He looked at the photo and shook his head.
‘No. She’s a pretty girl; I’d have remembered her.’
‘You’re positive she didn’t come in here last night?’
‘Yeah…’ He saw her worried face. Her hair on end. ‘The bouncer who was on last night has just rocked up. Let me give him a shout.’
Sam went to the door where the cleaner had left, and shouted for a man called Roman. Moments later a large beefy guy with a monobrow and a shaved head appeared, holding a steaming Pot Noodle.
‘Vat?’ he said with a thick Russian accent.
Sam explained the situation, and brought him over to Maggie. Roman took her phone in a large hairy hand and studied Ella’s photo.
‘Yes, she vas vaiting outside last night,’ he said.
‘She didn’t come in?’ asked Maggie.
He shook his head. ‘No. She vas there and then she vasn’t.’
‘Where did she go?’ asked Maggie.
‘I don’t bloody know. I vas working.’ He stuffed a forkful of Pot Noodle into his mouth and walked off.
Sam smiled apologetically.
* * *
Maggie came back out of the bar. It was now getting dark. She looked up and down the street, and felt hopeless. She tried Ella’s phone again but it went straight to voicemail. She saw that the road running next to the bar was a cul-de-sac. She set off down it and came up to the dead end, where there was a row of lock-up garages. They were all closed, and it was empty. She walked towards a row of evergreens by the last garage. She pulled the neck of her coat up against the wind.
‘This is stupid. She’s probably been having sex all day,’ muttered Maggie. She turned to leave, then spied a flash of white and brown in the small passage between the last garage and the line of evergreens.
She pushed her way down, stepping over old bricks and rubbish and saw a handbag. Ella’s handbag. It had a streak of blood on the front. When she opened it she found Ella’s wallet, keys and phone.
She hugged it to her chest and started to cry.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Darryl woke early on Monday morning and took Grendel for a walk. It was dark, and the wind blew softly over the fields, pushing the powder-dry snow into undulating drifts. When he reached the Oast House, he undid the padlock on the door and pulled it back. Grendel went in first, sniffing the frigid air and around the door in the furnace. The wind screamed across the top of the cowl.
He switched on the light, and opened the door to the furnace. Ella shifted in the cage and blinked, and began to wail in concert with the wind. She shivered, bound at the neck and wrists to the cage. One of her eyes was swollen shut. Grendel moved round the cage, sniffing at the back of her head. Ella tried to pull her head away from the bars, and Grendel gave a low rumbling growl.
‘Please, please…’ she started.
‘It’s alright. She can’t hurt you,’ said Darryl. Ella kept her eyes on him, shifting her head painfully when he crossed behind her to pat Grendel’s head.
‘Put your hands up,’ he said.
‘No, no, no, no more, please…’
‘I’m not going to hurt you. Put your hands up. Now.’
She lifted up bloody hands with dirty fingernails, and jumped as he slid a small bottle of water through the bars.
‘Take it, and drink,’ he said. She took it between her bound hands. He watched as she checked it, and seeing it was still sealed she put it between her bare knees and winced as she opened it with a clink of the chains, then lifted her hands to her mouth and drank.
‘Thank you,’ she said breathlessly. Darryl moved back around the cage to face her. ‘My parents have money,’ she said. ‘They’ll pay.’
He crouched down on his haunches, and looked at her. Noticing how the light from outside the furnace chamber threw the squares of the bars over her face.
‘I don’t want money… Your friend is worried about you.’
‘Friend?’
‘One of the blonde skanks you work with at the café. With the trampy wrist tattoos.’
‘Cerys? How do you know Cerys?’ she said.
‘I know Cerys, because I know you. You think I just grabbed you for the fun of it? You really don’t remember me, do you?’
Her one good eye darted about, trying to conjure up where she’d seen him.
‘I came into the café so many times, so many lunchtimes; you always had a smile for me, asked me how I was…’
‘Oh, yes. Yes, I remember.’
‘What’s my name?’
‘I, I…’ She shook her head, and fresh tears appeared in her swollen eyes.
‘Come on, Ella. You wrote it on my coffee cup, so many times…’
‘I know it; I’m just tired and hungry…’
‘LIAR!’ he shouted, slamming his hand down on top of the cage. ‘You fucking LIAR! You don’t know me. You don’t care.’
Grendel started to bark and circle the cage, agitated.
‘I do care, I could get to know you and care, if you give me the chance. I could, I’m sure…’
Darryl got up and paced around the cage, mirroring Grendel. ‘We talked about stuff, Ella. I told you that I lived on a farm, and that our milk was organic… I told you about my dog… You’re just like them all.’
‘No. I promise, I’m not!’
‘You are. Another pretty bitch. A bitch who plays with men; you make us think you like us but you don’t. You just want to play with us. Use us!’ He was screaming at her now, his piggy eyes wide. Grendel joined in with a volley of barks. Darryl stopped and composed himself. He crouched back down beside the cage. Calm. He leaned into her. ‘Ella. If you could have at least remembered my name, I would have let you go. But no. You’re going to die, Ella.’
She spat at him, and it landed on his face.
‘You’re a creepy little freak. No woman would ever go near you!’ she screamed.
He crossed behind her and he grabbed the chain, yanking it back so that her neck was pressed against the bars and she began to choke. She scrabbled with her hands, but the chain binding her wrists stopped them inches from her chest. Finally, when her face was turning blue, he let go, and she fell forward, coughing and gagging. He opened the door and Grendel trotted out.
‘No one is looking for you; no one cares,’ he said. Darryl left the furnace chamber and turned out the light.
He heaved the large sliding door closed, padlocked it and followed after Grendel, down towards the lake.
* * *
Darryl returned to the farm house at seven, had his breakfast then caught the eight a.m. train to London.
At lunchtime he went to the Bay Organic Café. It was busy with office workers picking at the salad bar. He dawdled over the baskets of bread, listening to Ella’s colleague, Cerys, who was working behind the checkout, talking to a man who he presumed was the manager.