The Yorkshire Dipper Read online

  I think of her work. “Nothing out of the ordinary. The main thing she was working on was the river deaths. So no.”

  DI Jones writes something in his notebook. “We’ll be speaking to her employers. The Press Association is the main one, isn’t it?”

  “She’s actually freelance, so they’re not her employers. But they’re the people who pay her most for her work.”

  “She was good at her job, wasn’t she?” Chris’s face relaxes into a smile. “I’ve seen her in action a few times since I started this job.”

  “Haven’t we all?” There’s an edge to Will’s voice which I ignore. I have not got the energy to lock horns with him.

  I think of Lauren in action. A formidable sight. And I’m never going to see it again. “I can’t imagine who could have got the better of her. It’s not that long since she went on a self-defence course.”

  “Do you know of anyone she might have spoken to or involved in her plans over the last few days?”

  “She never said anything to me. There’s her best friend Sara though – I think she’s had lunch with her recently. And then there’s her mum. And she went to get her hair done yesterday.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “It’s somewhere on the main street. She’s been going there for years.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard to pin down. Get in touch if you think of anything else that might be relevant.”

  “I just want to get my hands on the bastard who did this to her. We will get him, won’t we?”

  “Of course we will.”

  Throughout the conversation with DI Jones, I realised I have spoken about Lauren as though she is still here. As though I’m going back home to her. Suddenly I gasp as I duck into the back of the police car, it hits me like an iron fist twisting my guts. This is really happening. The woman I love has gone forever.

  “You OK? You’re not going to puke again, are you?” Will looks at me as we make the short journey back home. Home. What is home ever going to be now?

  “I just can’t believe it. None of it seems real. I can’t get that image of her just now, out of my head.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t come in with you. It’s just…” He does actually look genuinely apologetic.

  “It’s fine. Without having seen her there, I would never have accepted she was dead. God, what I’d give to turn the clock back a few hours.” We pass the bridge crossing the river deaths spot. There’s a collection of flowers building for the woman who drowned there last night. I think of the other family going through the same thing we are.

  I wonder if flowers will be laid for Lauren. I’ll have to take some. I need to see where it happened. And what is being done. But that can wait until tomorrow. I want to get back and see Brenda. The only family Lauren had apart from us. Then I must tell Alysha.

  Brenda darts from the lounge as I enter the house. “Tell me it’s not her Mark.” Her face looks raw with crying.

  I see Lauren in her face more now than ever before as I shake my head. “I wish, more than anything, that I could tell you that.” I fall into her arms and cry with her. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice is a squeak in the hallway. Claire comes out of the lounge and puts her arms around both of us.

  “I’ll put the kettle on.” Will strides past us. “Make myself useful.”

  DI Jones and Chris don’t stay long. They have a look around the house then, seemingly satisfied, take Lauren’s laptop with them.

  Saying he has a shift tomorrow and refusing to cancel it, Will returns home. The three of us spend the rest of the day barely able to move. Crying. Speculating. Forcing a sandwich down. Thinking. Crying some more. Necking an occasional brandy. In the end, it’s the brandy that helps me to sleep for a few hours. Brenda resorts to a sleeping tablet.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  I slide my hand across the mattress towards Lauren. We never wear anything in bed, preferring to sleep skin to skin. I always sleep well when she’s beside me. I reach to draw her into my arms, then it hits me like a train.

  She’s dead. I identified her body yesterday. Someone attacked and drowned her. A sob gathers in my throat as I sit up in the darkness, the light from the en-suite partially lighting up the bedroom. The towel she used yesterday is in a heap on the floor and her dressing gown hangs on the back of the door. I look at my watch. 6:07 am. This time yesterday we were curled up together. Tears leak from my eyes and run down the sides of my head. I can’t just lie here. I have never felt pain like it in my life.

  If I could have only known what was going to happen. Was she targeted? Or was it a random attack? I have to know. But first, I need to tell Alysha before she finds out another way. Lauren’s death has been reported in the news, but today they will actually name and show photos of her in an attempt to bring witnesses forward. I think of Alysha, in my brother’s spare room, sleeping in still blissful ignorance. And I’m soon to go around there and ruin her life.

  Eva pulls me in for a hug as soon as I walk in. It’s only 8 o’clock. The sleeping tablet must have completely knocked Brenda out, so I’ve left her sleeping. “I can’t believe it Mark. I just can’t believe it. How are you doing?”

  “It hasn’t sunk in properly yet,” I reply as fresh tears bubble up. “I don’t know if it ever will.”

  “You must be devastated. I’m devastated for you.”

  “Where’s Will?”

  “Where do you think? I did ask him to take the day off.”

  “I guess carrying on as normal is his way of dealing with things.”

  “It doesn’t make it the right way, though.”

  “Alysha doesn’t know anything yet, does she? It’s news she should only hear from me.”

  “I agree. No, she doesn’t know a thing. It was difficult to act normal yesterday after I found out. I barely stopped crying all day and had to tell the girls I was full of cold to explain my red eyes.” Eva relaxes her hold on me. “It’s all starting to come through on the news now, so you do need to tell her.”

  “I’ll go up now. Oh God Eva. What the hell am I going to say? How can I tell her she’s never going to see her mummy again?”

  “Do you want me to come up with you?”

  “Thanks. But no. This should just be me and her.”

  “Just be honest with her Mark. And don’t try to hold it all together. It’s OK to cry in front of her.”

  I stare at Alysha for a few moments, knowing that as soon as I wake her, I’m going to shatter her world as she knows it. She looks peaceful and content with her arms around a borrowed teddy bear. This is a conversation no father and daughter should ever have to have.

  “Alysha, wake up, it’s Daddy.” I sit on the edge of the bed beside her after gently shaking her arm.

  “Huh. Is it school time?”

  “No, not today.”

  She sits up. “But it’s Monday.” She looks around the bedroom. “Why did I sleep here all night?”

  “Alysha.” I take her hands in mine. “I’ve got something really terrible to tell you.”

  She rubs her eyes and looks at me, wide-eyed now.

  “It’s Mummy.” I tighten my grip on her hands.

  “Where is she?”

  I swallow. As soon as the words leave me, there will be no taking them back. “Alysha. Mummy. She’s…” I can’t say it. I just can’t say it.

  “Where is she Daddy?”

  The earnestness in her voice breaks my heart. I’ve just got to say it. “I’m afraid she’s died sweetheart. She’s gone to heaven.”

  She frowns, looking like Lauren. “When is she coming back? Will she pick me up from school?”

  “No Alysha. When people die, they go forever.”

  “How did she get there?”

  “She was very badly hurt yesterday. When she went out on her bike.” I can’t tell her the exact truth. Not yet.

  “I want to go and see her.” Alysha swings her legs out of bed. “Where are my cl
othes? We’ll bring her back.”

  “Come here.” I scoop her onto my knee. “Daddy needs a big cuddle and I’m sure Alysha does too. We’ve got to look after each other.”

  “But I want Mummy to look after me too. When can I talk to her?”

  “I’m not sure she understands,” I say to Eva when I go back downstairs. “She’s getting dressed.”

  “It’s a lot for a five-year-old to take in.” Eva passes me a cup of coffee. “Do you want to leave her with me again today? You’re not going to be able to do much with her, you need to look after yourself.”

  “I know, but it should be me, looking after her.”

  “Mark. I’m her auntie. She’ll be fine with me and Heidi. It’s probably for the best to keep some sense of normality for her. It’s going to be anything but normal at your house.”

  Guilt tugs at my belly, but I know she is right. “Are you sure you’re alright with that?”

  “I’ll let Heidi stay off school too. Try to give them as nice a day as possible. I’ll keep talking to her about Lauren – perhaps I could find a book in the library about losing someone.”

  “I really appreciate this Eva.” Heat prickles at the back of my eyes again as I sink into a chair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  “Just keep breathing and putting one foot in front of the other.”

  “But I don’t want to do that without Lauren. I don’t want to do anything without her.”

  The car is littered with Lauren’s hair grips and crisp packets, and her jacket is still on the back seat where it was thrown. I can almost smell her in here and I can’t cope. I don’t know if I can do this. If it wasn’t for Alysha, I would tie rocks to my feet and jump in that bloody river myself. Be with Lauren. Together forever. Like we were supposed to be.

  As I reverse out of Eva and Will’s drive, the local news comes on the radio.

  The woman whose body was discovered on the Alderway cycle path yesterday has been named as local woman and mother of one, Lauren Holmes. She was thirty-two and worked as a freelance journalist. Miss Holmes is thought to have been cycling along the path when she was grabbed and attacked by someone lying in wait. It is not yet known whether she was targeted or if she was a victim of circumstance.

  Anyone with any information is asked to contact police on 101, quoting reference 1402. We will bring you more as we get it, but women are once again being urged to take extra care until the assailant is found.

  I arrive back home, relieved when I see my sister’s car, glad that she is still here. I couldn’t face an empty house. No way. Before I get out of the car, I pull my phone from the glove box, ignoring Lauren’s notebook, which falls out with it. I’ll look at it later. I can’t bear to see words she has written.

  I’ve got several Facebook notifications.

  Lindy Taylor Mark. I can’t believe it. I want to help you catch whoever did this. Get in touch as soon as you’re up to it.

  Sara Hollins I’ve just heard the news. Please tell me they’ve made a mistake.

  Amanda Johnson Mark, we haven’t met. I’m Lauren’s hairdresser. I only saw her on Saturday. I’m so, so sorry. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.

  I decide to look at the rest of them later. I can’t face them right now. I check the texts from DI Jones and Chris.

  Again – I’m sorry mate. Hope you’re being well looked after. Take as much time off as you need and I’ll be in touch later.

  How are you doing this morning? We’re doing some house to house today. I’ll keep you informed.

  I slip the phone into my pocket. I’m aware that messages and support might be the thing that keeps me going through this. And Alysha. It’s going to be a long, long road.

  “Have you eaten?” Claire’s buttering toast as I walk into the kitchen.

  “I’ll try to get a slice down.” My stomach is churning, but I know I’m going to make myself ill if I don’t look after myself. Plus, I’ve got Alysha to think of. “Is Brenda still about?”

  “She took a taxi home to get some things. I’d have taken her but wanted to be here when you came back.” Claire says. “She won’t be long.”

  “How is she?”

  “The poor love’s barely stopped crying. I heard her up and down, out of bed all night. She said even the sleeping tablet couldn’t knock her out properly. You seem to be holding up OK Mark. I’m proud of you.”

  “Appearances can be deceiving. I’m all over the place inside.”

  “I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay here as long as you want me to.”

  “I appreciate it sis.” Thank God I’ve got Claire. If Will had been my only sibling, I’d be in trouble right now. I don’t often think about him, but my other older brother Dean enters my head. I remember feeling the pain when he was killed. But it was nothing like this.

  “How did Alysha take it? That is where you’ve been?”

  “Yeah. I don’t think she really understands. She seems to think heaven is a party or something. How can a five-year-old understand that she’s never going to see her mother again? Especially when she only saw her yesterday.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Brenda looks dreadful when she returns. As soon as she sees me, tears stream from her eyes. Her road will be as long as mine. In fact, I don’t think either of us could ever reach the end.

  After Brenda has been back for an hour, the house feels like it is shrinking around me. If I don’t get out of here, it’s going to crush me within it. And if I’m honest, I’m struggling to manage Brenda’s grief alongside my own. Claire offers to come with me but I need some space. If I’m on my own, I can be with Lauren. In my head, anyway.

  I decide to retrace the steps that Lauren made yesterday. I tug my bike from the shed and set off in the direction of the cycle path. It’s unthinkable that twenty-four hours ago, she was riding up this same path. We used to enjoy it together in the summer. I always cycled behind so I could look at her bum and made sure to tell her that. She would try to act all indignant, but secretly she liked it. I enjoyed watching her long hair billow out behind her. What I wouldn’t give to be following her now. I really don’t know how I’m going to get through this. She fills my every thought and every fibre of my being.

  I’ve been in the force since my early twenties, but approaching the cordon and seeing the two white tents engulfs me in shock. There’s a forensic expert, laying and lifting markers whilst taking photographs. “Stay where you are,” she orders me as I’m about to duck under the cordon.

  “I’m Sergeant Potts.” I pull my ID from my coat. “I’m the victim’s fiancé.”

  “Then you should know better than anyone that you can’t come in here.” She nods to the police officer who is stood a few yards away, at the other side of the cordon.

  “Did you say you’re her fiancé?” He approaches me. I don’t recognise him.

  “Yes. Mark Potts. Have they got anything yet on the bastard who did this to her?”

  “DI Jones is leading the inquiry. You’ll have to ask him.” He holds his hand out. “PC Ryder. I’m new. Scott. I’m sorry for your loss. It’s bloody awful.”

  His words swim in the air as I look all around where I am stood. This time yesterday she was still alive. If only I hadn’t gone out. I stare at the tent that’s over and around the stream. Where some evil nutcase held her head underwater. She had said recently that drowning must be the worst way to die. She’ll have fought to the end, my Lauren. I know she would have. It would have taken some strength to overpower her.

  “Thanks.”

  I continue on to the press office, wondering if this is where Lauren was heading yesterday. Perhaps she’d found out about the latest river death beforehand – was that why she was going into work?

  It’s the first question I ask Lindy as she ushers me into a side office. I brush off her hug and ignore her tears as we sit facing each other.

  “We were meeting at the river.” She wipes her cheeks wit
h her hand. “You know Lauren. She wanted to cover the story from the sharp edge and get some photos. Her mission had become to prove someone had pushed or chucked those women in.”

  “I can’t even think about the river deaths at the moment. Who has done this to her?” I let a long sigh out as I fight my own tears. This was Lauren’s domain. She was passionate about her job and once told me about the excited buzz of energy she felt all around her when here, in the press office. She had told me loads of times how lucky she felt to be doing the job she loved.

  “When I tell you what I’ve got to tell you,” Lindy says. “You’ll probably agree that Lauren’s death is connected to the river deaths.”

  “Whatever you’re going to say isn’t going to bring her back though, is it?”

  “I’d do anything if I could,” Lindy says softly. “It’s such a waste.”

  “So what is it you wanted to tell me?” I ask.

  “I’ve had a lady called Amanda on the phone this morning. Lauren’s hairdresser. Lauren was there on Saturday.”

  “I know.”

  “There was apparently a man hanging about whilst Lauren and Alysha were there.”

  A cold hand of fear grips my throat. Thoughts whirl. Why hadn’t she said something? Is Alysha in danger too? My fear turns to dread. Between us, we mustn’t let Alysha out of our sight. “What’s the name of the hairdressers?”

  “Tangled, I think. But that’s not all. Lauren told Amanda that there was a man hanging around the bridal shop when she was there last week and again when she was in a café with one of her friends last month. She said that Lauren seemed unnerved by it all when she was there on Saturday. She actually gave Lauren and Alysha a lift back to their car. It was only parked at the end of the street.”