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“In there.”
Rome meets my gaze. Neither of us speaks. My hands are actually shaking when I flip open the lid.
I peer down, expecting to see…what? I can’t even bring myself to articulate the dread in my head. I let out a relieved torrent of expletives when I find nothing. At least, no lifeless corpse staring back up at me. Instead, the bin is stuffed with black bin liners, and the sound of ringing is sharp now, shrill and intense.
Rome reaches in and grabs the bag right at the top. He drags it out and tips the contents onto the concrete floor.
The relentless ringing persists from within the bin.
It’s not until we tear open the third bag that we find what we’re searching for.
“That’s her coat.” I drop to my haunches to pick it up. A green wool thigh-length jacket. I saw the garment hanging in her hallway at the Hope and Anchor.
“You sure?”
I nod and rifle through the pockets to find the phone, still ringing. I end the call.
“Do you know her password?” Rome asks.
“No.”
“Right. Let’s check with Casey.” He is already dialling her. “Hey,” he starts. “That phone you traced… Can you access the call history? Texts? Anything?” There’s a pause, then, “Yes, we found it, but it’s not with Jenna.” Another pause. “Great. Let us know as soon as you’re in.”
“Good thinking, bro.” I drop back to my haunches to dig through the rest of the rubbish that was in the bin bag. I find several envelopes, junk mail for the most part, but it has the evidence I need. “This lot’s addressed to some fuck by the name Felix Fuller.”
“There was a Fuller Finance listed on the sign downstairs. Fifth floor.”
I straighten. “That’s this floor. Right, let’s check it out.”
We sprint back along the corridor towards the stairs and spot the door we’re looking for. I hammer on the door of Fuller Finance with the side of my fist. I’m not surprised to get no answer and I don’t waste time trying again. I apply my boot to the lock, and the door crashes open. We enter.
The place is deserted, with no evidence to suggest the occupants left in a hurry. It’s an office, but it’s clear that Mr Fuller runs a haphazard operation. Papers are everywhere, with no apparent filing system or sense of order. Handwritten notes are piled on the battered metal desk along with correspondence and marketing circulars. A quick and particularly untidy search of the dingy facilities provides nothing of value, no obvious sign that Jenna was ever here.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “What now?”
Rome checks the rest of the suite, if that’s not too grandiose a term for what basically consists of the office, a kitchenette, and a filthy toilet.
“Nothing else here,” he replies. “Let’s go back and check the car again. There may be something we missed…”
For want of a better plan, I agree. Hopefully we’ll get something back from Casey soon. The chances are the phone will turn up something useful.
Back outside, we stride across the scrubby terrain in the direction of the parked Clio. On impulse, I check the pockets of Jenna’s coat again.
“Bingo.” I hold up a set of car keys, though the implications are not lost on me. Jenna is missing, but we know she was here. She left without her coat, her phone, her car keys. Whatever happened to her, the motive wasn’t robbery, apparently.
The electronic locking system still works. I let myself in the driver’s side this time and do a quick check around the interior. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to find. Blood? A note? A handbag or purse? There’s nothing.
Rome paces around the car and tries the boot. It’s locked, but I hit the release button in the driver’s door, and he flips open the lid.
“Christ!” He looks up at me through the rear windshield. “She’s in here.”
I leap out of the car and charge round to join him. “Is she…?”
Rome is already checking for a pulse. “She’s alive. Just.”
‘Just’ is right. Jenna is unconscious, her lovely features battered almost beyond recognition. She’s been folded in an unnatural position, her limbs jammed into the small space. She’s fully dressed, her clothing bloodstained and tattered, one shoe on her left foot, the other tossed in beside her.
“Help me get her out of there.” I reach for her, stroke the matted hair back from her face.
