‘That’s Samuel Avery out there smoking just before Holly appears. Then he goes inside. Go through Avery’s statement again and all the others. Was he back at his bar all night or did he leave for a while? Also, Francesca Carter, one of the bridesmaids, said that she saw Holly talking to a man on the terrace. They were tucked away in the corner. It could be that she left him there and walked around the building. I haven’t had the chance to go through all the interviews yet. Did anyone see Holly after the terrace or walking through reception?’ Gina gazed around as O’Connor flicked through his notes and Wyre checked the system.
‘Smith, you were there too.’
PC Smith poured a sachet of sugar into his coffee. ‘I took a fair few statements and I have read through Kapoor’s too. There are absolutely loads of them. One hundred and twelve to be precise.’
‘Anyone?’ Gina needed the team working quicker on this but she knew that analysing the contents of over a hundred interviews wouldn’t be an easy task.
O’Connor rubbed his head. ‘From what I’ve read, no one saw Holly after she went back in through the front. It could be that she went straight up to her room. A lot of the guests couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t around, they just didn’t see her. There were a lot of people there, then add the gatecrashers to that – possibly another ten of those – and add to the mix that a lot of them were off their faces, we have a lot of unreliable witnesses. There’s a lot of “not sures” and “maybes” in the mix. No one can say for definite that they saw Holly after nine fifteen.’
‘I just hope forensics come up with something.’ Gina placed a finger over her lips as she thought. ‘Anything back yet?’
Wyre leaned back in her chair. ‘No. There was so much taken away, I’d be surprised if we hear soon. Bad news though, guv.’
Shoulders slumped, Gina sighed. ‘Go on.’
‘I read Alison Reed’s interview notes. She’s the mother of the bride. Holly’s room was used for getting ready. The hairdresser came. They all did their make-up in there. The table props were stored there, looking after those had been Holly’s job. People came and went all day.’
‘That’s all we need. Was there a photographer or videographer?’
Briggs entered with an empty cup. ‘Yes, the photographer left about eight. Her details were taken last night from Alison Reed, the mother of the bride.’
‘And the photos?’
‘They’ve been emailed to me, all of them. Over eight hundred raw photos. I’m just downloading them now then I’ll get them uploaded onto the system. The Warwickshire Herald has been onto me already. I’m just preparing a statement.’ Briggs passed them and headed to the kitchen.
PC Smith, O’Connor and Wyre all waited for further instructions.
‘We know what we have to do. So much work, so little time. I want all of those photos scrutinised. Anything that looks out of place, any of Holly, I want them flagged up for my attention. Another thing. Smith?’
‘Yes, guv.’
‘Take Kapoor back to the manor. Phillip Brighton, our man in custody who has been charged with supplying drugs, claims to have seen a man masturbating in the woods. He gave us the location of the clearing. I want this checked out and want forensics to go in first. I think we can all agree that this is unusual behaviour and I want this man found. His description of this man was poor. Brighton claims it was dark and he was stoned. Not much to go on but we may just have a shoe print, a cigarette butt, anything. We have to consider this person to be a person of interest. Also, Brighton’s clothing has been taken and has gone to the lab after we spotted what looks like blood on his jumper. If this turns out to be Holly’s blood then he’ll be high up on our list of suspects.’ Gina glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got to get to the morgue.’
Wyre stood up, ready to accompany her.
‘Any word on Holly Long’s phone? Bernard didn’t find one at the scene.’
Everyone shook their heads.
‘To me, that’s strange. People are glued to their phones. She must have had one. I’ll ask her mother when we see her.’
As Gina packed up her notebook and laptop while finishing her coffee, DS Jacob Driscoll walked through the door and dropped three packets of chewy sweets onto the central desks. ‘Bloody airports. I’ve had my fill of lying on a floor while waiting for the dodgy plane to be replaced.’ He yawned. Gina stepped back and held her breath. The sweaty smell coming from her colleague told her he hadn’t even been home to freshen up. ‘I came straight away. Emergency, you said.’ His short hair shone on his head, the precise cut around his ears giving him a well-preened look.
‘Have a wash and be ready to go to Furnace and Blower Ales this afternoon.’
‘I gather you’re not taking me for a pint?’ He lifted up his armpits and grimaced as he inhaled.
She left him with a telling smile as she snatched her coffee cup from the desk. ‘I’ll meet you by the car,’ Gina called across to Wyre as she hurried to the kitchenette.
Her phone beeped as she almost collided into Briggs. She pulled it from her pocket.
Gracie and I have left. At least we know where we stand at the Cleevesford Cleaver B&B. We’re off to Cadbury World – alone. Not even a message or a phone call. Thanks again.
Gina threw the cup into the sink, breaking it. Her daughter had checked into a bed and breakfast for the rest of her stay. Hands shaking, she steadied herself on the small strip of chipped worktop. ‘Why the hell didn’t I call my daughter?’
‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’ Briggs brushed his fingers over his crumpled shirt and a bit of his usually tidy hair flopped forward. It had been a long night for them all and there was no chance of popping home for a sleep.
‘Sorry.’
‘We haven’t spoken for ages. In fact, we haven’t spoken properly since—’
‘I can’t talk about that here. You know I can’t.’ A flash of pain shot through her head. Briggs knew her secret. He’d known it for a while but she couldn’t think about that right now. Not yet. He said he’d understood but now it felt as though he was badgering her for more. Not satisfied with what she’d given already.
‘We need to talk soon. Really, Gina, we do.’
A look passed between them. The kindness in his eyes that she’d been so familiar with wasn’t quite there. He gave her nothing but a vacant expression to fathom.
‘I’m sorry.’ This is exactly how she didn’t want to feel. That’s why secrets were best being kept and she’d blown it.
He placed a hand over hers. ‘Stop saying you’re sorry.’
As he left, all she could feel was the warmth he’d left behind on her fingers and that would soon be gone. He’d read her well. She’d wanted him to touch her. She felt the frostiness within spreading through her body as she thought of Marianne Long and her next appointment of the day.
The morgue – she was going to be late.
Chapter Fourteen
Gina headed along the corridor and was met by a suited woman, her hair in a tight bun and her glasses dangling over her chest on a piece of cord. ‘Come through.’ She opened the door leading to a small, whitewashed waiting room where Marianne Long was sitting.