Durham University School of Medicine and Health was located at the Queen’s Campus in Stockton, around twenty miles south-east of Durham City itself. Daniels parked the Toyota right outside on double yellow lines and asked Lisa Carmichael to wait in the car.
‘Move it if necessary. I don’t intend being long,’ she said.
She got out and stood for a moment looking up at the building. John Snow College – named after the nineteenth-century Yorkshire obstetrician to Queen Victoria – was a modern, purpose-built affair with a waterside location on the south bank of the river Tees. Impressive too, Daniels thought, as she walked through the front door.
Inside the main entrance, Jessica’s personal tutor was waiting to greet her. Maria Wilson was a lady nearing retirement age. She had funky, spiky, dyed red hair peeping out from a purple and blue headscarf which she had tied with a bow at a natty angle, floppy ends hanging loose over her brow. Very cheerful and arty. Much like the woman herself. She was anxious about Jessica and keen to assist in any way she could.
‘I was horrified to learn she’d gone missing, and so soon after the death of poor Amy Grainger.’ Maria told Daniels that the whole university community had been stunned by recent events. Her peers were holding their collective breath that Jess hadn’t suffered the same fate. ‘If there is anything we can do, anything at all, just ask.’
‘Do you happen to know who her close friends were?’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t. Jessica was a sociable girl, I’m sure, but her dealings with me were purely academic. I’m certain no student, or indeed staff member, has heard from her though, or they’d have come forward by now. We put a poster up with the telephone number of your incident room in case anyone wanted to ring you in confidence.’
‘That’s really kind.’ Daniels wished the public were always this helpful. ‘Was Jessica the type to go off without telling someone first?’
‘I wouldn’t have said so.’ Maria Wilson sighed. ‘She always struck me as such a level-headed student. It’s in the genes, I guess. I take it you’ve met her father. He’s a formidable man, if ever I saw one.’
Deflecting her away from Finch, Daniels asked about the boyfriend. ‘I’ve been led to believe Jessica was close to a fellow student, though I gather it wasn’t common knowledge. I’d like to speak with Rob Lester as a matter of urgency. It’s possible he may have been the last person to have seen her before she disappeared. If you could see your way to supplying his contact details, I’d appreciate that.’
The woman left the room and came back a few minutes later with a sheet of paper in her hand. Daniels took it from her, scanning the document, noting a mobile number in a box on the right.
She pulled out her phone, began entering it into the keypad.
‘If you want to speak to him now,’ Ms Wilson interrupted, ‘I’ll point him out to you.’
Daniels stopped dialling. ‘You know where he is?’
Maria glanced to the left. ‘He’s right outside.’
She led Daniels to the window. The campus grounds were full of students taking time out on perfect lawns, enjoying unseasonably good weather. Some were reading, others sleeping, Robert Lester in their midst. He was a handsome young man with exquisite skin. He wore dreadlocks, collar-length, tied at the nape of his neck, one or two shorter braids hanging loose around his face.
Daniels thanked Maria Wilson and left the building immediately. Seconds later, she approached a group of four students and held up ID. ‘Rob Lester?’ She smiled as he looked up. ‘Could you spare a moment?’
Robert Lester put down his book: Graham Poll, Seeing Red. On the front cover was a photograph of the author holding up his right hand, whistle at the ready – a warning look on his face. Seeing red was something Daniels knew a lot about. In her years in the police force she’d witnessed the descent of the red mist on numerous occasions, more often as not from violent offenders and occasionally from those charged with bringing them to justice. It was hard not to let the job get to you sometimes.
Lester’s friends made themselves scarce. Picking up their belongings, they scarpered to the edge of the freshly mown lawn where they gathered in a huddle, just far enough away to allow Daniels space to do her job but near enough to hear every word being said. The DCI sat down in the space they had vacated, feeling the warmth of the sun on her back.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt your break.’ She gestured towards a triangular cellophane packet on the ground. ‘Don’t mind me if you want to finish that. I’d like to ask you some questions about Jessica, if that’s OK, purely for information purposes, nothing at all for you to worry about. I gather you haven’t seen or heard from her for some time. Is that right?’
A slight nod – almost imperceptible.
Lester pushed away the half-eaten sandwich.
His eyes grew sad.
‘When exactly did you last see her?’
‘About eight o’clock, Tuesday.’
‘The fourth?’
Lester nodded.
‘Night or morning?’
‘Night.’ He wiped a tear from his cheek and cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry, we both had a free afternoon so we went for a walk down at the river and a bite to eat. Then I took her home to her place. We had a quick coffee and I left pretty much straight away. I had revision to do, y’know, stuff I’d been avoiding.’
‘And you didn’t call her after that?’
Lester shook his head. ‘She was getting an early night.’
‘What kind of young woman is she?’
Lester raised his head, light filling his bloodshot eyes. ‘She’s brilliant. Not just academically but a brilliant person too. We’re on the same med course. You think something awful has happened to her, don’t you?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out. The more information I have, the quicker I can get on with it.’ Daniels tried not to sound alarmist. ‘Would you describe Jessica as happy?’
‘Now she is.’ The student hesitated. ‘She was a bit withdrawn when she started her course last year, wasn’t really sure what branch of medicine she wanted to study. This term she really got into it though, said she could see herself being a regular doctor, making a difference in the Third World. She has plans to go to Africa, but her father doesn’t approve. He wants her to be a surgeon like his father was.’
‘You’re more than just good friends?’
‘Yes, we are. Something else her father disapproved of.’
‘Why was that?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘You’re suggesting he’s a racist?’ Daniels said, considering motive.
Lester was struggling for composure now. He looked away and didn’t answer. His fellow students were still keeping watch, their fingers hovering over their mobiles. Daniels had to be careful not to give anything away that might make a social media network and queer her pitch. She asked Lester to walk with her. When they were out of earshot of the others, they danced around the subject of Adam Finch until the young man finally lost his cool.
He didn’t even try to hide his contempt. ‘The guy’s a control freak. We’ve had to keep our relationship a secret. You have no idea what that’s like.’
Daniels knew exactly what it was like. ‘Is that why she moved out of halls?’
Lester nodded.
‘You have a key to Jess’s accommodation?’
‘I’ve told you, she’s not there!’
‘I believe you, Rob. All the same, I must check it out. I take it nothing’s been touched in her digs since she disappeared?’
‘No, nothing, as far as I can tell,’ he said, his voice softer than before.
‘Is it far from here?’
‘She commutes from Durham, unless she’s staying over with me.’ He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a bunch of keys, removing one from a VW key ring. Handing it to the DCI, his eyes misted over as if he were about to cry. ‘She was happy in halls until her father stuck his nose in. He thinks we’ve split up.’ He took in Daniels’ nod. ‘She loves Durham. She loves the cobbled streets, the shops. She’s really into the history and culture of the place. We spend a lot of time there.’
Daniels took down the address, a flat in Old Elvet. She thanked him, saying she’d be in touch, and walked briskly back to her car.