Page 120 of Twisted Lies
‘Passed a traffic cam on Vicarage Road at 9.45 this morning.’
‘And he threw himself off the bridge at around four, so he had a good few hours to torture her.’
‘Let’s stick with the good news, Stace, that it looks like the boss is heading in the right direction, eh?’ he said without looking up. ‘Now, I’m gonna plot a route from the recycling centre to the aqueduct and see if we can find out what time he left.’
‘Anything I can help with?’ Stacey asked as her desk phone rang.
‘Hey, Jack,’ she answered.
‘DC Wood, could you come down to reception? I’ve got a lady here who would like a word.’
‘I’m a bit busy at the minute,’ she said. Surely he knew they were dispatching teams all over the immediate area.
‘Yeah, but she insists. Wants to talk about Jacob Powell.’
‘Who is she?’
‘Head teacher of some school or another who thinks she’s a famous singer.’
She put down the phone and headed out of the office, past Penn, who was looking more troubled than she would have liked.
One Hundred Three
‘Penn thinks we’re on the right track,’ Kim said, ending the call.
By her reckoning they were about two miles out, and inadvertently her fingers had crossed in her lap.
Every ounce of logic told her that the woman was dead; but if he could make one mistake in leaving Sarah alive, he could do it again.If there’s any chance you’re alive, Leanne, hang on for just a little bit longer, she prayed.
It was fair to say that the two of them hadn’t hit it off, and although no one, not even Bryant, had remarked on the similarities between them, it was a fact Kim was coming to realise. Yes, she blamed the woman for not letting them in on the secret in time to save lives, but would she herself have done anything differently?
It was a question she still hadn’t answered by the time Bryant turned into Botterham Lane.
The privately owned recycling plant didn’t look as she’d imagined it. She’d pictured a dilapidated building, worn from age and use.
‘Outgrew itself, guv,’ Bryant said, reading her thoughts. ‘Moved to a bigger plant in Oldbury.’
‘Park here,’ she said, seeing an opening in the fence between two battered and dented skips.
‘I can probably drive around and get us closer to—’
‘Takes too long. We’ll walk from here,’ she said, getting out of the car.
Bryant followed her through the gap in the fencing and stood by her side as she appraised the building that appeared to be around an acre in size. The external grounds she could see appeared as though they had been left halfway through a shift. A couple of wheelie trolleys had been parked beside cubes of mulched paper.
‘Okay, you go left and I’ll go right,’ she instructed.
‘Sshh…’ he said, putting his fingers to his lips.
‘Why? We’re either gonna find her or not, but at least we know where our murderer is, so feel free to make as much noise as you like.’
He nodded his understanding as he headed off to the west side of the building.
She headed east, to a small entrance door beside a double roller shutter.
The torch on her phone didn’t pick up a can that clattered along the ground.
Her heart jumped into her mouth before she remembered there was no one here to fear.
