The camera zoomed out, and Alice could now see the image of Kerry Valentine was one of two posters on a pale blue wall, in front of which were sitting DC Hazelton and two other detectives. A scroll of text at the bottom of the screen advised the press conference was live.
Next to Hazelton was the older man who’d cuffed Ben at the wedding: DI Vernon. His shirt and tie looked just as dishevelled as it had done on Saturday night, and the dark bags beneath his eyes looked like they’d been there most of his life. He was clearly thinning on the crown of his head, but he’d made no effort with the rest of his hair, as the granite-coloured strands sprouted out in all directions. He was anything but the poster boy for modern law enforcement. He bowed his head, silently rereading the page of typed notes that had probably been prepared for him, as a flurry of camera flashes lit up the screen.
He coughed. ‘Right ladies and gentleman, if I can have your attention, please?’
His voice wasn’t what Alice had expected. She didn’t remember the Yorkshire twang when he’d briefly spoken to her outside the hotel, but with everything else that had been going on that was hardly surprising.
He scratched a dry finger over his cheek and looked up, his eyes meeting Alice’s through the glare of the screen. ‘We are here today to share details of a horrific crime perpetrated around ten days ago in the Bournemouth area. The victim – whom you can see on the screens behind me – is Kerry Valentine, 22 and local to the Boscombe area. She was last seen in the town centre around half past eleven on the night of Saturday, the 27th of July, just over a week ago. We are today appealing for witnesses who may have seen her after this time, or may have any information about what happened to her.’
Alice’s eyes hadn’t left the screen since he’d started speaking. The image of Kerry over his left shoulder made her look even younger and more vulnerable than she had appeared in the pictures on Dave’s phone.
The detectives were alone at the desk, there was no sign of upset parents or a boyfriend, and Alice could only assume they were gone or couldn’t bring themselves to share their grief on camera for the world to see. Even so, it didn’t seem right that there was nobody there to reflect this poor girl’s humanity.
The images of Kerry disappeared, replaced by a road map with a large green line at the centre.
‘We know this is the route she would have taken home,’ DI Vernon continued, his accent even more noticeable now. ‘She was last seen at this abandoned building, the former Merry Berry bar, where she was performing a dance routine for a group of men. She exited the premises at approximately eleven thirty, leaving through the bar’s fire escape, which would have brought her out onto this road.’ He paused, stood and pointed at the map. ‘Bennett Road. We have no record of what happened to her after this time. There is no CCTV in that area, so we are asking any drivers who happened to be in the area at that time to come forward.’
Vernon retook his seat and glanced down at his notes before staring into the camera again. ‘The forensic pathologist has confirmed time of death as between eleven thirty and one a.m. that Saturday night, so it is vital we speak with anyone who may have seen Kerry during this time, or who may have spotted someone acting suspiciously.’
Alice’s pulse quickened.
Kerry had died in the immediate aftermath of her dance with Ben.
‘Kerry’s body was pulled from the River Stour on Friday morning, which means whoever killed her held onto the body for at least a couple of days before disposing of it.’ He paused and exhaled deeply. ‘Somebody out there knows what happened to this poor girl, and we urge that individual to get in touch as quickly as possible. It is also an offence to harbour a criminal, and if you know who was responsible and keep quiet, you too will be subject to the full force of the law.’
The camera panned out so the three detectives and two images of Kerry filled the screen again.
‘We have taken statements from the witnesses who saw her leave the bar,’ Vernon continued, ‘and they have confirmed that Kerry was dressed in a miniskirt, lace top and petite leather jacket. Do you remember seeing anyone matching that description near Bennett Road on Saturday night or early Sunday morning? Did you hear a woman screaming for help anywhere in that vicinity? While we don’t wish to share the exact cause of death at this time, her slaying was brutal and deliberate.’
DC Hazelton had yet to stare into the camera, keeping her head gently bowed, her eyes fixed on a single point on the table before her. Dressed in a black T-shirt, she clearly wasn’t one who revelled in the media’s spotlight, and Alice would bet it hadn’t been her idea to be sitting behind that table.
‘The number for the enquiries line is on the screen now,’ Vernon continued. ‘You don’t have to give your name, but any information that leads to the capture of the person responsible will be gratefully received. My team and I will be on standby waiting for your call.’
Alice jumped as Ben appeared behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist.
‘I was beginning to worry,’ he said, pressing his lips against the side of her neck. ‘I was about to send out a search party. What are you watch …?’ His words trailed off as his eyes landed on the screen and he saw the image of Kerry.
‘The police are appealing for witnesses,’ Alice said, turning to face him. ‘They’ve confirmed she died in the hours following her booking with you guys.’
The blood drained from his face. ‘Oh God, it’s all our fault.’
Alice stepped back, and for the first time saw just what an impact all this stress was having on Ben. Until now, she hadn’t considered what all this must be doing to him. He’d gone out of his way to apologize to her for messing up the wedding, and she didn’t doubt his sincerity. She hadn’t considered how much it had to be eating him up inside, knowing that he and his friends were an indirect cause of Kerry’s death.
‘If they hadn’t hired her, she wouldn’t have been in that area that night,’ he said, swallowing slowly. ‘We’re responsible.’
Alice’s heart sank. ‘No, Ben, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. You weren’t to know that hiring her to strip would result in someone killing her.’
‘One of us should have offered to walk her home or ordered her a taxi.’ He collapsed into her as his legs turned to jelly, and it was all she could do to get him onto one of the stools beside the bar.
‘Can we have a whisky?’ Alice asked, as the barman returned.
The barman nodded and poured a measure. Pressing the glass into Ben’s hand, Alice told him to take a sip.
‘It will help with the shock,’ she advised. ‘I can drive us home afterwards.’
She’d never seen him look so upset, and it seemed as though he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
‘I can’t help it,’ he said, lowering the glass. ‘Every time I close my eyes I see her dancing in front of me. I should have done more to help her. We could have ordered her a taxi, or offered to give her a lift home. We just left her. We should have done more.’
Although Alice’s stomach grumbled again, her appetite was gone. ‘Let’s get out of here. We can pick up some chips on the way home.’
He didn’t disagree and climbed down from the stool, leaving the remains of the whisky in the glass. Alice escorted him out to the car before returning to explain to Mariella that Ben wasn’t feeling very well, and apologizing for rushing off. Mariella insisted they return again when Ben was feeling better, but from the look of him, Alice wasn’t sure if he’d ever feel better again.