As Jim and Paul made their way to one of the offices set back from the incident room, Frank and I returned to our desks, Frank to follow up his earlier enquires, me to check if there were any messages. There was one from forensics. I returned the call, and eventually was put through to one of the scientists, a woman called Emma, whom I had met on previous occasions. Emma was in her late thirties, had been with the department a number of years, and was very good at her job.
“Hi, Emma. What you got?”
“Angie? Hi. We’ve got a match on the bloodstains on the shoe.”
“Bloodstains? I thought there was only the one?”
“To the naked eye yeah; different story under the old microscope. They’re the same blood type as Josephine’s, and we reckon they’re three days old. “Whoa…let me finish,” she went on as I tried to interrupt. “We’ve also had the initial DNA results back from the lab. The blood definitely came from Josephine.”
“Oh, Christ, no!” I gasped. “But how can you know for sure? We haven’t been able to test her.”
“We didn’t have to. Frank Kewell got a sample from her parents; they let him have her hairbrush. That’s all we needed. You might also be interested to know the lab found traces of saliva on the child’s underpants – enough for DNA testing. But you’re going to have to wait a while for definite results.”
“The poor kid,” was all I could think of to say. “Will you ring me as soon as you have something?”
“Sure. And, Angie, I’m really sorry – okay?”
“Thanks, Emma. Speak to you later.”
Jim wasn’t surprised when I passed on the information. “Let’s hope we get a break with the DNA,” he commented angrily. “The bastard might have left us something.”
“Has Dr Simmons left?” I asked.
“Yes. He’s taken copies of all the files with him. He’s going to study them overnight and get back to us tomorrow. So, how did you get on with Connie? Did she have anything more to say?”
I felt myself sighing heavily. “She told me she thought Josephine was dead. Evidently she had another vision last night. She already knew about the clothes in the field – no, I sure as hell didn’t tell her,” I snapped, reacting to his challenging scowl.
He shrugged by way of apology. “Sorry. Did she say anything else?”
“Yes. It seems, whoever this monster is, he’s not only playing games with us… Now he’s got Connie joining in. She said it was as if he was actually causing her to have the visions, and he was sneering at her.”
“Christ!” Jim said, shaking his head. “This gets more and more bizarre. Have you mentioned any of this to Paul Simmons?”
“Yes. But not in any detail. He’s not exactly a believer.”
“Well, I’m only glad he didn’t say anything in front of the superintendent; he’d have my balls in a sling! Anything more, Ange?”
“She says she saw a man carrying a body through some woods – a small girl’s body. Eventually, they crossed a common and then went over some waste ground and came to what Connie thinks is a disused mineshaft. Trouble is she’s got no idea where it is. The man then threw the body down the shaft. Connie said she felt he knew she was watching, but that only seemed to excite him. She’s still convinced, by the way, that he will come after her. That’s the main reason she left the hospital.”
He leant back in his chair contemplatively. “Do you think this could be the same man she had the visions about before?”
“You think there might be a link with those murders in the past?”
He shrugged non-committal. “I don’t know. There’s no real evidence yet, but I’ve had a funny feeling about this case for a while now.”
I grinned, mischievously. You’re not admitting to having intuitions, Jim, are you?”
“Don’t be so bloody cheeky!” he said, returning the grin. “There’s something weird about the whole business is all I’m saying. Perhaps it’s because your Connie’s clouding the issue. Look,” he continued, “say she hadn’t had these visions – the recent ones, I mean – what would we have? Rhetorical question,” he added, again before I could say anything. “I’ll tell you what we’d have: a relatively simple case of child abduction, where we’d have to rely on old-fashioned police work to get a result. In other words, it would be a bloody hard slog. Isn’t that what Paul Simmons was saying, basically?”
“Yes,” I said quickly, “but she has had these visions. And we both know they’re not just fantasies – never mind what the super or the doctor might say. So, what is it you’re trying to say, Jim? You’re in danger of losing me.”
He shook his head, slowly and deliberately, as if somehow that might convince me of his argument.
“All I’m trying to say, Ange, is that if we’re not careful we’ll stop being detectives – postpone doing our jobs, if you like – because we’ll be waiting for the next psychic occurrence and hoping that’ll make our jobs easier. In other words, we may come to depend on it. Does that make any sense?”
I nodded. “I see what you mean; but I happen not to agree with you. It seems to me, personally, that there are two interconnected strands to this case: one, we have a paedophile and probable murderer to apprehend; and, two, we have a young teenage girl who’s unwittingly involved and frightened for her safety. What I’m really saying, Jim, is that if we ignore Connie we could well have another victim on our hands.”
“Yeah, okay,” he grunted, conceding the point. “So, what’s your suggestion? You don’t think we should go back and search those woods again, do you? Like we did four years or so ago, hoping we might stumble across the child’s body.”
“No. ‘Course not. I’m saying we should keep a watchful eye on Connie, partly because I’m concerned for her safety, and partly because I’m sure our paedophile is gonna try and contact her eventually. Trust me, the bastard’s going to find her again and that’s our chance to get the fucker!”
“You’re not suggesting round-the-clock surveillance, are you? You know damned well we don’t have the resources for that.”
I leant forward across the table, as if to emphasise my point. “No, Jim, I’m not suggesting that either. What I do think is we should put the staff at Ashworth House in the picture. Put them on notice that this could happen. And perhaps arrange for a direct alarm link to the station here, coupled to regular bypass patrols. Is that too much to ask?” I said pointedly.
“I guess not,” he agreed. “Especially if you’re proved right. That would make us appear unforgivably incompetent.” He nodded again. “Okay, Ange; I’ll leave it to you to organise. Now, how about dinner? You hungry?”
“Oh no you don’t!” I said, grinning. “If we’re going to eat then it has to be at a restaurant, otherwise you’ll want a repeat of the last time, and if I remember rightly we ate nothing that night!”