‘Thank you or working hard to put this together… And to all of you who worked late. We’re having to hit the ground running here with a huge amount of historical casefiles.’ She saw how despondent everyone looked.
‘However, this should be seen as a positive. The case files could yield much more. We also have the benefit of hindsight. We also have a body. I’d like you to divide the boxes up. DC McGorry will be in charge of this. I’d also like you to pay attention to the role of the SIO on the case, DCI Amanda Baker. I want to know about her background, anything you can find about her personal life and what she’s been up to since she left the force.’
‘Like a witch hunt?’ said one of the CID Detectives, an older officer with balding sandy hair. He had piercing green eyes and was sat back with his arms folded.
‘What’s your name?’ asked Erika.
‘DI Crawford. I was a PC on this case back in 1990.’
‘Did you request the case or was it a lucky co-incidence?’
‘Lucky, or unlucky,’ he chuckled. Erika fixed him with a glare,
‘So what’s your point?’
He sat up and looked a little awkward,
‘There’s been a lot said about DCI Baker, but I always thought she was dealing with forces from both sides… She had the Collins family criticising her, and she had a lot of the top brass at the time briefing behind her back. It wasn’t right.’
‘I’m not here to trash the reputation of one of our colleagues, but she decided to take justice into her own hands with the prime suspect in the case Trevor Marksman. This is what he looked like when he was arrested,’ she said holding up the first photo. ‘And this is what he looks like now.’
There was a murmur of shock when they saw the close up headshot of Trevor Marksman with burns. ‘DCI Baker was instrumental in tipping off a group of local women who put a home made petrol bomb through his front door just over a year after Jessica went missing. He’d just been assigned a council house. He was the only person that came close to being a suspect. We need to re-visit his statements along with everything else in this case, but keep an open mind.’
Di Crawford put up his hand.
’Boss, I was involved with the search around Hayes Quarry, and the Marine did a thorough search.’
‘When was this?’
‘Must have been in November 1990.’
‘Okay. This is good. So Jessica was kept alive and or killed somewhere else and her body dumped at a later date,’ said Erika.
‘I didn’t have access to anything that went on in the incident room, ‘ he added. ‘Back then I was just a uniformed PC, full of enthusiasm. Life had yet to sand me down.’
‘I can relate to that,’ said Erika. ‘It’s good to have you on the team. A little bit of continuity with the past… Okay, everyone, I’d like your main priority to be reviewing the physical evidence. Once we get a hold of what’s in all of these boxes we can move forward. We’ll re-convene tomorrow morning for a progress report.’
The room leapt into life. Erika went over to where Moss and Peterson sat near the back.
‘You two are with me. We’re talking to the Collins family this morning and I’d appreciate your insight.’
18
Avondale Road was quiet when they approached number seven. The bare hedge was tall, and the front of the large house could be seen clearly through the branches. In the driveway were two large Range Rovers.
A handsome indian man answered the door. He was in his early thirties, and dressed smartly in a black suit. His long black hair tumbled down his shoulders and he smiled warmly. Erika introduced them and they showed their ID’s.
‘I understood that this was just the family meeting with us?’
‘I’m Tan, Tanvir Jindal. I’m Toby’s partner,’ he said. He had a soft Bradford accent, which made Erika warm to him.
They made their way through the hall and into the living room where the family waited awkwardly. Marianne sat at the end of the long sofa next to the fireplace. She looked pale and drawn. Next to her sat an attractive dark-haired woman in her forties. Heavily made up with tanned skin, and wore tight white trousers, a silk blouse with a tiger print pattern, a black jacket and lots of gold jewellery.
‘This is my daughter, Laura,’ said Marianne. The woman stood and shook hands with the officers. Erika noticed her brown eyes were bloodshot and detached. A tall lean man with pretty features, sat in an armchair beside the long sofa. He was fashionably dressed in jeans and a checked shirt with short messy blond hair. He introduced himself as Toby.
In front of the bay window, where the long wine coloured curtains were drawn tight, a middle-aged man paced up and down. He was handsome, and bald with a deep tan, and wore a white shirt and pale jeans on his slim frame. His fingers were covered in gold rings. This was Martin Collins.
‘Hello there,’ he said. His voice still had a strong Irish accent.
Seeing the rest of the family was a shock for Erika, they seemed so colourful and vital in comparison to Marianne. In her black a-line skirt and long grey woollen jumper, she seemed just as faded and dated as the furniture.
‘Please, take a seat,’ said Marianne. She indicated three high backed dining chairs in front of the sofas. Erika, Moss and Peterson sat.
‘Would you all like some tea, perhaps?’ asked Tanvir.
‘That would be very kind,’ said Erika.
‘You don’t know where anything is,’ snapped Marianne.
‘He can use a kettle, and no doubt the cups are still in the same place, above the microwave,’ said Toby. Tanvir hovered awkwardly by the door.
‘Yes, tea would be great,’ said Moss giving him a smile. ‘And we need to talk to the family.’
‘Let me make the tea,’ said Marianne.
‘He’s not contagious, Mum,’ said Toby.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean. Over ten percent of the population is gay. There’s a high chance gay people have made your clothes, packed your shopping in the supermarket…’
‘Enough!’ snapped Martin. ‘Let Tan make the bloody tea!’ Marianne, pressed a scrunched up ball of tissue to her face. Laura leaned over and a gripped her hands.
‘Sorry about this, officers,’ added Martin.