Frozen Grave (Willis/Carter #3)(84)

Andrew the accountant was out walking his two miniature poodles Pompom and Lulu. He called to them to be quiet as they stopped on the path ahead of him and yapped excitedly. He reached them and looked upwards. Hanging above his head a woman was impaled on the metal cage used to collect falling stones. Her twisted body was bathed in frost. She was frozen solid. Her eyes were shining as they reflected the rising sun. Her blood was a dark stain on the white cliff face where it had run out.

It was 7 a.m. Willis hadn’t slept more than a few hours when she switched off her alarm clock before it rang. The business of finding her father had turned out to be relatively easy once she had his name and photo. But once she started it was hard to stop looking for things written about him. Eddie Francis hadn’t been able to make it as a sprinter, in the end. But he’d coached many good ones over the years and was still involved with the Jamaican athletics team. He’d never married but he had two sons. Willis wondered why her mother had never bothered to find him before. She hadn’t needed him before now, Willis supposed. Or maybe she had contacted him but not got the response she wanted. Willis needed to talk to Dr Reese again. Bella’s normal accommodation was a twelve-patient ward for people with personality disorders who were deemed to be both a risk to themselves and the public, but a ward was a collection of rooms. Bella was diagnosed as having paranoid schizophrenia. The hospital allowed her mother Internet access, along with a swimming pool, her own TV and a garden to tend. But it was still a maximum-security hospital and every movement she made was meant to be on camera or watched over – maybe they had decided it wasn’t going to help her to contact Eddie Francis.

Willis printed off a couple of clear photos she had of Eddie and then she took one downstairs when she heard Tina getting up for work. They met in the kitchen.

‘What do you think, Teen? He’s an athletics coach.’

Tina took the photo from Willis and gave it straight back.

‘He’s all right but he’s a bit old for you.’

‘No, I don’t mean as a potential boyfriend. I mean as a dad.’

Tina stopped buttering her toast and looked wide-eyed at Willis.

‘Excuse me?’

‘This is him. Or he could be. We don’t really have any proof except what my mother said and she’s—’

‘STOP . . . stop right there. Let me see this photo again.’ She took it from Willis and looked at it closely.

‘OMG. Yes . . . for feck’s sake – he’s not going to be able to deny it. Look at you both – two peas in a pod!’

‘Well, it’s early days yet, Teen. I mean, we only have my mum’s word and that’s not worth a lot.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. Christ, Eb . . . is this where I think it is? Is this in Jamaica?’ she said, scanning the background to the photo. Willis nodded. ‘Book us flights. We are going out there to confront him. I mean, who wouldn’t want a dad in Jamaica?’

‘No confrontation . . .’ Willis smiled as she shook her head. Tina’s enthusiasm was infectious. ‘We don’t want to scare him off.’

‘What’s to scare? Who wouldn’t be proud of a daughter like you? Look at all you’ve achieved. Look at who you are.’

‘Thanks, Teen.’

‘I mean it.’ Tina picked up her toast and munched double-speed. ‘Eb – you know what this means?’ Willis shook her head – hardly daring to ask. ‘We have holiday opportunities off the scale.’

Willis got a call from Scott Tucker as she was getting off the bus at Archway.

‘Just thought I’d catch up.’

‘What did you think of Megan Penarth?’ she asked.

‘Interesting woman – lives on Dartmoor in a barn conversion. She seemed to be quite sorted. She doesn’t seem to be finished with JJ Ellerman yet – seems to me like she was planning to have her say before walking away.’

‘Did she give him any money?’

‘She says not. How are you getting on with the other women on the list?’

‘I’m just about to attend a meeting now. I’ll send you a report when we’re done. After that, we’re planning to head to Brighton to talk to Lisa Tompkins, the gym manager.’

‘A phone call will do. I mean, I know you’re busy. We could Skype again and you can let me know later.’

‘Yeah. Okay, thanks a lot for the call. I’ll keep you informed. Actually, you should come and meet us when we go to Brighton. I’ll text you when we’re leaving. How long will it take you?’

‘Four hours. I’d better start now. When are you going?’

‘After this meeting – in a couple of hours.’

‘Okay – see you there.’

‘Can you spare the time?’

‘Absolutely.’

Willis ended the call and went straight to Robbo’s office, ready for the meeting. Carter was already there.

‘What did we find out about the women’s history, Pam?’ Willis asked as she hung her coat on the hook.

‘Paula Seymour has a conviction for . . .’ Pam opened and read the file on her desk. ‘Shoplifting and assault. The first offence came after several warnings. Seems she was known to the police as a teenager. The assault charge was when she was nineteen – she glassed another woman in a club. She’s not had anything since.’