They ate in the carpark, in silence. It was only after she’d finished, that she said, “I really don’t think it’s possible. My father wasn’t there for long enough, and he wasn’t the type.” She shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I had to ask.”
“There was an Uncle though.”
Rob glanced at her. “Could he have been molesting your sister?”
She sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Was he there often?”
“They lived a few doors down. We were always at each other’s houses. They had two rowdy boys, my cousins. I lost touch with them after Rachel disappeared because I moved in with my grandparents, but I remember playing football in their garden.”
She smiled sadly. “Those were happy times. Imagine if he was… Oh, God. It doesn’t bear thinking of.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Rob got out of the car and threw away the rubbish. When he climbed back in, Jo said, “You need to know, don’t you?”
He bit his lip.
“I need to know. If my uncle was abusing my sister, that means she was just like the others.”
“It’s another link,” he said. Although what it meant, he had no idea. Anyone she’d told would be too old to be actively killing young girls now.
“I’m going to find out,” she decided. He frowned. “How?”
“I’m going to visit my mother. I’m going to force her to tell me. If anyone knows, it’s her.”
“I thought she was in a home,” he said, starting the engine.
“She is, but she’s not that far gone that she won’t remember something like that.” Jo’s cheeks were flushed, she was agitated. He was just grateful she hadn’t taken offense, but then that wasn’t her style. She was a detective, first and foremost. Her desire to know the truth would supersede any delicate sensibility she may have.
That was one of the many things he liked about her.
42
Father Ed invited them for tea in the vestry.
Rob walked in warily, never having been this deep inside a church before. Was it unholy to drip on the floor?
“I’m glad you’ve come.” He took their coats and hung them on a hook behind the door. “We’re having a vigil tomorrow night for the dead girls whose bodies they found. The whole village will be there. You will come, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Rob said.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Jo gave him one of her heart-warming smiles.
He beamed, throwing his hands in the air like a sermon. “Wonderful. I’ll just pop on the kettle and then you can ask me your questions.”
“Is that a northern accent I detect?” asked Jo.
He grinned at her. “Aye. I was born in Ireland, but we moved around a lot when I was a lad. Liverpool, Birmingham. Goodness, I can’t remember all the places we stayed.”
“Manchester?” asked Jo. “That’s where I’m from.”
“Aye, Manchester too, but not for long. I think we were only there for a few weeks before we moved on.”
“Do you remember when that was?” Jo asked. “We might have lived there at the same time.”
He paused, kettle in hand. “I think I was about sixteen at the time, but I can’t be sure. Like I said, we moved around a lot.”
Rob met Jo’s gaze.
“What brought you to Bisley?” Rob accepted a cup of tea.
“I was offered a position here at St Johns the Baptist. It looked like a cosy town with a small parish, those are the best kind, you know. So, I accepted. I’m not married, so it was easy enough to move.”
“When was this?” Rob wanted to know.
“Oh, twelve years ago now.” He smiled. “Best decision I ever made.”
“It could have been him,” said Jo as they walked up the footpath behind the church towards the well. It was still drizzling, but not hard enough to forgo a visit to the well.
“Sixteen is very young to kill someone,” he said. “And we don’t even know if he knew your sister.”
“I didn’t want to spook him by asking.” She hesitated. “Do you think we should?”
“Let’s leave it for now. We can ask him at the vigil tomorrow night. Maybe bring a photo with you to jog his memory.”
“Good idea. This it?”
They stopped at the small rectangular stone block. “Yep, this is it.”
The trickle was heavier now, as it flowed from the pipe onto the already wet pebbles below.
Jo crouched down. “I was expecting something a bit grander from a thousand-year-old well.”
He chuckled. “That’s what we thought. But the interesting thing is, that’s Bisley Wood.”
She stood up and peered over the graveyard, across the grey meadow, towards the dense grouping of trees in the near distance. “That’s where the bodies were buried?”
“Yep. It’s not a mile from here.”
She cocked her head. “I’m up for a walk if you are?”
They set off along the footpath. It was patchy in parts, disappearing almost entirely in the overgrown areas.
“Careful you don’t slip,” said Rob, taking her hand. They clambered over a rickety turnstile into the meadow where, unbelievably, two cows were grazing, oblivious to the rain.
The dark oaks and pines up ahead lured them in. As they got closer, the grass degraded to leaf-covered dirt.
“I see what you mean by creepy.” Jo took his hand. He’d tried to describe the burial site to her before, but she’d wanted to see it for herself.
“Maybe it’s the thought of so many lost souls buried here for years.”
The path disappeared completely.
“Do you know where we’re going?” Jo asked.
Rob tried to gauge where they were. He consulted the map in his head.
“I think it’s that way.” He pointed towards the tangled mesh of trees.
“Well, we can’t get through that, we’ll have to go around.”
The veered to the right where it wasn’t so overgrown and picked their way around the matted foliage until there was space to walk between the trees again.
“Here we go.” They’d looped back on their previous bearing.
“It can’t be much further.” At least he bloody hoped not. A large drip fell down the back of his neck. This was not the day
