Woman in the Water

Chapter Eleven

It was amazing how much the woman’s appearance had improved since she had come in just a few days ago. She wouldn’t be winning any beauty competitions just yet, but the swelling on her face was almost gone, and she was sitting upright in the bed when Adrian and Imogen arrived at the hospital. But her face was still a patchwork of pinks and purples.

Imogen noticed the way the woman smiled at Adrian. She wasn’t threatened by every female who spoke to Adrian, but she had come to realise he was more naive than she had first thought. He didn’t seem to notice when he was being manipulated by a woman, or even flirted with, which was refreshing. Probably because he didn’t have a manipulative bone in his body.

Maybe he deserved more credit than she was giving him, but she was concerned that someone might take advantage of his good nature. This woman was obviously just expressing her gratitude again and yet there was still something about her that Imogen had a problem with. She was off in some way.

They had to tell her about the body of the man, they had to ask her who he was, and Imogen had a feeling they weren’t going to get the truth. But they at least had to try.

‘Hello. I am DS Imogen Grey. I need to talk to you about something.’

‘OK,’ the woman said, sucking in a breath, bracing herself for the conversation.

‘There’s no easy way to say this. We found the body of a young man near where DS Miles found you. We are in the process of identifying him. Do you know who he was?’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t,’ she said too quickly, reaching for her glass of water.

She gulped it down. She was clearly trying to obscure her face for a moment, just enough to compose herself. It was obvious the question wasn’t a complete surprise to her.

What had happened to her? Why wouldn’t she tell them? Imogen didn’t have a medical degree, or in fact any degree at all, but she felt sure this woman was lying about not remembering. Why wouldn’t she want them to know who she was? Or who the man she was with was? Could Adrian see past what was happening to her? Could he see she was lying to them? Imogen wasn’t sure.

‘So, you have no recollection of him? Of what happened?’ Imogen said.

‘I’m sorry, I wish I did,’ she said. ‘Was it quick? When he died, was it quick?’

‘We don’t know yet. He sustained some very serious injuries,’ Adrian said.

‘I’m really tired. I would like to be alone, if it’s all the same to you. I really can’t tell you anything useful.’

Can’t? Or won’t? Imogen thought.

‘We’ll be back again if we learn anything about your situation. Do you have any idea as to why no one would have reported you missing?’ Imogen asked.

‘None, I’m sorry.’ Their Jane Doe lay back and folded her arms, closing her eyes.

‘It’s highly unusual,’ Imogen said, hoping to catch the woman’s eye. She wanted her to know she was on to her, in case there was anything to be on to.

But Jane Doe wasn’t going to say anything that might give an indication as to who she was, that much was clear. They were wasting their time talking to her. They could come back when they had more information on the body – maybe then they would find something they could press her with. They could run a DNA sample on the dead body, something they couldn’t do to Jane Doe without her permission, which she hadn’t granted. At this time, she was an obstruction to finding the truth and they had to treat her as such. After the forensic anthropologist had reconstructed the man’s face, they would come back and question her further.

‘If you need anything, get the nurse to call me,’ Adrian said.

‘Thank you, Adrian. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,’ the woman said, reaching over and taking Adrian by the hand.

Imogen had to walk away; she didn’t like thinking the things she was thinking. This woman was vulnerable and needed both their protection and their help. So why did Imogen feel like they were being sucked into some big black hole of a mess? She wouldn’t ignore her instincts. Every time she had in the past, she had kicked herself for not listening to that little voice inside her head that told her something was wrong. Right now, that little voice was screaming.

Chapter Twelve

They asked me who he was. I couldn’t tell them; they can’t find out who I am. If they do, then he will find out I am here.

I heard the nurse talking about how there is a video online of the detective pulling me out of the water. I can no longer disappear. Maybe he didn’t mean it when he said he was done with me and wanted me dead.

Who am I kidding?

Chapter Thirteen

Dr Forrester was placing an eyeball in the socket of a plaster mould of a skull when Adrian and Imogen entered his office on the Streatham Campus of Exeter University. The office was a cornucopia of dusty old books and curios, the way you imagine a professor’s office to look. There were several clay skulls at various stages of development around the room. Adrian had seen plenty of dramatisations of this kind of thing on the TV, but it was fascinating to see in person.

Gary stood up excitedly as they approached. ‘Imogen, Adrian, this is Dr Carl Forrester.’

Dr Forrester nodded hello to them. ‘I would shake your hands, but I’m a bit mucky at present.’

‘The doctor is reconstructing our John Doe’s face,’ Gary said.

‘Already?’ Imogen asked.

‘What is it you’re doing? How do you do that? How do you know what his eyes were like?’

Adrian fired a series of questions at the professor. This kind of thing seemed like magic to Adrian and yet he had seen the results with his own eyes before. It worked. What was it they said? Magic was just science we don’t understand yet, which, in Adrian’s case, was almost all science.

‘I spoke to your pathologist last night and she sent me photos and measurements. From the body, I would say that we are looking at a Caucasian male in his late twenties. He has brown hair and brown eyes, and would have stood around five foot eleven, which we know because the pathologist told us; that’s not information we normally have when reconstructing.’

‘How did you get the skull so quickly? Is pathology done with it?’ Adrian asked.

‘We did an MRI of the head and then used a program to create a 3D image of the skull from the source material. We were then able to print a 3D replica of it, so we didn’t need the actual skull,’ Gary said excitedly.

‘When that was ready, I began to attach the markers and the eyeballs. Next, I will start to build muscle up to the marker lines,’ Dr Forrester said.

‘How do you know where the marker lines are?’ Adrian said.

‘There’s a lot of measuring and maths involved, plus decades of research and other people’s work to pull from. We measure the skull and construct markers of varying depths, which we place in specific points on the skull that will in turn guide us when creating the flesh and muscles out of clay.

‘We already have more to work on than usual, because the actual skull is still … well, fleshy. The eyeball that I have just inserted is on a bed of clay to bring it to the right depth, which is where the flat part of the front of the eye is flush with the socket around it. Next, I will be adding clay to the chin and jaw. Then I fill the spaces in between the markers and smooth it all out until we have a face. You are welcome to stay and watch.’

‘Thanks, Doc,’ Adrian said. ‘When do you think he will be ready?’

‘Give me ’til the end of the day. If I work through, I should have it done.’

Adrian and Imogen stood and watched as Dr Forrester rolled the clay carefully into tiny balls and placed each one in between the markers on the face – small foam tubes of varying lengths. He started on the jawbone, filling the space slowly with the small lumps of clay until they reached the required height, then he smoothed it over until you could barely see the markers anymore.

Adrian would have loved to stay and watch the man work all day, but they had to go and speak to the woman again. All this could be completely unnecessary. She might change her mind and give them the name of the man whose body they found floating in the River Exe. Even as he thought it to himself, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Whoever had hurt the woman had scared her enough to keep her mouth shut. Nothing they could say would change that. They had to keep trying, though. Someone was missing this man and they deserved to know the truth.

Chapter Fourteen

They were soon back at the hospital. Imogen had grown to hate this place: the smell, the noise, everything about it set her on edge. She had been here too many times already, not only with her own injuries, but also visiting Adrian, victims, witnesses. She had never been to hospital for a happy occasion. She didn’t have many friends, certainly none who were interested in having babies, and given her history, she wasn’t sure she would be that happy in that situation, anyway.

The injuries that Imogen had sustained in a previous case made the likelihood of her being able to have a child unlikely. She still thumbed at the scar that ran the length of her torso, given to her by a suspect of that case. The doctors at the time hadn’t completely ruled out having children, but she got the feeling they were just trying to spare her feelings. It wasn’t something she was preoccupied with at the moment, as she wasn’t ready to have kids of her own, but she knew that there might come a time when she might feel differently.

She had never talked about it with Adrian, nor any of her previous boyfriends, either. Adrian had a son, but Adrian was still young enough to have more children, younger than a lot of first-time parents these days. Hospitals made her think about these things and that was annoying; the rest of the time it barely crossed her mind.

They walked towards the ward Jane Doe was on and already could feel tension as people bustled about. Even from this distance they could see the uniformed officer they had left with her now walking in and out of rooms, looking for something or someone. They didn’t even need to hear it before they broke out into a run – their Jane Doe was missing.

‘What the hell happened?’ Imogen called, startling the young PC.

He stood bolt upright and she saw him fumbling for words.

‘Where is she?’ Adrian said.

‘I really needed the loo and I told her I would be back in five minutes. When I got back, her bed was empty,’ the PC said nervously.

‘When exactly did this happen?’ Adrian asked.

‘About twenty minutes ago,’ the PC said sheepishly.

‘You’ve called this in, right?’ Imogen snapped.

‘I thought I would be able to find her.’

‘Have you told hospital security?’ Imogen said.

‘I was just about to,’ PC Milbourne replied.

‘Twenty minutes? She could be anywhere by now.’

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Call it in. We’ll see if anyone saw her leave,’ Imogen said to the PC, whose face was the colour of a raspberry.

She had wanted to add a few expletives, but time was of the essence and, realistically, aside from making her feel better momentarily, it would be completely pointless. The young man looked distraught enough as it was; he had learned a lesson. DCI Kapoor would have a few words for him, anyway.

‘Maybe she didn’t leave of her own accord. I’ll get them to pull up the CCTV and see if anyone was with her. Maybe whoever did that to her found her after that sodding footage got out,’ Adrian said.

‘Hey, this isn’t your fault,’ Imogen said, knowing that Adrian would already be blaming himself for allowing the woman at the riverbank to film him. ‘She probably just left on her own. Let’s find out what happened before we freak out.’

‘I’ll go check with security, you go check the main entrance,’ Adrian said to her and rushed off.

Imogen peered into rooms as she walked briskly towards the main entrance to the hospital. The buses ran quite frequently past the hospital and so she could be on a bus, or she could have walked into the residential area. Given that they knew nothing about her, they had no idea where to look.

It wasn’t just about her, either. They had a body they needed to identify and she was the closest thing they had to a witness. Imogen accepted that the woman had probably lied about not remembering anything and if she did, then she knew the who and perhaps the why. There was no reasonable explanation for her to run away if she genuinely couldn’t remember anything about her situation. Was she afraid of getting in trouble with the police? Was she afraid of a person? Was the man who died her husband? So many more questions …

Imogen knew before she got to the exit that she wouldn’t see the woman, that there would be no way to find her. This case was feeling like one door slamming in her face after another. She pulled her phone out and called Gary to check for any CCTV of the hospital and surrounding neighbourhoods. He could put someone on it while they searched the area. She should get him to make that young PC who was supposed to be watching the woman to do it as punishment, but she wouldn’t trust him not to miss anything.

‘I heard,’ Gary said as he answered the phone. ‘The DCI has already asked me to look for CCTV and she has dispatched a couple of cars to look for Jane Doe. DI Walsh is also on his way to the hospital to speak to PC Milbourne.’

‘We are going to look here as well. Adrian has alerted hospital security in case she is still in the building, but she’s had plenty of time to get away. He said twenty minutes, but I reckon we can add at least another ten minutes to that.’

‘There are cameras on the exits to the hospital, so I should be able to get an exact time for you soon enough. I’ve got the head of hospital security on the other line. I’ll text you when I know,’ Gary said before ringing off.

Imogen reached the exit and went outside. She surveyed the surrounding area, but it was desolate. The bus stop was empty and since they had banned smokers from congregating outside the main entrance, there wasn’t anyone to ask. Why would the woman run? Did she run?

Since the video had hit the internet, they couldn’t be sure at this point that whoever had hurt her the first time hadn’t come back to finish the job. Staring at the car park wasn’t doing her any favours, so she went to find Adrian.

What if they couldn’t find the woman? Was she in danger? Was she dangerous? They had no idea. They had less now than they had this morning, significantly less. Maybe the DNA would come back on John Doe, but she didn’t want to admit to herself how unlikely that was.

Chapter Fifteen

Sitting in the incident room waiting for a reprimand felt a lot like being on detention. Imogen knew the DCI wasn’t going to be happy, but Adrian was more stressed about the missing woman than worried about what the DCI was going to say. She knew he felt personally responsible because he left her bedside and Imogen felt partially responsible for making him do that.

The truth was, no one was to blame except the woman herself. She wasn’t under arrest but just saw an opportunity to leave and left. There were obviously too many questions that she didn’t want to answer. No one could know what she had been through – only she knew that. It was pointless being annoyed with her; she was the victim in this. One of the victims, anyway.

DCI Kapoor walked in and folded her arms.

‘I’ve just spoken with PC Milbourne and he said she gave no indication that she was going anywhere. One second she was there and when he looked again, she was gone. It’s happened now, anyway, so we need to make sure the newspapers don’t find out that we lost her.

‘The Echo have been asking for an interview with you, DS Miles. I said you would give them a call today, so do that before you go home. The last thing we need is them poking around the hospital. Remember: careful, measured answers. Reporters are always looking for an angle, that’s their job. Your job is to make sure they don’t get it.’

‘What if they ask me how she’s doing?’

‘Say she’s up and walking about. You wouldn’t be lying,’ Imogen said.

‘Please, someone tell me we have something else? Any new information on John Doe?’ Kapoor asked.

‘No match on his DNA and his fingerprints aren’t on file with us, either. Dr Forrester will send a photo over when he is done. I have compiled photos of all current male MisPers within a hundred-mile radius. We can expand further if that doesn’t pan out.’

‘How many are there?’ Imogen asked.

‘Too many,’ Gary said.

A brief silence descended over the room as Gary’s words hit home. A person goes missing every ninety seconds in the UK, almost two hundred thousand are reported missing a year. The amount of people who return to their families or home are few and far between. Most families never got any closure, left to assume the worst for ever.

‘Adrian, you go with Gary and see if, together, you can rule out some of those missing people until you get the reconstruction of John Doe’s face.’

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Adrian said, shooting a glance at Imogen as he left the room.

Separation anxiety, she thought.

‘Imogen, I would like you to speak to Dr Hadley who was treating Jane Doe. She is in the liaison room; she was called in for something else, but I thought it would be good if you could have a little chat while she’s here. She spent some time with the patient and may have some information that doesn’t violate the patient’s confidentiality. Maybe she mentioned a person or a place. Also, she might know if Jane Doe made any calls or if anyone suspicious in general was hanging around the hospital.’

‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Imogen said.

‘Go on, then,’ DCI Kapoor said, shooing Imogen out of the office.

Imogen walked towards the liaison room to speak to the doctor, hoping she could give them a lead of some kind. At the moment, they were flying blind.

Chapter Sixteen

Someone had already given Dr Hadley a drink when Imogen arrived in the liaison room. She was occasionally the on-call doctor for the station and so she was friendly with many of the staff. Dr Hadley had even been out on a date with Adrian once, which Imogen couldn’t help but remember every time she saw her. It wasn’t jealousy, more an acknowledgment of the fact, which her brain liked to jab her with.