Before It's Too Late Page 2

  Chapter Four

  I woke to silence. A thick, suffocating silence.

  Pain. My shoulders, my back, my legs. I was on my side, curled into a foetal shape. I shifted position and flinched. Every limb smarted. I flicked my eyes open and instantly jammed them shut as a shard of light spiked my pupils. Where was I? In hospital?

  No. The floor was hard and rough like sandpaper. There were no covers. I rubbed my forehead and shaded my eyes as I opened them again, gingerly this time. Darkness. A cavern of darkness all around, splintered by the small slice of light from above. I sniffed. A mixture of earthy and sweet, like the trees back home after a rainstorm.

  Pain rippled through every tendon as I uncurled my crumpled body. The ground scratched at me. It wasn’t soft like mud. More like concrete.

  As I sat up, an involuntary shiver made me tremble. Suddenly the dampness penetrated my bones and I felt cold. Excruciatingly cold.

  I blinked several times, gradually growing accustomed to the sliver of light from above and scanned the area. An almost perfect square box about four metres across. A couple of faded crisp packets mingled with a pile of crusted leaves in the far corner. The walls were hard and rough. A covered metal grill blocked the only opening above me. But no window.

  A mixture of fear and nausea swamped me.

  I tugged at my jacket, drew my legs into my chest. Grazed knees peered back at me through the broken threads of material. I reached out, touched one of them and reeled as a bit of skin came off in my hand.

  How did I get here? I blinked, tried to recall. A gentle rocking. The hum of a moving vehicle. Limbs paralysed. I wiggled my fingers and toes. The relief at movement was tempered by the reality of my surroundings. My hands and legs weren’t bound together, I was free to move around, but only within the confines of this dark pit.

  The pain in my head soared. I raised a hand to it and felt my hair, clogged and matted. When I tried to free the congealed strands, I released the unmistakable odour of vomit.

  A wave of fatigue reached up and pulled me back down until I lost all sense of recognition and surrendered to the darkness once again.

  Chapter Five

  “Over three hundred of the students at Stratford College are international. Their parents pay for them to come over here to gain a British education in a sheltered environment.”

  Jackman stared at Andrew Keane. The green shirt he wore stretched across his paunch and clashed with a lilac woven tie. He always managed to look like he got dressed in the dark, but the chorus of jokes from his colleagues and peers didn’t bother him one bit. Nothing ever seemed to bother Keane.

  “So, we are looking at a reassurance exercise,” Janus said. The three of them were seated around an oval table in one of Rother Street station’s meeting rooms. The morning sun bounced off the laminated table. A lone filing cabinet stood in the corner, a tower of buff files balanced precariously on top.

  “Looks like it,” Keane continued. “The college principal came in early this morning. His phone is already ringing off the hook from local journos. He’s panicking about parents pulling their kids out because they don’t feel safe.”

  “Hence the chief constable’s interest,” Janus said. “Apparently he had the Stratford Mail call him on his personal line first thing this morning. God knows how they got that number.” She snorted. “Passed it through to me of course.”

  Jackman rubbed his forehead. “How did the press get hold of the story?”

  Keane shrugged a single shoulder. “Most likely someone from the college shared it on social media. Probably one of the students. As soon as they caught a whiff of the police, they saw a chance for some exposure. It seems everyone’s after celebrity status these days. I’m amazed somebody hasn’t filmed her room on their mobile.”

  “Don’t speak too quickly,” Janus said. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and turned to Jackman. “Make sure uniform’s got it locked and contained, will you?”

  “Sure.” The room hushed as Jackman inhaled loudly. “We should probably keep it low key,” he said, speaking through his exhalation. “Issue a statement to the press to show that we’re taking it seriously. There are bound to be comparisons made with the Readman case, particularly as she was missing for several days before her body was discovered. We’ll need to refute any links at this stage, try to get them and the public to focus on sightings of Min Li, to track down her last movements.” He stared into space as he spoke. “Limit the presence at the college. It’s early days – we need to find out what we’re dealing with first.”

  Janus nodded. “I agree. The last thing we want is international journos on our doorstep. Plain clothes officers only at the college. That’ll be more discreet, less alarming.”

  The sound of a knock drew their attention towards the entrance. The door opened and DC Kathryn Russell’s heart-shaped face appeared. Russell shot a quick smile at Jackman and addressed the Super, “Phone call for you, ma’am.”

  Janus rose. “Update Judy Pearson in the press office, will you? Get her to draft a statement and tell them we’re taking no more than three or four questions. Keep it tight. We don’t want any room for speculation.” She checked her watch, “See you back here at 11.30.”

  Jackman nodded and watched as she raced out into the corridor, her heels clicking on the linoleum flooring with every step.

  He turned to Keane. “Right, I think we need to get the boyfriend back in for a formal statement.”

  “He’s downstairs. I’m just about to interview him.”

  Jackman stared at the dark pools that encircled Keane’s eyes. “How long have you been on duty?”

  Keane glanced up at the clock. “Fourteen hours, give or take.”

  Jackman raised his brows.

  “One last job,” Keane said and winked. “Can’t deny me this one.”

  “Okay. I’ll come with you. As soon as you’re done, you go home.”

  They gathered their notes and moved out to the corridor. Just as they were about to turn the corner, Jackman heard a familiar voice behind him, “Morning, sir. You’re looking dashing as ever!”

  Jackman turned and smiled at the tall, well-built figure that approached. Most women gave Jackman an uncomfortable wide berth when it came to personal compliments, but DS Annie Davies had always been different which was probably why he liked her so much. Her broad Geordie accent spoke the words with amusing honesty.

  He turned to Keane. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  As Keane nodded, tipped his head at Davies and continued down the corridor, Jackman faced Davies. His eyes caught a white stain on her lapel. “Thank you, Annie. I’ve missed you too.”

  She followed his eyes, licked her thumb and gave the mark a rub. “Damn!”

  Jackman smiled. “First day back?”

  She looked up at him, raised her eyes to the ceiling, although her face shone like a child’s at Christmas. “Yup! And straight into an incident room.”

  Jackman grinned affectionately. Annie and her husband, John, had been the typical childless police couple – indulging in their sports and holidays until she found herself pushing forty and pregnant last year. He suspected their lives had changed more than she’d care to imagine this past twelve months. “I could use your help. How’s the little one?”

  She squeezed out a smile. “Noisy, but cute. What about you? How’s Celia?”

  “Great. Don’t see much of her these days. She’s away at Southampton Uni.”

  “She managed to get on the course for marine biology.” Annie nodded approvingly. “Clever girl.”

  Jackman suddenly remembered the card in his pocket. He slipped his hand in and ran his finger along the unopened edge. “She’s coming up later in the week, actually.”

  “Good to hear.”

  A crash in the distance caught their attention. “Oh, Christ!” Annie rolled her eyes. “Nothing like a bunch of detectives to rearrange furniture.”

  Jackman gave a short laugh. “Thanks for g
etting everything set up.” He reached out and tapped her shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

  Chapter Six

  Jackman scratched his temple and stared into the brown eyes of Min Li’s boyfriend. “Let’s take this from the top, shall we?”

  He’d spent the last twenty minutes sat quietly as Keane questioned Tom on Min’s disappearance, although the interview was proving fruitless. Tom had been with friends all yesterday evening and maintained he had no idea where Min would go. It seemed she rarely ventured anywhere but the college.

  Jackman leant forward and waited until Tom met his gaze. “Why don’t you tell me about Min?”

  Tom dug his fingers into his hair in a comb-like motion. “What do you want to know?”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “She started at the college in September. Came over to do the access course.”

  “What does she study?” Jackman already knew the answer. But Tom’s uncomfortable body language, the way he repeatedly touched his hair, scratched the back of his neck, fidgeted in his chair, fascinated him.

  “She’s doing a foundation course in business, hoping to go on to study at a British university.”

  “When did you meet?”

  “During Freshers’ week, around the campus. She’s very easy to get to know.”

  “In what way?”

  Tom narrowed his eyes. “She’s different to the other Chinese students. Most of them stick together, form their own little clan and rarely mix with the rest of the college. Min loves England: the music, the culture, the clothes, even some of the food. She often says she’s not looking forward to going back home.”

  “Why?”

  “China’s not without restrictions. Her parents sent her over here to get a better grounding in business, a solid education. But she wants to stay when she finishes her access course. Maybe even qualify to be an accountant and get residency.”

  Jackman leant back in his chair, “Doesn’t she miss her family?”

  “I guess so. She talks about her mother. I think they’re quite close. She calls her a lot. Her father has a factory that manufactures tooling.”

  “Can you tell me anything about her father’s business?”

  Tom bit his lip and shifted in his chair. “Not really.”

  “Anything you can tell us might lead us closer to finding Min.”

  Tom hesitated and then leant forward. “He started off working for one of the big foreign companies in the nineties and now makes his own range of tools and exports it to the West. But she says the Chinese are very suspicious people. They don’t trust the authorities. The government don’t actively encourage free enterprise, instead they turn a blind eye to people like him because their business operations boost the economy. But she said his position is always precarious. It seems it’s all about who you know, whose palm you grease.” Tom sighed. “She also said that accountants are low paid in China. Over here she can earn a reasonable living, have more security, maybe even bring her parents over eventually.”

  For a moment neither of them spoke. The faint whir of the light bulb in the ceiling filled the room. Jackman surveyed Tom. Earlier he’d watched him struggle to fold his gangly frame into the chair. The photo Jackman had been shown of Min indicated a petite young woman. The contrast between Min’s shape and Tom’s might have seemed comical in other circumstances.

  Jackman rolled his shoulders. “I understand you had an argument with Min before she went missing. What was it about?”

  Tom was quiet for the shortest of seconds. He cleared his throat. “Her parents. They are coming over in June when we break up. I wanted to meet them, but she doesn’t want to introduce me.” Tom grimaced. “I guess I was being a bit unreasonable. She’s an only child and her parents have high expectations for her career.” He cut off awkwardly.

  “And those expectations don’t include a boyfriend?”

  Tom shook his head. “She’s worried that if they find out she’s seeing someone they’ll take her back home. Put an end to her studies, her life in England.”

  “How did you leave it?”

  “She got angry, dug her heels in. I’d been drinking. Not too much, but enough to engage mouth before head. I told her if she couldn’t be bothered to tell her parents, even to introduce me as a friend, then it was over.”

  “Was she upset?”

  “A bit. More angry. She got up, screamed something at me in Chinese and stormed out. Actually, it was kind of embarrassing. The whole pub turned to look at me.”

  “And you let her go? A young woman? To walk through the streets of Stratford on her own?”

  Tom peered up beneath hooded eyes. “It was my birthday. I thought she was testing me. That she’d gone outside to cool down, to see if I went after her. I really thought she’d come back after a few minutes.”

  “And she didn’t?”

  Tom’s face folded. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “No.”

  “Is there anywhere she might have gone? To calm down, maybe?”

  “The other officer asked me that. We’ve called everyone.”

  “How much had she drunk?”

  He shrugged. “She doesn’t drink much. She certainly wasn’t drunk if that’s what you’re implying.”

  Jackman narrowed his eyes. “Okay. What about money?”

  “She has an account. Her parents give her an allowance, but it’s not huge.”

  “Is there anyone she might have upset recently?”

  “No.” He sat up in his chair. “She’s just a sweet girl. A little strong-headed, but nice. She’s popular at the college.”

  Jackman stood. “I’ll need names of all her associates both inside and outside the college, all her close friends, and everybody that was at your party last night. DC Keane will take a note of them.” He moved towards the door. Just as his fingers touched the handle he turned back, “Tom, as far as we are aware, you are the last person who saw Min last night. Please think very carefully about her recent behaviour and her actions at the pub. If anything comes to mind, however insignificant it might appear, I urge you to give me a call.” He crossed back towards him, dug his hand in his pocket and produced a business card.

  “What do you mean?” Tom asked.

  “Anything. Perhaps someone she has spoken to recently, an odd phone call, a strange place she has visited, an unusual email or text message, something out of the ordinary. I need to know everything.”

  Jackman rubbed his fingers down the shadow of stubble forming at the side of his chin as he wound up his briefing. “Let’s think this one through,” he said. While he’d been busy interviewing the boyfriend and meeting the press, Davies had made a reasonable attempt at turning the only empty office in the building into a makeshift incident room complete with a pin board containing a map of the locality, a white board for briefing and priorities, emergency designated phone lines installed and a team of detectives, albeit crammed into the tight space.

  He glanced across at the map of Stratford centre on the board beside him. Coloured pegs marked the location of the college and the Old Thatch Tavern. Red marker indicated Min Li’s movements up to where she was last seen. Next to the map was a photo of Min herself, a headshot taken off Tom’s phone. She had quite obviously posed for the photo, tilting her head and looking directly into the lens, and it gave the impression that she was now staring back at Jackman. Her mouth was slightly parted to reveal crystal white teeth. She had a clear complexion, long dark hair. But what really struck Jackman were the eyes. An unusual hazel.

  “The cameras track her as she turns the corner of Rother Street, then nothing. We know she was dressed in a long skirt and heels. She couldn’t have walked far.” Jackman rubbed his chin. “We’ve appealed for witnesses. If she’s staying with anyone close by, then surely they would have come forward by now?”

  “Unless she’s hiding away from someone or something?” Davies’ voice shot up from the side of the room.

  “I think we n
eed more from the parents,” he said. “Uniform spoke to them briefly, but… ” His eyes scanned the room until they found DC Russell perched on the corner of a desk. Her red hair was pulled back tight from her face and wound into a bun at the back of her head. “Kathryn, I want you to be a point of contact for Mr and Mrs Li. Update them on where we are with the investigation, try to establish a relationship and keep the lines of communication open. Does Min have a secret email address, another phone, a confidante? I believe the father speaks reasonable English, not sure about the mother. Get an interpreter on board if you need one.”

  Russell looked up from her notes and nodded as Jackman paused, “Get onto the Chinese consulate as well. See what you can find out about their family background. The officer who spoke to them earlier said they have no other family or close friends in this country, but we’ll need to get that verified. Find out as much as you can about her father’s business interests. Is there anything unusual there? We can’t rule out the possibility of kidnap, although there’s been no ransom call yet.”

  Silence echoed around the room as Jackman continued, “According to her boyfriend she is a popular girl, grade A student. No reason for anyone to hold a grudge against her. We haven’t located a body. Is that because we haven’t found her yet or because she is still alive somewhere?”

  “I spoke to the college nurse this morning,” Davies piped up from her makeshift seat on the edge of a desk, which was bowing slightly. “No record of mental health issues, not being treated for depression.”