‘It’s… it’s where the kids were christened,’ Daphne explained. ‘We were some of the last people to use it before they ran out of funding.’
Tomek made a mental note.
‘Do you think the killer might have known that?’ Daphne asked.
‘Possibly,’ Tomek said, though he decided not to add what he was really thinking: Either that, or the killer found an abandoned building by luck and used it as his art studio.
Daphne must have read the expression on his face, because she said, ‘You haven’t told us how you found her, Detective.’
Tomek swallowed deeply before responding.
‘Are you sure you want to hear it?’
Daphne and Roy shared a glance before nodding simultaneously.
‘She was naked,’ he explained. ‘Lying on her back, in the middle of the church. Around her body, wings had been painted in what we think was her blood. There were no obvious physical wounds or lacerations to her body, so we don’t think she suffered. But what I can tell you is that we will do everything in our power to find who did this to your daughter, and Anna here will keep you updated with everything that comes in, when it comes in.’
Tomek gave Angelica’s parents time to embrace one another, to be with one another in this moment where their lives had just become fractured, torn apart.
It was a while before anyone spoke. In the end, it was Roy who did. His face was flushed red, his eyes bloodshot, dribbles of snot hanging from his nose.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he said. ‘My darling angel baby girl. I can’t believe she’s gone.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Anna had buckled beneath the Whitakers’ pressure and arranged for them to identify Angelica’s body as soon as was practically possible. Almost four hours after their original meeting, and nearly ten hours in total since the body had first been found, Angelica had been moved from the church to the mortuary at Southend Hospital. Right now, Anna was down there with them, confirming Angelica’s identity ahead of her post-mortem in the morning. Meanwhile, Tomek was in the major incident room with Chey, Rachel, and DC Oscar Perez, or Captain Actually, as he was more affectionately known. Since the investigation’s upgrade to murder, Tomek had been allowed to draft in an extra member of the team, and so the number had increased from two to three. It was still a ridiculously low number for a murder investigation, but Tomek was confident he had the best people for the job.
They had locked themselves in the MIR for the past thirty minutes, leaving a note on the door saying that they weren’t to be disturbed. A neighbour of Angelica’s – someone who lived farther up the road – had sent in a handful of home security footage from their front door. It included footage from the night of her disappearance, but Chey had also requested the days prior to it, in case they noticed someone hovering around Angelica Whitaker’s flat before she’d gone missing. First, they had started with the night of her disappearance, right at the time she’d left the house to go to the club. She had appeared on the camera screen at 10:30 pm, walking towards a taxi and climbing inside. Since then, all they’d watched was a handful of cars driving back and forth, and the odd outdoor cat strolling in front of the lens. Now they were up to 1:28 am, the time she was due back from the club.
She arrived a few seconds later. The image on the screen was black and white and heavily pixelated, which made it difficult to discern certain features – in particular the make and model of passing vehicles – but there was no confusing the cab that had dropped all the girls off, and there was no doubting that one of the passengers had been Angelica Whitaker. After sliding precariously out of the minicab, stumbling on her high heels and lowering her skirt to a more comfortable length, she kissed her girlfriends goodbye, shut the door, and then waved as the car had turned in the road and driven off. Then, once the car had disappeared out of shot, she stayed there, still waving, still watching, as if frozen.
For a moment, Tomek wondered whether she would either turn left or right – left towards her home or right towards her death. A second later, she turned left, sauntering drunkenly towards her house.
And then the footage went silent for a while. Nothing, save the odd leaf blowing or a fox trotting past. Tomek always found there was something eerie about looking at a still image on the CCTV. His brain knew there was nothing there, but because he knew it was a video, his mind played tricks on him and made him believe that something was going to jump out and attack him, like a scene from Paranormal Activity.
Tomek glanced at the timestamp on the screen. It said 01:51. One minute until her phone disconnected from the cell towers. Less than thirty seconds later, a car emerged from the main road, its LED headlights blinding the security camera and distorting their view of the vehicle. Tomek ordered Chey to pause the footage. He climbed out of his chair and moved closer to the monitor to inspect the vehicle. The lights were too bright, and it was shielded by other cars on the road. That, and the fact the footage’s clarity was as grainy as something from the eighties meant it was impossible to identify the car.
Tomek told Chey to resume the playback.
Then, ten seconds later, with the car parked up on the side of the road, a figure emerged. Angelica. Dressed in what looked like the same outfit she’d been wearing only twenty minutes before. She skipped towards the car, climbed in, and then drove off, unknowingly heading towards her death.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tomek was certain Angelica Whitaker had climbed into the car because it was someone she had known. Someone she’d trusted.
Shortly after seeing the footage, he’d asked Chey and Martin to call round to the local taxi companies to see if they’d received any requests for a pickup at Angelica’s house, but none of them had reported receiving any such calls. Then he’d asked them to put in a request with Uber for the same information. But he was doubtful. There was something about the way she’d skipped towards the car, with a spring in her step, and just climbed into the front seat without hesitation. There was none of that “Pick up for Angelica?” nonsense that came with getting into a taxi, that brief pause when you spoke with the driver to make sure he was in the right place. No, this was someone she’d known. Someone she was expecting.
And who else fit that brief better than an ex-boyfriend?
Tomek knocked on the door to Sammy Mercer’s home and waited. A few moments later, the front door opened, and he was greeted by a woman in her late fifties, sporting a bobbed haircut with a pair of thick glasses pressed closely against her face. She looked at him, confused.
‘Yes?’ she asked, hesitation and caution lacing her tone.
Tomek took a step back to allay her incipient fear, then removed his warrant card from his pocket. ‘I wonder if I’m in the right place. Does Sammy live here?’
‘Sammy?’
‘Yes. Sammy Mercer. I was wondering if I could speak with him.’
‘Sammy? The police? What do you want with Sammy?’
‘It’s regarding Angelica Whitaker…’
The woman’s face brightened at the mention of Angelica’s name. ‘Oh, Angie. I do miss her… and Sammy was never the same after they split up. But… but is she okay? Is everything all right?’
Tomek didn’t have time for this.
‘Is Sammy home? I really need to speak to him.’
‘Oh. Yes. Right. Okay. Yes, he’s in.’
As she called out her son’s name, she pushed the door to, as though trying to stop Tomek from hearing. A moment later, a deep voice called from somewhere in the house.
‘He’s just on his way,’ Sammy’s mother said, but made no gesture to invite him into her home. They waited awkwardly, staring at each other, Tomek waiting to be let in.
When the invitation didn’t come, he asked, ‘Is it all right if I speak with Sammy inside? This is important.’
‘All right, Mum, what’s—’
