Reading through the file, she asked the occasional question seeking clarification or elaboration. Janssen seemed on top of his information, being able to answer most of her queries. If he didn’t know, he would say so. That was refreshing. In Norwich, she was forever surrounded by those who felt it a weakness to admit they were unsure of something, let alone confessing to their ignorance of a subject.
They took a turning to the right at a small roundabout signposted towards Fakenham. He was talking now, filling her in on the background of the victim. She was the eldest daughter of a well-connected family with a long history in the medical profession. Apparently, the parents hoped she would follow in their footsteps and go on to medical school. She wondered if the girl felt the pressure. Thinking back to her own childhood she could see similarities of sorts. Tamara’s own parents were both academically gifted and they were strong influences on her life, so her education was better than many of those who went through the state system. They also went to great lengths to instil a strong ethical foundation in her.
Despite their overall parenting style aiming to bring up confident, socially responsible children, there was always the undercurrent for them to aspire to ecologically responsible careers. Tamara’s brothers were currently senior partners in overseas NGOs and her younger sister was a Green Party candidate at the last general election, so they had succeeded in their mission. Tamara, on the other hand, was considered something of a misfit. Although, judging from some of the kids she’d come across in her work, many parents would love to have a daughter as driven as she was but her decision to enter the police force was met with disappointment at best and on other occasions, disdain.
Listening to Janssen talk about the case, the involvement of the boyfriend piqued her curiosity. He was seemingly cut from very different cloth to the victim. The artist’s wife also required some looking into. Janssen appeared to have a nose for when something was off but as he rightly pointed out, at this point it was purely instinct. This case appeared to be revolving around internal family dynamics and how they might reach out and draw others in from the periphery. In Holly, Tamara saw a young girl not too far removed from her own experience, keeping secrets, mixing with those her parents would disapprove of and her true personality may prove to be far from the one she presented to the world.
Chapter Eight
Tom Janssen held back, watching Tamara Greave assess the place where they’d discovered Holly Bettany’s body. She had been removed the previous afternoon, transferred into the care of the pathologist to determine the cause and method of her death. The path through the nature reserve remained closed off to the public with a uniformed presence required at both ends of the cordon. A fingertip forensic search took place on the Saturday afternoon but there were no signs of her shoes, bag or any other items that may have belonged to the teenager. They were maintaining the integrity of the scene until the pathologist delivered his results.
He was impressed with the DCI so far. She had a no-nonsense approach, eager to get involved but, at the same time, seemed happy enough to listen. At first, the prospect of a newly promoted SIO, even if only in an acting capacity, taking charge of the investigation concerned him. Not because he had any preconceived ideas surrounding how things should be run but it was more the rapport that they may or may not have. Usually, it was Marcus Galbraith who would travel across the county in this scenario. They got on well, knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses. The two of them complemented one another and he enjoyed working alongside him. He was perhaps a little bit old-school but you knew where you stood. Greave on the other hand, was an entirely new proposition. New to him, as well as new to Norfolk.
She knelt alongside where Holly was found, staring at the bank. What she was looking at, or for, he had no idea. Rising, she turned and looked up and down the coast. The coastal fog that rolled in overnight was rapidly burnt off by the rising sun and once again, they were now blessed with a beautiful day. “Stunning here, isn’t it?” she said to him and he nodded in agreement. “Any thoughts on how she came to be out here?”
Janssen glanced out to sea. A cargo ship was making its way north hugging the coastline having circumvented the huge offshore wind farm to the south. “She was out with her boyfriend and her peers earlier in the evening. We’re working on the theory of her either coming here with her boyfriend or alone with the intention of meeting someone else. I didn’t see any signs of defensive wounds on her body but we will have to wait for confirmation of that.”
He watched as Tamara looked back to where Holly had lain, possibly recreating the scene in her mind from the pictures taken and supplied in the case file. “When can we expect the report?”
“Monday.” Which was tomorrow but somehow it didn’t feel like the weekend anymore and Janssen was losing track.
“Where do you think her shoes went?” He got the impression she was genuinely puzzled by the missing shoes and not that she expected him to know the answer.
“Her feet were dirty but that doesn’t mean she didn’t have shoes, only that she wasn’t wearing them all the time.”
“Uncomfortable?”
“Possibly. These paths aren’t the best. If you’re in trainers or walking boots it’s not a problem but if not, you could be tempted to remove them.”
“Bit cold.” Tamara flicked her eyebrows as she voiced
