Jenny scrambled to look it up. “A navy-blue Ford Focus, sir.”
“It wasn’t him. Ask Tessa Parvin if Arina knew anyone with a white van. That includes extended family.”
“Yes, sir.” Jenny got on the phone.
“Pity we can’t pick up the reg number when he drives away.” Rob frowned at the screen. The camera had been positioned towards the pavement, not the passing traffic. It didn’t help that the entire road was under a canopy of trees, which made the images dark and grainy.
Will’s computer pinged.
“It’s a reply from Ansel,” he said.
“That was quick.” Peter must have been sitting at his desk and read the email almost immediately.
“He reckons it’s a Vauxhall Vivaro or Movano, he can’t be sure which.”
“You get that, Jenny?” called Rob.
She gave him a silent thumbs up.
It was four-thirty and they were about to start their joint team update, when Rob got an urgent call from a Sergeant Dixon, the police officer in charge of the search at Bisley Common.
“Is that DCI Miller?”
“Yes.” His breath caught in his throat.
“We’ve found what looks to be human remains in a clearing in the woods on the west side of the common, sir. And from the size, I’d say it was a child.”
27
“They’ve found a body,” said Rob, his chest heavy with emotion. Finally, something finite. An indication they were on the right track.
“Is it Arina?” asked Mallory.
“They don’t know yet. But they think it’s a child.”
“Sweet Jesus,” whispered Jenny.
“Forensics is on the way. We’d better get over there.”
Mallory was already pulling on his jacket.
“Will, please update the DCS.” The Chief Superintendent had left to go to a meeting and wasn’t yet back. Will was the only one brave enough to face him.
“Sure thing, guv.”
They sped across Surrey. Angry blue lights and an unapologetic siren. Cars parted like the Red Sea as motorists scrambled to get out of their way.
Sergeant Dixon had texted through the GPS coordinates. “It’s in the western quadrant of the common,” Mallory told him. “In a thick wooded area, by the looks of things.”
Rob parked on Bagshot Road, the closest entry point to the burial site. There were skid marks where the police vehicles had ramped the pavement and driven across the heath to get as close to the crime scene as possible.
He couldn’t do that in his car.
A police constable directed them to the grave.
“Who would have thought it?” he puffed, as they strode across the heath. “The little tyke buried right here on the common.” It was clear he was a local.
The sun was still high in the sky and the common baked in a hazy, blond light. Midges darted out of the undergrowth at their faces.
The burial site was cordoned off. One small grave in the middle of a blazing yellow cordon. Onlookers craned their necks to see something, anything. But there was nothing to see. A white forensic tent had been erected over the remains. Stark and alien amidst the soft golds and greens of the heath.
“Sergeant Dixon?” A heavy-set man with sunken eyes and a thick jaw strode out to meet them.
The man nodded and extended his hand.
“DCI Miller and this is DI Mallory.”
“Good to meet you. Come this way.”
A PC handed them forensic over-suits complete with shoe coverings and masks. They kitted up.
Silver stepping plates led the way towards the tent. Even though Rob had been at several crime scenes over the last few years, he never lost the sense of dread. He figured that was a good thing.
It was hot inside the tent, but the pathologist was working fast. She didn’t look up as Rob and Mallory entered.
“Good afternoon, DCI Miller.” She didn’t take her eyes off the body.
“Liz.”
Rob had worked with Liz Kramer several times before. She was a terse, but highly intelligent woman who didn’t suffer fools gladly. Nothing got past her. He was glad she’d been assigned the case. Beside her, holding a clipboard and recording all the evidence she was extracting, was an earnest young man, also in a white over-suit.
“What can you tell me?” he asked.
She didn’t reply straight away, but rather removed a metal object from the soil close to the victim’s head and carefully placed it into a plastic evidence bag.
Then she glanced up. “Looks to be female, lower teens, maybe as young as eleven or twelve. I can’t be sure until I get her back to the lab.”
“But you’re sure it’s a girl?” His voice was raspy.
She raised an eyebrow. “I’d say so, judging by the pelvis, although it is hard to tell when they’re so young and underdeveloped.”
“Christ.” It could be her.
“Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Yes and no.” He gave her a meaningful look.
She sighed. “I know what you mean.”
There was a pause, then she added, “By the level of decomposition, I’d say she’s been here for a couple of years. Again, I can’t be sure until we’ve done all the tests. There is also some evidence of animal disturbance.”
Rob forced himself to take a look. This was the part that got to him, for once seen, he couldn't unsee it. He carried a whole photo album of dead people in his brain.
If this was Arina, there was nothing left to identify her. Her skin was almost all gone, and what little was left was stretched tight across her skeletal face. Her hair was grey and dirty, impossible to determine what colour it once was. He recalled the photographs in the file. Arina had had glossy black hair reaching halfway down her back.
He swallowed to get rid of the foul taste in his mouth.
Her clothes had fared better than she had. “Is that a school uniform?” He peered at the threadbare fibres covering her torso.
“I don’t think so,” Liz replied. “It looks to me like some sort of covering. A sheet or a shroud. She is wearing a dress, but it’s so discoloured, it’s hard to say if it’s a school uniform or not. I’ll know more once I get it off her.”
“She looks so peaceful,” Mallory
