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‘It’s okay,’ says Jennie, relieved the deflection worked. ‘So, like I said, I wasn’t really fully aware of the original case, but I did go to the school. I know the layout, how the academy operated back then, and I have an awareness of the people who worked there. All that will be an asset to this investigation.’
‘Perhaps.’ The DCI still looks unsure. ‘But if the media get even the slightest whiff that you knew the victim they’ll be crying foul. I think it’s safer if I shift the case over to a different team.’
‘Which team?’ Jennie asks, stalling for time as she tries to think of a way to ensure she keeps the case.
Campbell stares at her. Frowns. ‘I haven’t—’
‘Because you’re not exactly spoilt for choice, are you?’ she continues, suppressing her fear and irritation in an attempt to keep her voice measured and professional. ‘If you give it to Strickland’s team you’re going to have the same issue. He might not have been in the same year, but he and at least half of his lot went to the academy at that time. Plus if the media catch wind of them getting another high-profile case so soon after screwing up the abduction response that’s hardly going to end well, is it?’
Campbell grimaces. Strickland’s mishandling of the attempted abduction of two thirteen-year-olds walking home from netball practice had been front-page news in the local papers. The detective’s delayed response had left the men free to make a second abduction attempt with another teen less than an hour later, the girl saved by two passing dog walkers who gave multiple interviews criticising the force, provoking outrage in the town.
‘On the other hand, if you give it to Pearson and her team, you’ll be giving what’s likely to become a high public interest case to the most inexperienced DI. I mean, she was just newly promoted last month and has never led a murder investigation. Plus she’s up to her eyes in those aggravated burglary cases at the moment, and you’ve already got the local MP and that White Cross Gazette journalist kicking off over the delays in arresting those responsible.’
The DCI looks through the glass wall into the open-plan area as if searching for another option from the staff working at the desks.
He has to realise I’m right.
‘I’m the right person to lead this investigation, sir, you know that. My team has the experience and the capacity to do a good job and I’ve got inside knowledge about the old school site that will really help us. You said it yourself that we need to clear this case quickly, and I’m your best bet for getting that done. This might be a cold case, but it’ll be important to the community, to the family, and to people who knew the victim. And as a member of this community, it’s important to me.’
Campbell runs his hand across his beard. ‘And you really don’t think that being at school with the victim will cloud your judgement?’
Hannah disappearing clouded every aspect of my life. I need to atone for believing she’d left me behind on purpose. I need to get past the guilt about all the things I’ve thought about her for so many years, the anger, the grief and the hatred at her betrayal.
Jennie takes a breath. The DCI is coming round to her way of thinking. He’s nearly there. She just needs to push him across the line. She shakes her head. ‘It won’t. Like I said, I hardly knew her, but it sickens me that a child was killed and left buried under the school for thirty years. Her family deserve the truth. This community needs the truth.’ Jennie’s voice is strong, impassioned, determined. ‘I will find it for them. Let me take the case.’
Jennie can see in Campbell’s expression that he’s relenting. This case is hers. She just hopes neither of them will come to regret his decision.
Chapter 5
‘It’s Satvinder Neale from Forensics. I’ve got an ID on your White Cross Academy victim.’
Jennie stops walking. Grips the phone tighter, her heart rate accelerating. ‘Okay.’
‘The remains exhumed from the school this morning are a match for the dental records of Miss Hannah Jennings. She’d had a filling on the seventeenth of May 1994 and the dentist took X-rays before the procedure. Those X-rays show no changes in her teeth occurred between the time of the filling and the time when she died.’
Satvinder reels off Hannah’s date of birth and the address she had registered with the dentist, but Jennie knows those details by heart. Instead, she thinks about all the sightings of Hannah posted on the Class of ’94 Facebook group over the years, people claiming to have seen Hannah chilling out in the Wood at Glastonbury, dancing wildly at an Adam Lambert gig at G-A-Y, or hiking with the most enormous rucksack at Grasmere in the Lake District. Every time Jennie had seen a post reporting a sighting of Hannah, hope had flared that one day, maybe, she’d get to see her friend again. Now she knows for certain that will never happen.
Jennie thanks Satvinder for the information and ends the call. She takes a breath, steadying herself, then hurries to the incident room. There’s no time to waste.
‘So we’ve got a confirmed ID,’ Jennie tells the gathered team. ‘Our victim is Hannah Jennings, an eighteen-year-old pupil at White Cross Academy who was reported missing on Friday the tenth of June 1994.’
All eyes are on her. Squeezing her hands into fists to stop her hands from shaking, Jennie looks around the narrow room.
DS Zuri Otueome is sitting at the front, making notes on her scratchpad. In contrast, DS Martin Wright has removed his Ted Baker suit jacket and is lounging back in his chair looking relaxed. Behind the sergeants, DC Naomi Bradfield and DC Steve Williams look focused and attentive, even though, as is the norm these days, poor Steve has dark circles under his eyes and the look of a man who hasn’t truly slept in months.
‘Naomi, can you hold the pen on this one?’ asks Jennie. Petite, with a mass of hard-to-tame black ringlets, fifty-something Naomi is the epitome of a reliable pair of hands. A career DC, she’s diligent and thorough, and someone who Jennie has come to rely on a great deal.
‘Sure,’ says Naomi, getting to her feet and moving across to the huge whiteboard that covers the length of the end wall.
‘Thanks.’ Jennie takes a seat at the front. She doesn’t trust her voice not to crack when talking through the details of this morning’s discovery, so she looks at Zuri. ‘Do you want to take us through what happened at the school?’
‘No problem,’ says Zuri, opening her notebook. ‘We received a call from the construction manager at 6.43am. His workers discovered human remains during their final preparations for the planned detonation to demolish the school building. Initial pathologist observations are that the body had been in the ground for between twenty and thirty years, and the cause of death was likely to have been strangulation. Given she was also buried beneath the pipe work, foul play is strongly suggested.’
‘No shit,’ says DS Martin Wright dismissively, without making eye contact with Zuri.
‘The post-mortem is scheduled for tomorrow,’ continues Zuri, ignoring Martin’s tone.
‘How come the remains weren’t visible before now?’ asks Martin, looking at Jennie rather than Zuri.
