both camping in Wales when Jessica vanished?’

  ‘Yes. We came home straight away when we heard. We saw it on the news…’ her bottom lip began to tremble.

  ‘What happened between you and Charles?’

  ‘We were teenagers. He’s married now with kids, I’m married with kids, but he’s kept in contact. That kind of thing gives you bond.’

  Erika could see Martin was now pacing up and down, and red in the face,

  ‘Jessica’s killer has been fucking running around laughing for the last twenty-six years, cos you lot, you useless fucking lot have done nothing! You’ve let stuff slip through your fingers! How could she just disappear? She only went up the bloody road, it takes no time at all and NO ONE SAW ANYTHING!!!’

  With that he flipped up the coffee table and the cups and plates went crashing to the floor.

  ‘Please you need to calm down, Sir,’ said Peterson moving over to Martin. Moss got up with him.

  ‘You don’t tell me to calm down! You don’t come in to my house…’

  ‘It’s not your house anymore, Martin!’ screamed Marianne, ‘And you don’t get to come back here and wreck things.’ She knelt on the floor and began to pick at the large slivers of broken china.

  ‘Mum, you’ll cut yourself,’ said Toby softly kneeling down with Marianne and gently pulling her hands away. Laura helplessly between her brother and mother, her father pacing up and down, red in the face.

  Martin started kicking at the wall. Marianne screamed at him to stop.

  ‘Mr Collins, if you don’t calm down right now I’ll have to cuff you and put you into a police car,’ said Erika. ‘Do you really want that to happen? There is press outside and they want nothing more than to find a new angle, and the guilty father will play right into that…’

  This brought Martin up short and he looked at Erika.

  ‘So you are going to calm down, please?’

  He nodded, chastised, ‘I’m sorry, he said rubbing a hand over his head.

  ‘I can’t begin to imagine what this has been like for your family,’ said Erika.

  ‘It ripped us to shreds.’ He started to cry again and Marianne moved to comfort him, followed by Toby and Lara. Tanvir stood to one side watching with Moss and Peterson.

  ‘Okay, I think we’ll leave it there. You need to spend some time together. We will be going over all witness statements again, and we may like to talk to you about certain aspects. One of my officers will be in touch,’ said Erika.

  She signalled to Moss and Peterson, and they left.

  19

  After their meeting with the family, Erika, Moss and Peterson sat outside 7 Avondale Road in the car.

  ‘That was terrible,’ said Erika.

  ‘And all still so raw after all these years,’ agreed Moss.

  ‘You’d expect it to be, Marianne is still living in the same house. Jessica went missing, well, just here,’ added Peterson. They looked out of the window at the street lined with huge bare oak trees, their branches reaching up above them against the grey sky.

  A few photographers had arrived, and were sussing out the house. One started to make his way down the drive so Erika briefly activated the blue lights and siren. He jumped back, noticing their unmarked car. Erika left the blue lights on as she put a call into the station asking for a uniform officer to come down to the house.

  ‘What do you think about Martin having had an affair with Amanda Baker?’ asked Peterson.

  ‘The Family Liaison never mentioned it when I gave her a lift the other night.’

  ‘Would she have known?’ said Moss.

  ‘Maybe not… Did you think Martin was a bit theatrical in there?’

  ‘What do mean?’ asked Peterson.

  ‘There was just something hoky about that whole flipping up the tea tray. If he’d thrown something, or… I don’t know, hit one if us I would have expected it. This case seems to get more complicated by the minute,’ said Erika. She looked up at the street and undid her seatbelt, adding, ’Let’s take a walk.’

  The got out of the car and came to the top of the driveway.

  ‘Any comments?’ asked a journalist with a thick beard, carrying a camera. He had one eye on the house at the bottom of the drive.

  ‘Yeah, get back away from the driveway. On the pavement ,’ said Erika. He rolled his eyes and took a couple of paces back.

  They walked off in the direction of number 27. It sloped u
p slightly and the houses to their left were lower than the road, each driveway sloped down. On their right the houses sat on a bank, so he driveways led up.

  ’So we’ve got all these houses, shrouded in trees and shrubs on both sides,’ said Erika.

  ‘That’s it, we’re here,’ said Moss. They came to a stop outside number 27. It was a cream coloured two storey house with faux pillars out front. The driveway had just been resurfaced and drops of rainwater clung like mercury to the unblemished surface.

  ‘The house has its second lot of new owners since 1990,’ said Moss. They stood for a moment and looked up and down the street.

  ‘The halfway house where Trevor Marksman lived at the time is just up here,’ said Erika. They carried on climbing for a few more minutes, and came to where the road turned sharply to the left. A large three storey manor house sat on the other side of the road, nestled in the crease. It was painted a buttery yellow, and its window frames and the pillars out front gleamed white. There was a white painted swing sign on the manicured lawn and large black letters told them this was now The Swann Retirement Home.

  They turned and were afforded a clear view of the whole street sloping away, past number 27 and down to their car parked on the kerb and the photographers who had grown in numbers. A large black crow landed on the sign. His coat gleamed like the painted letters and he let out a mournful cawing. It was the only sound on the street and it echoed.

  ‘That’s it. It took us less than four minutes to walk here.’

  ‘Whoever did it must have a had a car,’ said Peterson. ‘And might not have taken her far, Hayes quarry is less than a mile away.’

  How could she just vanish?’ said Erika.

  ‘She did just vanish,’ said Moss. The crow cawed again, as if in agreement.

  ‘What now, Boss?’ asked Peterson.

  ‘I think we should pay Amanda Baker a visit.’