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“Bring her with you next time you come,” she says.
Griffin notices her eyelids drooping. He sits quietly for a while, listening to her slow, rasping breathing. He remembers his childhood, growing up with Cara. Carefree days, not a worry in the world except for reaching the next level on Lemmings, racing his sister on Super Mario Cart. Cara was smarter than him but hadn’t rubbed his face in it, his grades trailing hers by miles. Even though he was younger, he’d always been bigger, protecting her on the playground when she needed it, a steady arm around her shoulder at their father’s funeral at the age of sixteen. He’d joined the force first; then, after university, to his surprise, she’d done the same, quickly overtaking him. She was the better result of their upbringing.
He stands up to go but then catches a glimpse of a photo, hidden behind the others. It’s an old one. In it he’s clean-shaven; short, neat hair; in a suit. Must have been a wedding, maybe Tilly’s christening. And she’s next to him, smiling broadly, her arm around his waist.
His wife was beautiful. Sometimes he wonders if he’s built her up in his mind, but no, this photo proves it. Long, curly black hair, sharp green eyes, a delicate chin. She had been too good for him, and he’d known it, but he would have done anything for Mia. She’d softened him, she made him palatable for the first time to the outside world. She had been his everything.
He feels his jaw clench, something stick in his throat. The familiar tension returns. He puts the frame down, but before he does so, he takes the photo out of the back and puts it in his pocket.
He bends down slowly and gives his mother a gentle kiss on the cheek, picking up her blanket from where it has fallen on the floor, tucking it carefully around her.
“Bye, Mom,” he whispers.
CHAPTER
17
CARA THROWS GRIFFIN’S file on to the passenger seat with disgust and starts the engine. She’s got too much going on of her own without Griffin’s delusions to worry about, and his latest obsession seems more surreal than usual. Serial killers? For Christ’s sake! He’s going to get himself fired, and then what? He’ll end up living in that basement forever.
She starts the engine and goes to put the car into gear, then stops. He’d said “we,” hadn’t he? “You’ll see that we’re right.” Who was he referring to? She frowns. She can’t think about this now.
Deakin’s waiting for her as she arrives back at the station.
“What did he want?” he asks. She knows who he’s talking about.
She pushes past him and stands in front of the massive board. Information and photographs now cover it, headlines from the postmortems scribbled up. Two girls murdered. Griffin’s right. It’s not a common occurrence.
“What do we have from CCTV?” she asks, ignoring Deakin’s question.
He opens his eyes wide at her obvious bad mood, then points to Toby Shenton, where he has footage up on his screen.
Shenton glances up at Cara, and his face colors. She feels a flash of irritation, then checks herself. The last thing this kid’s self-confidence needs is a bashing from his superior officer; it’s not her DC’s fault her brother’s a nightmare.
“So, we’ve finished tracking the whole of the victims’ journey,” Noah begins. They both sit down at the desk, watching as Shenton expertly flicks from screen to screen. “The quality of the CCTV varies, but here we have them arriving at the club”—Shenton changes the view—“then leaving at twelve minutes past one.”
Noah nods at Shenton, and he takes over the narrative.
“They walk together down the road here,” he says. “Then they stop at this junction for about five minutes. Until this car arrives.”
Cara watches as the blue Ford Galaxy pulls up next to them. Only the rear of the car is in the shot, and the two girls go out of sight. Talking to him at the front window, Cara assumes.
“No other camera views?” she asks.
“None.”
“Witnesses?”
“A few bystanders and other students earlier on, as they’re walking down the road, but it’s quieter here. There’s no one else in shot.”
Cara watches as one of the girls returns into view, opening the back door and getting into the car. It drives away and Shenton looks up at her.
“And that’s it.”
“Nothing on traffic cams? No other footage?” Cara sighs. “City’s smothered in CCTV and that’s it?”
Noah steps in as Shenton stutters in the face of Cara’s disappointment. “That’s what I said, but it’s all we have. Either the guy was lucky, or he knew precisely where to drive to avoid the cameras.”
She hears what Noah’s saying. This is a man who knows what he’s doing.
