It was a few hours later. Melanie Hudson had now arrived, and she was working with Erika and her team in the incident room. The lights had been dimmed, and they were watching CCTV footage projected onto the whiteboards.
‘This is CCTV footage from inside the reception area of the large glass office block, the Purcell building on Latimer Street. It’s next to the casting studio where Beth had arranged to meet Robert Baker at 8.15 p.m. This CCTV footage from the reception desk inside the building is the closest footage to the abduction site that we’ve been able to find. There’s nothing on Latimer Street.’
‘I thought Beth was due to meet Robert Baker at eight?’ asked Erika.
‘Beth had texted her friend, Heather, to say she was running late because she couldn’t decide what to wear, and how to do her hair,’ said Crane.
‘Have we had any luck chasing up the real Robert Baker?’
‘He’s in Scotland visiting his brother. The casting studio is closed until the middle of February,’ said John.
‘Good, so we know for sure she wasn’t really meeting him,’ said Erika. ‘So we’re working on the timeline that she met our man at or just after 8.15 p.m.’
The image showed the inside of the reception area, behind two security guards sitting at the front desk. In one corner was a bank of three lifts.
‘Here we are, at 8.09 p.m. last night,’ said Crane. ‘You can see that, as it’s dark outside, the interior is reflected in the glass, but the automatic doors are floodlit and you can see through them out onto the street. Beth also activated the automatic doors when she passed.’
He froze on an image of Beth walking past as the doors opened. Erika looked at the faces of her team, bathed in the pale light from the projector. John put up another image beside it: this time is was Beth’s driving licence and her acting headshot.
‘So, everyone, we’re in agreement that this shows Beth Rose walking past?’ asked Erika.
The team nodded.
‘I’m not happy about us just guessing,’ said Melanie.
‘Maybe a guess is all we have?’ said Erika, turning to her.
‘That’s not all we have,’ said Crane. ‘I emailed pictures of Beth over to the security desk when I requested the tapes. The two guys who were working on the front desk last night say they remember her, commenting on what a knockout she was.’
‘So sexism is working in our favour for once,’ quipped Moss.
Melanie smiled and nodded. Crane went on: ‘We took a look at the footage from 7.30 p.m. through to 8.25 p.m., and the only cars which go past the front entrance are a lorry, a motorbike, two white vans and a blue car.’
Erika’s heart sank. ‘No red Citro?n?’
‘No, boss,’ said Crane.
A look passed between Melanie and Erika. Murmurs went around the incident room.
‘Can we see the footage please?’ asked Melanie.
‘You bet,’ said Crane. He loaded up the footage and ran it at speed, slowing and going back as each vehicle passed the front entrance. ‘And finally, there’s the blue car; we think it’s an older Ford model…’ The footage carried on. Just before 8.15 p.m. on the timestamp, a woman with short grey hair and a long coat darted out of the lifts into the reception area. She zipped over to the front desk.
‘Hang on, slow it down,’ said Erika.
Crane slowed the video to normal speed, and they watched as the woman went through the main doors and turned to the left, walking out of shot.
‘That woman,’ said Erika. ‘When she leaves she walks to the left, which would take her past the casting studios.’
‘At the same time when Beth was due to meet Robert Baker,’ said Peterson.
‘Crane. Get back in contact with the security team. Find out who she is. I want to talk to her,’ said Erika.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
After Mary had gone shopping, Darryl took Grendel for a walk down to the Oast House. When he pulled back the large steel door, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He saw Grendel’s large flat nose move up and sniff the air near to the metal door housing the large furnace, and he slipped his finger under her thick leather collar. Using his free hand, he switched on the light and pulled the metal door shut. He opened the door to the furnace chamber, and it smelt rank. Beth was crouched in one corner of the large metal cage. Like the other girls, her neck was chained to one side of the cage, and her hands were bound with chains and fastened to the other. Darryl had also taped up her mouth.
He let go of Grendel, and she padded over to the edge of the cage and sniffed at her. Beth’s eyes grew wide, and she tried to pull her head away from where she was chained to the bars. Grendel launched herself at the cage, barking and growling, flecks of spittle flying.
Beth lurched from side to side, screaming under the gag, as the huge dog galloped round the cage, bashing into it, trying to get her teeth through the wire mesh.
Darryl watched for a few minutes, smiling.
‘Okay, okay, shush girl,’ he said. He pulled out a knuckle of beef bone, and chucked it by the curved brick wall at the side of the furnace. She bounded after it and settled down on her haunches to chew.
Darryl went up close to the cage, and smiled.
‘It’s okay. I won’t hurt you,’ he said softly. Tears poured down Beth’s face and she gave a muffled yell from under the tape. ‘I can take off the tape. Just promise not to yell.’ He crouched down beside her, still smiling. Beth looked at his teeth and shuddered. They were small and crooked, so small, almost like milk teeth. ‘Do you promise?’She nodded.
‘You need to put your face close to the bars,’ he said. ‘Or I can’t reach the tape… Come on, good girl… put your head back against the bars.’
Beth was now trembling, and with one eye on Grendel chewing her bone in the corner, she sat back and turned her face up to him through the bars. Darryl pushed his fingers through and plucked at the tape, peeling it away from her mouth, rubbing his finger over her lips.
‘There. Now spit it out, go on,’ he said.
Beth didn’t let her eyes leave him and spat out the bundled-up rag he’d shoved in her mouth. She swallowed and took several deep breaths. He took a bottle of water out of his pocket and removed the lid, pushing it through the bars.
‘This is water, look,’ he said, taking a sip and offering it back to her. She kept her eyes on him as she drank. ‘Goodness you are thirsty,’ he said, tipping the bottle up as she drank. ‘Just bear in mind, you’ll have to do your business in there. There’s a grate under the rug. You won’t drown.’ He stifled a girlish giggle, and Beth’s eyes widened and she stopped drinking. She swallowed and took some deep breaths.
‘Who are you?’ she croaked.
Her eyes were so brown, so inquisitive, and her voice had a rich tone. Nice to listen to.
‘Just a guy. Joe Public.’
‘Is that your name, Joe?’
‘No. Joe was my brother’s name.’