Cold as Ice

Chapter 12

Pam was just leaving. She’d already stayed beyond ten and Robbo thanked her. Pam and Robbo had worked together for many years in his former life as a detective and although both had long marriages at home, Pam was Robbo’s ‘work wife’. They had worked together in the Major Incident Room, manning the telephones, and feeding all incoming information into HOLMES.

Robbo was agoraphobic. He had battled against it all his adult life. Sometimes he had to face his demons like in the court room. Then he’d learnt the technique of finding security within a comfort zone he concocted for himself. When Robbo retrained and moved to a new office he’d had to spend time adjusting. Moving the desks around and reshuffling the cabinets to make it seem familiar, he had finally settled on an arrangement where he was slightly backed into the corner of the room, with white boards behind him. From there he could see the corridor and he felt cocooned and not trapped. He didn’t like germs. He liked things to be in order and precise. He liked to see the same people every day but only ever liked a few people in the office at one time. The door to his office was always open and he knew where the exits were in case of panic attacks.

Many times he thought the daily struggle was too hard but he also knew that he loved his job and would battle against anything to do it well. He also knew that if he didn’t fight it he would lose the battle.

‘Night, Pam. See you tomorrow.’

‘Are you going to get some sleep?’ she asked. He nodded vigorously. She gave Carter a look that said ‘That’s what he always says’.

Carter winked at her. ‘We’ll take care of him. See you tomorrow.’

‘Night, Pam,’ Ebony called out as she was coming down the corridor to Robbo’s office.

‘Doctor Harding’s sent over some results on the flaps of skin taken from Emily Styles’ back.’ She read out the results to Robbo and Carter. ‘They contained splinters of wood – it’s a soft wood, possibly pine.’ Robbo rocked in his chair as he listened. ‘Doctor Harding says that the skin had closed over the splinters – that would indicate she was lying on something wooden, rubbing against its surface.’ Ebony finished reading and looked at Carter. ‘A pine box – like a coffin.’

‘Not like a coffin,’ corrected Carter. ‘It was one.’

‘And she was there for some time – must have been to allow the skin to grow over,’ said Robbo.

‘Three months would do it.’ Carter pulled his chair closer to the desk and typed a search onto the PC.

‘Jesus, you can’t keep someone in a box for three months,’ said Robbo.

‘Gets her out to abuse her. Puts her back in,’ said Carter as he typed on the keyboard and scrolled down to read the information on the screen.

‘Just adding this to what we know about Hawk,’ he said. ‘All the men on file for false imprisonment in a box of some kind are serving life several times over. All of them killed. Two out of the three demanded ransoms. One of the victims got away when she fooled her captor into thinking she was emotionally involved with him. He thought it was the start of a beautiful relationship and let her go. Most of the time the victim was threatened with death if she tried to leave the box, thought it was wired to explode if she moved, that kind of thing. The men who kept their victims like this were undoubtedly some of our worst, most sadistic killers.’

‘Now there’s a new kid on the block,’ said Robbo.

‘Could Hawk have modelled himself on one of these men?’ asked Ebony.

‘It’s always possible,’ said Robbo. ‘We’ll look into it.’

‘But he’s not asking for a ransom so it’s all about the killing and the torture.’ Carter was absorbed with reading the profiles of the murderers on his screen.

‘And he’s bringing his own style to it. He is making sure his MO is unique: the make-up and the jewellery,’ Ebony picked up the antique ring from Robbo’s desk and held it in the palm of her hand. ‘The Styles were adamant they’d never seen it before when we showed them a photo.’

‘It hasn’t been reported stolen or lost,’ Robbo said, looking at the screen in front of him.

‘Did he give it to her and does that mean it holds a special significance to him? Or the symbolism?’ asked Carter.

‘It’s really pretty.’ Ebony held the ring up to the light. ‘Is it an antique engagement ring or maybe an eternity ring?’

Robbo tapped on his keyboard and brought up photos of similar ones on his PC. He turned the screen round to show them. ‘One central diamond surrounded by small clusters in the shape of a flower – engagement. Eternity rings all tend to be a band with stones set inside, like a fancy wedding band.’

Ebony swung it in the air by the chain as she looked at it. ‘The two rings don’t go together. The other ring could be out of a cracker, it’s the kind young girls wear – like you get free in teenagers’ comics. I think it was pink in the beginning but the metallic finish has washed off.’

‘If we know it wasn’t Emily’s then did Hawk put the two together and put it on her? Did Hawk want it to be found on her?’ Ebony felt the weight of the chain in her hands.

Robbo took a sip of coffee. He was nodding without realizing as he rocked in his chair; and it creaked beneath his bulk. ‘Yes. Definitely. He knew it would be lost in the canal if he didn’t tie it on to her so he put it on a sturdy chain and put it around her neck before taping it under the bag.’

Carter took the chain from Ebony and allowed it to snake down onto the desk where it lay coiled. ‘We need to talk to all her friends again, re-examine all the evidence. Look at CCTV from the Tube station when she disappeared to see if we can find a match with anyone hanging about the canal,’ said Carter, who was mulling things over and still playing with the chain. ‘You compiled the list of friends we need to talk to, Robbo?

‘Yes.’ Robbo tapped on his keyboard and the printer started up. He pulled out a sheet and then handed it across the desk to Carter. ‘The top five names on the list are her closest friends.’

‘What did they say at the time?’ asked Carter.

‘They all told the same story,’ answered Ebony, staring at the photo of Emily Styles on the front page of the file. ‘That Emily was a bit unpredictable, that she liked to party but that she was a good mother. This photo was taken by the third friend on the list Danielle Foster.’

‘We need to re-interview them now,’ said Carter. ‘Get hold of them and get them in for an interview. We can’t keep Emily Styles’ identity a secret any more. It’s time to give the press a name. Perhaps then Hawk will come out of hiding.’