Page 25 of The Girl in the Grave
Barry took them inside the lock-up where the tools and heavy machinery were kept. Josh and Sam checked it thoroughly, but there were no trap doors or concealed rooms, nothing but spades and lawnmowers. Next, he took them to a large empty shed and gave them a quick tour of the offices where the staff room and locker rooms were.
‘What did I tell you? If there was a woman being held here against her will, I’d have known about it, and don’t you think I’d have rung you lot? She’s not here.’
‘What about the old chapel?’
‘It’s fenced off and boarded up, but you can go look for yourself. Someone must have had a look around already; you lot have been hanging around by that grave opposite for long enough. Anyway, I check it’s all secure at the beginning of every shift because of squatters. Nothing to report.’
Josh didn’t want to admit defeat despite the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. ‘Thanks for your time. If you notice anything amiss or strange…’
‘…Then I’ll ring you lot straight away.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. Whatever that stupid bugger Jason has done it isn’t what you’re thinking. I’m never wrong about people, I’ve always had a gut instinct about them. You’re wasting your time chasing him when you should be looking for the sick bastard who’s doing this.’
Barry walked away, back towards the offices. Sam looked at Josh.
‘He could be right, boss. What if we’re barking up the wrong tree and wasting time?’
‘We can’t rule him out simply because good old Barry’s “gut instinct is never wrong”. But I think we need to keep our options open. Where else can we look?’
Before Sam could answer him, he answered himself. ‘Let’s pay the undertaker’s a visit, Dean&Sons.’
Sam grimaced. ‘I’ve seen enough dead bodies for one day.’
‘Sorry, but I need you to charm your way in there. We’ll need to have a look around if they’ll do it without a warrant. Both of them are a bit odd from memory, rarely ever say more than hello, goodbye when I’ve had to call them out to a sudden death.’
‘What makes you think they’ll say more than that to me?’
‘You have a way with words and the younger one – is it James? I think it is – he’s the lonely type. I think he’ll like you.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I remember a few years ago there was a bit of a fuss when his brother was showing a customer around and walked in on James screwing a new member of staff on top of one of the trolleys where they put the coffins.’
‘How the hell do you even know this stuff, Josh?’
‘I know everything. It’s called being a good copper.’
She rolled her eyes at him. ‘No, it’s called being agossip.’
Thirty-Nine
The pub was literally thirty steps from the hall they had just come from, but Beth stayed close to Phil as they walked through the doors, her stomach full of butterflies. She knew she was being completely ridiculous. How on earth could she ever enjoy her life if she lived this way forever? He’d won if she did. He might not have succeeded in killing her that night, but would it have been better than this slow, torturous non-existence?
As they queued at the busy bar, Phil told her to go and sit with the others and he’d bring the drinks over. She shook her head: she was paying for this round. It was the least she could do.
‘You didn’t have to do that!? I can stoop to two halfs of lager, a blackcurrant and a glass of wine.’
She laughed. ‘If you do that every week, is it even worth your while running the classes?’
‘Yes, most definitely. I like to think of it as my chance to give something back to the community. I also hope I help people who’ve been through a terrible time gain the confidence to make sure it will never happen again.’
He picked up three glasses and walked towards the small table the others had squeezed themselves around. Beth had to blink several times to stop the tears from falling. He was right, and she wished she could thank him in a better way than buying a round of drinks. She squeezed in to a small gap next to Audrey and Bob, who both smiled at her.
‘It’s lovely to see you here, Beth,’ said Audrey. ‘We’ve often wondered what you do for a living. Bob thinks you’re a copper. I think you might be a doctor. Maybe a GP, but you’re definitely not a housewife because you’re always on call.’
All eyes were on her. She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t. She needed to do this, to see what life was like on the other side of fear.
