Behind Dead Eyes (DC Ian Bradshaw #2) - Howard Linskey Page 0,147
new line of enquiry,’ he told her blandly.
‘What?’ she asked and she looked as if she was about to completely lose it. ‘Is that all you have to say for yourself?’
‘Yes,’ he said simply, ‘and I know who the burned girl is.’
DI Tennant didn’t quite hear him at first. Her mouth was already open as she had been about to administer an arse-kicking of immense proportions in which trust, honesty, integrity and professionalism would have played a major part. ‘What did you just say?’ she asked him instead.
Later, when Ian Bradshaw released Callie McQuire without charge, she went straight to the car where Helen was waiting for her. He had not yet found the nerve to tell her about Diane and reasoned it was best to leave this till their investigation was concluded. Ian beckoned Tom over and told him everything he had learned from the girl.
‘And the photograph?’ asked Tom.
‘Looks genuine,’ said Bradshaw.
‘Christ,’ hissed Tom, for even now he half expected it all to be some kind of con, or a case of mistaken identity, ‘it’s definitely Jarvis?’
Bradshaw nodded.
‘Were is it now?’
Bradshaw patted his chest to show it was safely in his jacket pocket.
‘Anything else?’ asked Tom when his instinct told him Bradshaw was holding something back.
‘Yeah,’ he told Tom quietly, ‘I’m pretty sure Diane Turner is the burned girl.’
‘Oh dear God,’ said Tom and he instinctively turned to look at Callie in the back seat of the car. ‘She doesn’t know? Let’s keep it that way for now. If she finds out …’ He didn’t need to complete his sentence. Both men knew there was no telling what Callie would say or do if she discovered her friend had been murdered.
‘Let’s get her away from here,’ said Tom.
They drove to Tom’s house and went inside.
‘Let’s see it then,’ said Tom.
Helen and Tom stared at the photograph for a long time without comment. There was a single grey line across the middle of the picture where one of the slats on the ventilation grille had obscured Callie’s view but she had done a good job with the camera. The top left-hand corner of the photograph showed the face of a much older man forcing himself upon an underage girl. Her face was pressed downwards and to one side so she was facing the camera in the bottom left-hand corner of the photo. There was no doubt that this was Frank Jarvis and the girl he was raping was Diane Turner. Helen and Tom exchanged looks, both of them deeply affected by the image.
‘Callie?’ asked Helen eventually, ‘did Diane show this photograph to Sandra Jarvis?’
‘I dunno.’ The denial was automatic, a reflex action Callie always employed to avoid trouble. Perhaps she belatedly realised she was with the only people in the world she could trust, for she opened up then: ‘Yeah, she must have done.’
‘What did Sandra say she would do?’ asked Tom. ‘For Diane, I mean.’
‘She said she would try and help her,’ said Callie.
‘But she didn’t, did she?’ said Tom. ‘Not at first.’
‘Did she hell. She went back to uni,’ admitted Callie, ‘but Diane didn’t expect Sandra to help her. How could she?’
‘She just wanted to tell someone about it,’ said Helen.
‘Yeah,’ said Callie, ‘she told me she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t tell somebody. She knew Sandra was alright, see, so she could tell her.’
‘A few weeks went by,’ said Tom, ‘then Sandra got back in touch with Diane.’
‘How’d you know that?’
Tom didn’t want to admit it was obvious from the timeline. Diane had told Sandra about the abuse during the Christmas holidays; Sandra had gone back to university in January and completely fallen apart. By the end of February, she had decided to do something about it. She was going to confront her father and rescue Diane. It was the only explanation for their joint disappearance.
‘How did Sandra get in touch?’ said Tom.
‘She came up to the burger bar and bought Diane some chips.’
‘Just an old friend from Meadowlands meeting up with the girl she used to help out?’ Callie nodded. ‘So the men in the place didn’t mind,’ Tom said, almost to himself. They probably thought they would get their hands on Sandra too if they let her hang out there, he reasoned. ‘But Sandra had a plan, didn’t she?’
‘She knew Diane was going to be sixteen soon. Sandra told her she could leave Meadowlands and she’d arrange it so that no man ever hurt her again.’