Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Jennie flinches as a fox scurries across the lane ahead of her. She feels hyper-alert cycling home tonight, the close call with the car a few nights ago still vivid in her memory. At least it’s not raining, although the heavy cloud has hidden the moon, making her route seem darker than usual. Her mind wanders back to the vigil at the park and the argument she witnessed between Rob Marwood and Simon Ackhurst. Rob has only been back in town a day, and she didn’t have the impression he sees Simon very often. She wonders what they were arguing about. Whatever it was, there was a real heat between them.

As she cycles along the main road, her phone rings in her jacket pocket, making her jump. She lets it ring out, then flinches again a few moments later as it beeps and vibrates telling her a text has arrived. Whoever it is seems very keen to get hold of her.

Concerned that it might be one of her team, Jennie pulls into the side of the road and steps up onto the kerb. She pulls out her phone and reads the notifications on the screen.

1 missed call. 1 text message: Jennie, it’s Rob, I got your number from Lottie. We need to talk. Meet me at our old party spot up on White Cross.

As she’s reading the message another one pops onto the screen, also from Rob’s number: Jennie, come quickly. Please.

She frowns. Today was the first time she’s seen Rob in years, and there’s no reason for him to want to speak to her other than if it’s about Hannah. She was sure Rob was hiding something in his interview, and Zuri intuited the same. At the vigil he was clearly agitated.

Pulling a U-turn across the road, Jennie pedals quickly back along Main Street towards the school and the white cross on the hillside beyond.

It takes almost ten minutes to reach the bottom of the path that leads up through the woods to the chalk landmark. Chaining her bike to the kissing gate, she closes the bike lock and hurries through the gate and up the narrow trail. It’s dark under the trees, really dark. She pulls her phone from her pocket and switches on the torch app, quickening her steps.

There’s a rustle from the undergrowth to her left and Jennie’s breath catches in her throat. Overhead the leaves rustle in the breeze. In the distance she hears the call of an owl. Suddenly she feels very isolated, vulnerable.

Jennie looks at her phone. There are no new messages from Rob.

Could Rob have been the person lurking in her front garden last night, watching her from the shadows? She remembers him as a fun-seeking wild teenager, but the man she met today was completely different; far more guarded and clearly stressed at being under investigation over a claim of death by malpractice. It’s been thirty years since she really knew Rob Marwood. People can change a lot in that time.

She keeps walking, her fear escalating minute by minute. She’s alone in the darkness. No one knows she’s come here and there’s no one waiting for her at home.

Is coming here a stupid mistake?

Rob admitted to meeting Hannah after hours in the school, just the two of them. He said they only did heroin the one time, but what if he was lying? Could there have been another bad trip or overdose? Was Rob the one who killed and buried Hannah? Did he realise in the interview that Jennie was suspicious of him? What would he do if he had?

Am I walking into a trap?

The breeze whistles through the trees. The branches creak as they sway in the wind, heightening her anxiety. Jennie presses on, half expecting Rob to jump out at her at any moment.

She’s close to the top of the hill now, maybe just a hundred metres from the summit. It’s too late to turn back. The creaking is getting louder, more rhythmic.

The path opens up into the clearing where she took the photographs of Hannah all those years ago. A rabbit sprints across the path in front of her, illuminated by the beam of her phone’s torch, and Jennie’s stomach flips, then she laughs at the ridiculousness of being afraid of a bunny.

You’re fine.

Then there’s another creak. Louder this time, and directly in front of her. Using the torch, Jennie scans the path up ahead. Her breath catches in her throat. She stops, unable to comprehend what she’s seeing as she raises the beam of light from the ground ahead and unsteadily upward.

An old crate, fallen onto its side.

Brown brogues.

Orange and blue socks.

Pin-striped Paul Smith trousers.

Rob?

Jennie rushes forward. She grabs Rob’s legs, trying to take his weight, to put slack in the rope that’s around his neck, but she can’t. He’s too heavy and she stumbles, losing her grip. Desperate, she climbs the tree. It’s a big gnarly oak, the trunk twisted and ancient. She scrambles up and along the branch to the rope.

Her heart is pounding in her chest. Her fingers scrabble at the rope, trying to undo the knot, but it’s stuck firm. She puts her phone on the branch and yanks at the rope. The branch creaks. The rope slowly rotates, the torchlight illuminating Rob’s face.

Oh God.

Jennie tugs at the knot, desperate to release him. Her actions become more frantic. She accidentally catches the end of the phone with her hand, and it falls from the branch to the ground with a soft thud. There’s no light on the rope now. It’s impossible to see what she’s doing but she can’t give up. She can’t. She can’t.

Jennie keeps wrestling with the rope. Battling to release the tension.

‘Come on, come on,’ she says, yanking at the end of the rope. Tears of frustration prick her eyes. Then, finally she feels the knot loosen. The rope slips through.

The release is sudden. The drop brutal.

Leaping down from the tree, Jennie hurries to Rob’s prone form. Gripping his shoulder, she turns him over then gropes about in the dirt to find her phone before shining its torch beam on his face.

Eyes open. Mouth wide. Blue-tinged lips. Rob Marwood looks dead.

Jennie checks for a pulse and uses her other hand to dial 999. There’s only one bar of signal, but thankfully, the call connects. She puts the phone on speaker and blows two breaths into Rob’s mouth. She can’t find a pulse. Is she too late? She can’t be. She has to know what he wanted to tell her.

Questions swirl in her mind. Did he try to take his own life? Did someone follow him into the woods and attempt to kill him? If he was going to take his life, why did he want to meet her so urgently?

‘What is your emergency?’ the call handler’s voice sounds distant and tinny on the other end of the line.

‘This is Detective Inspector Jennie Whitmore,’ she says, starting chest compressions. ‘I need an ambulance sent to the clearing on the main path at the top of White Cross Hill, use my position to co-ordinate. There’s been an incident. The man has no pulse. I’ve started CPR.’

‘Are you in danger?’ asks the call handler.

‘No, I …’ That’s when Jennie sees the note, still gripped in Rob’s right hand. She angles the torchlight closer, peering forward to read what it says.

For a moment it feels as if everything stops.

It’s hard to find peace when you’ve got blood on your hands. I’m sorry .