Tuesday 25 January, 07:30
Emma’s home was a small, one-bed flat in a new build apartment block. Loxton and Kowalski had suited up in forensic coveralls, gloves and masks. She used the key that the uniform officer had given her to open the boarded-up front door, which they had forced to gain entrance a few hours earlier.
It felt strange to be in Emma’s flat without hearing her voice, her laughter peeling through the rooms. Loxton had been here so many times before for dinner and drinks. Without Emma, the place looked dreary and cold.
There were no obvious signs of a disturbance, but something didn’t feel right. The flat felt abandoned somehow. Emma’s red coat was missing and there was no handbag lying around. No mobile either. It was as if Emma had never returned home after their night out.
‘Got something,’ Kowalski called to her from the bathroom. She followed his voice and saw he was going through Emma’s bathroom cabinet. He pointed at a little pedal bin under the sink. Loxton examined the contents – a single blue toothbrush and a man’s deodorant. ‘Looks like a man stayed here recently,’ Kowalski said. ‘Did she have a boyfriend?’
Emma hadn’t mentioned anyone the other night. Then Loxton remembered what had seemed strange about her. She’d been cautious about Loxton getting into another relationship after Alec Saunders. Was this man a mistake that Emma didn’t want people to know about? If only Loxton had asked Emma how she was doing. Why hadn’t she asked?
Kowalski kept searching through the bathroom cabinet. He held up a packet of contraceptive pills, and then another with ‘Fluoxetine’ written on the box. The prescription labels said they had both been made out to Emma. Kowalski checked his mobile and looked surprised. ‘Fluoxetine’s an anti-depressant. Was Emma depressed?’
‘She didn’t say anything,’ Loxton said, thinking that it was true – you never really knew what people were struggling with when they were back inside their own private worlds.
In the bedroom, they found condoms in the bedside drawer. ‘Looks like there must have been a recent boyfriend,’ Loxton said. ‘We need to find out who he is.’ She was confused that Emma hadn’t mentioned anyone. She was usually so open; she never seemed to censor herself, often telling them all far too much information. She was the most honest person Loxton knew.
‘There’s got to be something here.’ Kowalski rummaged through Emma’s drawers and Loxton stood watching in dumb silence. This was a friend’s home and here they were riffling through her belongings. It wasn’t right.
Kowalski glanced at her and paused for a moment, pressing his lips together. Then he turned back to what he was doing and she forced herself to go over to the wardrobe. Time was ticking, and she knew every second counted.
On the inside of the wardrobe door were a few photos, Blu-Tacked on. There was one of Emma and Loxton and their old team, all laughing together at a Christmas party. Loxton remembered the rich dinner and, later, the aniseed shots.
She studied each photograph as if she would be able to see the clue to her friend’s whereabouts within one.
Loxton spotted Emma’s mum in one image, somewhere sunny, and she realized mother and daughter shared the same infectious grin. They were so alike.
She noticed a space where a photo had been taken down, remnants of Blu-Tac still visible. She walked over to the little wastepaper bin in the corner of the room and, sure enough, inside was a torn-up photograph. She crouched down next to the bin and picked up the two pieces, fitting them together.
It was a photo of Emma next to a handsome man in his thirties with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had his arm wrapped tight around Emma’s waist and she was beaming at the camera. It looked like they were in a cocktail bar. Loxton didn’t recognize him, but the photo looked recent. Emma was wearing her red winter coat.
Kowalski glanced down at Loxton and the photo. ‘Is this the boyfriend?’
‘Maybe an ex now by the looks of it.’ They didn’t have a name yet, but at least they had a photo of him. It was something.
Loxton called Patel. ‘Meena, can you check Emma’s phone records? See who her top three contacts were in the last month. Looks like she had a recent boyfriend. We don’t have a name yet.’
‘Will do,’ Patel said. ‘Hopefully his phone’s on contract. I should be able to get you his name and address.’
‘Thank you,’ Loxton said. Why wouldn’t Emma have mentioned this man? Perhaps the break-up had been too painful to talk about. Loxton felt a chill run down her spine as she looked at the man’s smiling face, slightly distorted by the ripped edges.
She checked the rest of the wardrobe. It was full of clothes, as was the chest of drawers. It didn’t look like Emma had packed to go anywhere; her wheelie suitcase was there, empty. Loxton riffled through the wardrobe again. She couldn’t find a silver dress and heels anywhere. Or Emma’s red coat. She looked inside the wash basket and washing machine in the kitchen.
‘What is it?’ Kowalski asked, following her into the kitchen.
‘Emma was wearing a silver dress and heels on Saturday night, but they’re not here. It means she probably never made it back home.’
Kowalski nodded. ‘We’ll call Winter if we haven’t found them by the end of the search.’
They moved into the small living room and Kowalski held up Emma’s passport after checking the sideboard. He looked worried.
‘Where the hell is she?’ Loxton asked, feeling a growing sense of unease. It was getting harder to pretend Emma had just gone away for a few days. ‘And where are Forensics?’
‘There’s not much for them to do here,’ Kowalski said. ‘But they won’t be long.’
‘They can at least use luminol for any blood traces.’ Loxton felt a surge of anger as they continued searching. Something didn’t feel right about the flat, but she couldn’t quite say what it was.
By the end of the search they knew for certain that Emma’s red coat, silver dress and heels were missing; there was no mobile, purse or bank cards and her warrant card wasn’t anywhere to be found. Emma’s work laptop had been on her coffee table. She wouldn’t have gone to her night shift without it. She would have needed it. From what they’d found so far, it looked like Emma had never made it back home on Saturday night.