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Hurrying away from the lockers, Jennie reaches the stairs leading down to the basement. The stone steps seem to be in good condition, unlike the rotten banister. As she descends, she feels the temperature drop with every step. The stench of damp gets stronger as she reaches the basement, and the air becomes thicker – chewy even. A sense of dread builds inside her. This basement is the place where she had the best and worst times at school. It’s the place that reminds her most of Hannah.
It can’t be her.
Jennie coughs. Her eyes start to water.
‘Hey.’ DS Zuri Otueome smiles as she hurries over to meet Jennie at the bottom of the stairs. She’s smartly dressed in a grey trouser suit with an orange blouse. Her braided hair is twisted up into a bun, and she’s wearing booties and gloves rather than a full white bodysuit. She looks the epitome of style and efficiency. Zuri gestures through the open doorway to their right. ‘We’re just through here.’
Jennie’s stomach starts to churn. She knows where that doorway leads. ‘What have we got?’
‘Human remains. A full skeleton from what I’ve seen so far, but the doc will be able to tell you more. They were found this morning by the demolition team. They’d started work early, around 6am, to double-check the explosive charges before the detonation planned for 9am. When the charges down here didn’t respond, a couple of the team were sent to investigate. They found part of the basement had flooded, probably due to the heavy rain we had during that thunderstorm early on Sunday morning. Anyway, they got to work pumping out the water, but as they were finishing up, one of the crew noticed the top of a skull protruding from one of the trenches where the charges had been laid. That’s when they called it in.’
Jennie nods, unsure whether she can trust herself to speak. She puts on the protective booties and gloves she always carries with her. Then, hoping her voice will come out sounding normal, she says, ‘Thanks, Zuri. You’d better lead the way.’
Following Zuri, Jennie goes through the open doorway and into the passageway beyond. Rather than taking a left into the basement darkroom that was Jennie’s sanctuary during her time at the school, Zuri leads her further along the corridor. They pass several store cupboards and stop outside the old boiler room at the end of the passageway.
Zuri indicates for Jennie to enter the room first. ‘The remains were found in here.’
Jennie steps inside. The smell of damp and decay is worse, and the floor is squelchy underfoot from the recent flooding. There are several white body-suited CSIs at work.
Forensic pathologist Hassan Ayad, a short, studious-looking man in his forties, is crouched down over a large trench. He looks up as Jennie enters the room. ‘Good morning, DI Whitmore.’
‘Hi, Hassan. What can you tell me?’
‘Well, it’s early days so far, but I’d say we have a female, probably a teen, who’s been down here for a long time. If I was a betting man, which as you know I’m not, I’d put my money on it being more than twenty years, possibly nearer to thirty.’ Straightening up, Hassan steps away from the trench to make room for Jennie. ‘Decomposition is highly advanced. Take a look for yourself.’
Jennie’s heart rate accelerates. Given the likely age at the time they died, and how long Hassan estimates they’ve been buried in the basement, this could be someone a similar age to her, to Hannah. She moves closer to the trench, apprehension growing with every step.
How could it be Hannah? A witness saw her at the train station. The police said she’d run away. She can’t be here. She can’t be dead.
Jennie stops at the edge of the trench.
Nausea rises within her. Her heart slams against her chest.
A skull looks up at her from the trench, but it’s not the chalk-white bone and grimacing teeth that send Jennie reeling. It’s the scraps of red plaid that cling to the skeleton’s ribcage; the rusted but still distinctive Celtic Knot buckle of a belt still fastened around the long-deflated waist; and the heart-shaped gold pendant, its delicate chain snapped in two, that lies half a foot from the remains.
Hannah’s favourite clothes.
The necklace Hannah never took off.
It can’t be Hannah.
But it is.
Chapter 3
Struggling to get her breathing under control before Hassan and Zuri notice she’s in trouble, Jennie forces herself to stay looking down into the trench. She can’t show them the effect these remains are having on her because compared to a lot of the dead bodies she’s seen in her time this is extremely tame. But the other dead bodies she’s seen haven’t been people Jennie knew.
Hassan, never one to like a silence, fills the void. ‘It looks like our victim had been buried and concreted over, but the demolition crew took up that part of the floor to lay the charges last week. When the basement flooded, some of the earth surrounding her remains got washed away, revealing her.’
Jennie takes another deep breath. Doesn’t respond.
Hannah never left. She’s been here all this time.
‘I had an initial conversation with the head of the demolition team,’ says Zuri. ‘He said there were old pipes in this section of the floor and they pulled some out when they were preparing the ground for the charges.’
Jennie frowns. ‘They buried her under the pipes?’
‘It looks that way. We also found a purple rucksack partially obscuring the body,’ Hassan adds. ‘The contents, mainly clothes as far as we could tell, looked rather worse for wear as you’d expect, but the bag itself was remarkably well preserved. Forensics will work whatever magic they can.’
