The clipped tone was so unlike Chloe that it put an abrupt end to any further questions Alex might have had. She couldn’t even bring herself to make small talk. She had wanted to discuss what had happened – make sure that Chloe knew what had been said had been forgiven (if she was completely honest, Alex didn’t forget much) – and it smarted to have the olive branch she had offered snapped back in her face like that. Biting her tongue, Alex turned the radio on low, letting the sound of the morning’s national news headlines fill the car’s uncomfortable silence.
She didn’t want to think about what might face them when they reached Penarth. She knew Cosmeston Lakes well. It was a beauty spot just over a half an hour drive from Alex’s home town of Caerphilly that was popular with families who liked to spend lazy summer afternoons enjoying picnics on the grass that sloped down to the main lake, and with walkers who liked to venture further amidst the paths that intertwined amongst the other, smaller lakes.
The area was affluent. House prices were high and the locals prided themselves on being one of the most respectable and successful areas in Wales. Crime rates were low. Sarah Taylor – if she was in fact to be discovered there – had lived in Pontypridd, miles from Cosmeston Lakes. If she was there now, why had she been taken to a different borough?
And why there?
They slowed to a crawl as they neared the city. Chloe hadn’t spoken and Alex was too distracted by her thoughts to attempt a conversation about the weather or the state of the economy as bemoaned by the politician whose voice was the only sound to break the quiet purr of Alex’s Audi. She did her best to ignore the frostiness in the car, making no further attempt to question Chloe.
Cosmeston Lakes was a beautiful spot during the spring and summer months, but like anywhere else it looked considerably bleaker in the grey half-light of a cold January morning. There were few other cars in the car park when they arrived; the only others belonging to the pathologist and officers who had first responded to the call. The man who had made the call was sitting on a far wall at the side of the car park, near the closed-up café. He was dressed in running gear: neon trainers, full-length Lycra leggings, a skintight Lycra top and a thin beanie hat. Alex wondered why anyone would want to go out running at any time of year, but running on a January morning baffled her.
The man was talking with a uniformed officer. As they approached, the two stopped talking and the runner stood from the wall.
‘DI King,’ she introduced herself. ‘This is DC Chloe Lane. You found the body?’
The man nodded. ‘I almost missed it. There was something sticking up from the water, just slightly. I stopped to take a closer look.’
The ‘something’ the man had seen had later transpired to be Sarah Taylor’s elbow. She had been in the water for considerably less time than Lola Evans, meaning there had been minimal damage to her body. Helen, the pathologist, estimated around two days, which made Connor Price’s involvement impossible. Two days earlier, he had been in custody at the police station. Unless he was capable of being in two places at once, Connor Price hadn’t put Sarah Taylor in the water.
Sarah was instantly recognisable. Her clothes had been removed, as Lola’s had, leaving Sarah in only her underwear. Grace had told them the last time she’d seen Sarah she’d been wearing a dress, ready to go out for the evening. The dark thoughts that Alex had tried to keep at bay returned.
Like Lola, Sarah’s hair had been cut. Yet there were considerable differences between the two victims. Lola had been tortured before she had been killed. Other than the very early effects of water to the body and some slight bruising to the face, Sarah Taylor showed no signs of physical injury.
Alex stood at the side of the wooden bridge and looked sadly at the body of Sarah Taylor. She had been brought to the lake’s edge and laid on the damp grass. Her hands were tied behind her back and her legs tethered together at the knees. As with Lola, plastic bags had been attached to the ropes that held her bound.
‘Unbroken,’ Alex said, gesturing to the bags. ‘Not enough time in the water? The river moves, but it’s far more peaceful here at the lakes. Well…’ she added, acknowledging the irony of her words.
‘If those bags had been filled, would the body have resurfaced so soon?’ Chloe mused.
‘There’s something else,’ Helen said, crouching beside the body and placing a gloved hand to the girl’s arm. ‘Here.’
She lifted Sarah Taylor’s arms and gently pushed aside one of the coils of rope that held her wrists bound. Angry tears to the young woman’s skin showed an obvious attempt to free her arms. She looked up at Alex. ‘I can’t say anything for certain yet. The post-mortem will tell.’
She didn’t need to explain what she meant: it was obvious to both Alex and Chloe what the pathologist was suggesting.
Sarah Taylor was still alive when she’d been put into the water.
Chapter Forty-One
The team was gathered in the incident room. On the evidence board were photographs of Lola Evans and Sarah Taylor, both posing with smiles for the camera; both beautifully ignorant of what a near-fate held in store for them. Their faces filled Alex with a desperate sadness that was almost tangible. The older she grew, the deeper her mistrust in life became. Illness, disease, betrayal, death. Murder. It was so often all too easy to forget that there was any good in the world.
Alex had expected the superintendent to be present at the meeting that morning, but she hadn’t seen him since she’d arrived at the station. It would be down to her to relay the details to him later, and she was determined to seek him out armed with something more than vague progress. At the current rate the case was moving that possibility seemed something still in too-distant reach.
Connor Price had been released from custody. The two other men from the support group – Sean Pugh and Carl Henderson – were due to attend the station that day for blood testing. The best possible outcome would be that one of them would prove a match for the second, unidentified, blood sample found at The Black Lion, bringing an end to their search for the killer. Should one of the men fail to show up that day, it would surely suggest an indication of his guilt.
‘The records of people who attended the support group have conveniently gone AWOL,’ Alex told the team. ‘According to Tim Cole, the only two people who had access to them were him and Connor Price. The records are only kept for emergency purposes and the last time they were checked was May last year, when Sean Pugh had a panic attack. It seems the rest of the group thought he was having a heart attack, so Tim accessed the files to contact his mother after an ambulance had been called. The files were there then, so I’ve asked Tim Cole for a list of people who’ve attended the group between then and now.’
‘So we’re relying on Tim Cole to give us an honest account?’ one of the DCs asked.
‘For the moment, yes.’