Nine Lives, Anita Waller [best interesting books to read .txt] 📗

into his face. He gasped as he climbed up, and was aware of Mike Nestor by his side, helping him.

‘You okay?’ Mike shouted.

Ian merely nodded, feeling winded.

He leaned against the bankside and gathered his thoughts, spitting out river water. He could see Flick asking if he was okay but hadn’t the strength to answer, so simply waved a hand.

Mike held up a thumb towards Flick and slowly worked his way back across to where he had been when he saw Ian go in. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy day, and when he had told his wife what he would be spending the day doing, she had laughed. His fear of water and swimming was well known within his family, but there was no way he would ever admit it at work.

He was up to his waist in torrential flood waters, on an uneven and rocky river bed, and he doubted he would ever be afraid of water again. This day’s work wiped out every bit of aquaphobia he had ever had.

He raised a hand to Sam to indicate that Ian was okay, but Sam was looking further down the river, on the opposite bank, binoculars glued to his face. Mike eased himself out and knelt for a moment in the mud, before clambering up to go to his partner.

‘What is it?’

Sam handed him the glasses. ‘That big rock about a hundred yards down. There’s something…’

Mike wiped the water from his eyes, then raised the binoculars. He was silent for a moment. ‘Shit,’ he said finally, ‘isn’t that…?’

Sam took the binoculars back and looked again. ‘It’s a leg, isn’t it.’

Mike took out his mobile phone and rang Ian. ‘Think you might need to work your way down your side. There’s a big rock. Tread carefully, there’s something on the other side of it. Ian – we think it’s another body. Looks like we can see a leg.’

8

Everything seemed to happen at once. Erica and Beth had snapped seat belts into place, and Erica had started the engine. Her phone rang out, and she answered it, registering it was Ivor Simmonite’s name on her screen.

‘Clever girl,’ were his opening words.

‘I am?’

‘You are. Our blonde lady was definitely in the pocket park. We found two strands of long blonde hair. They were on the iron hand rail support, so it looks as though he wedged her on the steps, probably with her back to the upright. It’s quite possible that the water reached her and took her into the river, but her hair was already caught on the upright. It’s a match to her.’

‘So he did pose her…’ Erica breathed out quietly, feeling sick that this, in her mind, confirmed it was the same killer, surfacing once more after five years of inactivity.

‘He did, it seems.’

‘Thank you, Ivor. I’ll pop down to see you when I get back. I’ve another call coming in, I’ll see you later.’

She disconnected and took the next call without checking her screen, so was surprised when Becky said her name.

‘Hi, Becky. Is something wrong?’

She listened to Becky’s rather incoherent, garbled answer, and disconnected with the words, ‘We’ll be there in ten minutes.’

‘Problem?’ Beth asked.

‘Problem. Clare Vincent didn’t come home last night.’

Erica put the car into drive, and they headed for the student house, both of them hoping Clare Vincent would have turned up by the time they got there. It was only as they reached Crookesvale Gardens that Erica’s phone rang again.

This time the caller was Ian Thomas.

Erica left Beth to deal with developments around Becky and Katie and headed for the source of the river at Ringinglow. Her instructions to Beth had been to remain at the house, and to organise at least one other officer to join her there. The girls were to stay put until they could sort out a safe refuge for them and she had every confidence that Beth could pull it all off without letting them know that there was a strong possibility that the newly-discovered body by the side of the river was Clare Vincent.

Beth was struggling. She wasn’t dealing with irresponsible teenagers who gullibly believed everything she said, she was handling mature, intelligent women who guessed she knew more than she was saying. She felt a sense of relief when her colleague Will Bramwell arrived, and Becky quickly made drinks for everyone, before handing details of Clare’s parents’ address in Doncaster over to Beth.

‘We didn’t know whether to ring her mum, but decided not to worry her yet.’

Beth smiled at Becky. ‘Thank you. We’ll see to it. She doesn’t have a father?’

‘No, he died two years ago. Her mum isn’t well, either. I hope she turns up soon so she doesn’t have to know Clare is being a tad irresponsible.’

Will kept them entertained, tried to keep their minds away from the horrors they were both clearly feeling, and waited patiently with the girls while Beth left to speak to Erica, telling her the situation at the house. They agreed it was time to tell Becky and Katie the terrible news.

Clare Vincent’s short curly hair was plastered to her head, and her body glistened with rainwater. This time the pose favoured by the killer had remained in place, and her hands were crossed over her stomach. Her breasts and pubic area were on display for all to see, until Forensics arrived to set up their tent. Erica confirmed it was Clare Vincent, and arranged for the teams further downriver to join them at the source. The refreshment van and Portaloo were called in, and it looked like being a long day.

Erica checked with Ian that he was okay – he had been first on scene to see the body, but she got the impression he was angry rather than upset. She knew how that felt; she felt the same. A second twenty-year-old to lose her life in two days, both girls filled with such promise and leaving distraught parents and families.

Ian was placed in charge of organising