‘Closed mind, my arse.’
The door burst open and O’Connor stood in front of them, panting, his face red. ‘Ma’am, the results weren’t what we were expecting. I think you need to put your coffee down before I say another word.’ Jacob put his phone in his pocket and looked up at O’Connor.
She took another swig of her coffee to lubricate her dry throat and tossed the empty cup in the bin. ‘Okay. We’re ready for it.’
‘Remember the Deborah Jenkins case, four years ago? The disappearance?’
‘Just about. It was when I first started here as inspector.’ It had been the first case in her new role and she’d failed to solve it. Maybe this was her second chance. Gina stared into space and then clicked her fingers. ‘Don’t tell me. Young woman. She leaves work late. It’s close to Christmas. She vanishes without a trace. The only thing we have in evidence from that night is a shoe we’ve confirmed to be hers. The shoe, from what I remember, was found by the roadside. What has that got to do with the baby case?’
‘That’s the thing, guv. Her husband provided us with her toothbrush and razor back then, which allowed us to obtain and log her DNA on file. Her DNA is a match for the baby’s.’
Gina stared at O’Connor. She’d been promoted to inspector at the start of the case and had been transferred from Birmingham to Cleevesford, where there was a post. She remembered the investigation all too well. It had haunted her for months afterwards. She could still see the look on Deborah’s husband’s distraught face. Luke Jenkins.
She was there when they found the body of a woman in the river, down by the Marcliff Weir. That had been a few weeks after Deborah’s disappearance. She’d been the one to ask Luke for something that may contain his wife’s DNA, for elimination purposes. She remembered him holding his children and sobbing into the little girl’s hair. After obtaining the DNA and cross-matching it to the victim, it was found that the woman’s body was not that of his wife, Deborah.
From what she remembered without opening the file, the body had never been identified. No one had been reported missing at the time. She remembered the hours they’d spent going through missing persons, trying to find a match. Appeal after appeal brought no new evidence or witnesses to light. The only thing they knew was that the woman had died by drowning approximately four weeks before she was found. There was no evidence of trauma or violence but there had been track marks on her body. Images of the woman’s body flashed through her mind as she thought back. She remembered her waxy skin, her thin strands of light brown hair with dark roots. Her slightly crooked nose.
She shivered. ‘Well, well. Deborah Jenkins. It’s been a long time. She’s still close by and she’s alive,’ said Jacob.
‘That’s a result I wasn’t expecting,’ said Gina. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘Who could the stranger on the phone be? The one requesting the DNA test?’ O’Connor asked.
The wind howled and rain began to hit the window. Gina dragged her old cardigan from the back of the chair and pulled it over her shoulders. ‘I’d bet all the money I have that he’s the father. What on earth is going on? She vanishes for four years. She gives birth in secret a couple of days ago. Her baby turns up outside Cleevesford Library. A man calls anonymously.’ The room was silenced as everyone fell deep into thought. ‘We need to set up a task force and we need to do it now. Her life could be in danger. We need to find this man. If we find him, we find her. Make a start, O’Connor. I’ll join you in a minute.’
‘I’ll get onto it right now,’ O’Connor said as he left, closing the door behind him.
She sneezed once again. ‘I think I’m going to need more than coffee when we speak to Deborah Jenkins’ husband and mother about this,’ Gina said.
Jacob nodded and rubbed his eyes. ‘I love this job. You never know what’s coming next.’
‘You certainly don’t. We need to refresh ourselves with the old case notes.’
‘I’m going to drag up the history. I’ll check back with you in a while.’
‘Do that. I want every resource at our disposal used on Deborah Jenkins. I want her found. That case has haunted me for years.’
He nodded and left her office. Gina slumped in her chair and remembered the night she’d interviewed the husband in his home. Deborah’s mother had been with him. She’d been looking after their children that day while he and Deborah had been at work. Deborah had worked late to make up time. Both Deborah’s mother and husband were adamant that her disappearance was out of character. Their relationship was better than ever. They had two lovely children who he said had ‘completed them’. She’d never seen a man so broken.
Unless bringing the baby back was a symbolic gesture, Deborah was close by. How come there had never been a sighting or a medical appointment? Her details had been passed on to all the local GP surgeries at the time and nothing had ever come back. Gina made a note on her pad to consider that Deborah had changed her identity. Had she received medical care during her pregnancy? Looking at the notes on the clumsy delivery, she suspected that Deborah hadn’t been to see a doctor. They’d found the identity of the mother, but finding out her whereabouts was going to be the difficult task.
The man on the phone. What did he have to do with it all and why did he want the baby identified? They were definitely looking at a possible abduction. Gina ran a scenario in her head: it’s a wet wintery night, at a time where most of the people working on the industrial estate have gone home. Deborah is walking alone in the dark, aiming to get to the bus stop. To get there she has to pass several units by walking on the pathways alongside the road. She is heading towards a tree-lined cut-through, where there are only a few street lamps to light the way. Just before she gets there she is approached. There is a struggle and she loses a shoe. He forces her into his vehicle and drives off. He’s had her all this time.
An email popped up on her screen from Briggs.
This is going to be big. I want to know everything as and when it happens. Find Deborah Jenkins.
Thirteen
The rising sun, still low in the sky, glinted off the draining board as Luke finished wiping it. He threw the cloth beside the sink and walked over to the photo of him, Debbie and the kids. He traced her face with his index finger before placing the photo in the top drawer. Cathy was right, he had to move on, and the photos were a constant reminder of what had happened. He would get a few of the best photos of Debbie framed for the kids’ bedrooms, but today was the start of the next chapter in his life. He grabbed his phone off the worktop and called Brooke, but she didn’t answer. He looked at his watch. The kids would be out with Cathy for a while. Maybe he’d take a walk over to Brooke’s and see if she wanted to go for a stroll over the fields. It was close enough that he could get home quickly if Cathy came back and called to see where he was.
He thought back to when they’d gone to the party, hand in hand, to pick their children up. There were no sneers, only people smiling kindly, as if they’d hoped for this outcome all along. And then there was the night before that, when they’d gone back to hers and had a movie night with the kids. If only Joe hadn’t interrupted them. The feel of Brooke’s soft skin lingered in his thoughts.
There was a knock at the door. Brooke. She always tapped twice in quick succession. His heart buzzed with excitement. He grabbed the tea towel off the side, folded it up and then placed it neatly next to the cooker. He hadn’t been expecting her to call by. Maybe she’d been thinking about him as much as he had her. He checked his reflection in the stainless-steel splash plate behind the cooker and jogged to the door.