She nodded back to PC Smith. ‘Call Kapoor, tell her to keep Kerry there.’
As Gina leaned against the door it creaked open.
‘I recognise those boots. Cassandra Wilson was wearing them when she made her statement.’ She held up a hand to silence the chafing of coats against stab vests. Nothing, not a sound came from the house. She crept through the boot room and pushed the kitchen door open. ‘Mr Reed, Mrs Reed. It’s DI Harte and DS Driscoll from Cleevesford Station. We have a warrant to search the property.’ She pulled the paperwork from her pocket along with her identification and held it in front of her as she headed through the kitchen. Silence followed. ‘Cassandra Wilson?’
Jacob and a further two officers followed her in, all of them listening intently. She thought Kerry’s kitchen had been large but it paled into insignificance compared to this vast open plan kitchen diner. Two couches and a coffee table adorned the one end, complete with coffee table books on wildlife and business. Everything gleamed and the dark shaker kitchen looked newly installed. As Gina passed a large dresser full of best china, she spotted a scuff mark on a white door. Maybe it was the pantry or it could lead to the hall. She edged closer and pressed the handle. ‘Mr Reed. Mrs Reed. Cassandra?’ Again, there was no answer. She pushed the door open and gestured for the two officers to continue to the lounge while she and Jacob headed down the cellar steps.
Jacob reached for the cord and the light flickered on. ‘DI Harte and DS Driscoll. Hello.’ Three steps down, Gina spotted the wine racks.
‘Anything, guv?’ Jacob whispered.
The light flickered again and all she could hear was the intermittent buzzing noise they made. Gina felt a surge of adrenaline run through her body as she spotted the red pool. ‘Get a paramedic,’ she said as she hurried down and kneeled beside Cassandra. She began to untie the woman’s hands to release her from the chair. Removing the gag, she leaned in and hoped more than anything she would feel the young woman’s warm breath on her cheek, but there was nothing. Blood seeped from her head where she’d hit the floor. An angry cut from her temple to her ear led Gina’s gaze to the red marks on her neck. She reached for her wrist and felt for a pulse. ‘Where are the paramedics?’
‘They’re coming, guv.’
‘Hurry, I can feel a pulse.’
Cassandra coughed and began to choke. Gina kept her on her side and reached into her mouth with her index finger. She coughed again and a piece of tooth escaped from the side of her mouth as she tried to murmur. ‘You’re safe. I’m DI Harte and help is on its way.’ She snatched the scarf that had been in Cassandra’s mouth and placed it hard against the wound on her head to try to stem the bleeding from her face.
‘Mr Reed…’ A blood bubble escaped the side of her mouth.
‘Shh, try to remain still.’
‘Airport.’ As the word escaped her mouth, she let out a pained scream and her head flopped back.
Gina listened as the paramedics thundered down the steps and pushed her aside.
‘You’re going to be alright. You’re safe now,’ Gina called over the commotion in the hope that Cassandra had heard her. She stepped back and pulled out her phone, getting immediately connected to Briggs. ‘It’s the Reeds, Trevor and Alison Reed. We’ve just found Cassandra Wilson in their basement left for dead. She managed to say airport. They’re leaving the country. Get word to all the airports and, for good measure, the ports and the Eurotunnel too.’
‘Good work, Harte.’ He ended the call.
She wiped her bloodied hands on her jacket. The younger paramedic spoke softly in Cassandra’s ear and she responded with a pained smile.
‘Guv,’ O’Connor called. ‘I’ve just found an almost blank piece of paper in the study. It has today’s date and Birmingham Airport printed on the top right on an almost blank page. It’s page three of three. The other two have gone.’
She grabbed her phone again and got straight through to Briggs. ‘I’m heading to Birmingham Airport.’ She ran up the stairs and into the lounge. On the grand piano sat a large silver framed photo of Mr and Mrs Reed. She snapped it with her phone. ‘I’m sending you a photo of the Reeds. Send it to the force control room to get a log set up and to radio airport police and tell the duty inspector to meet me there. Tell them to look at the log urgently. If needs be, text them the photo. Just hurry. The Reeds can’t be allowed to leave the country.’
‘Okay. Doing it now.’
She hung up and pressed send.
‘Jacob. We’ve got to go.’
He ran across the kitchen. ‘The airport it is.’
‘We better not have missed them.’
Chapter Sixty-Eight
He couldn’t have timed it any better. They hurried through check in and he knew that a cold glass of champagne had his name on it. He’d earned it. The house he’d purchased under the new company name in Dubai awaited their arrival. The staff had made up the rooms and were prepped to pick them up at the airport when they landed. He thought of the desperate girl, lying dead in the cellar. No one would find her for ages and he knew they would both treasure that last memory forever – this time it was a shared memory.
He admired the beautiful woman walking next to him as they entered the executive lounge. He’d never loved anyone so much and Holly had threatened everything. That woman hadn’t been a patch on his wife. They had an understanding, a shared darkness. Other people would never understand. They reached highs that only being on the brink of death produced.
‘Let’s make a toast.’ He topped up her glass.
She took the bubbly and followed him to the vacant seats by the window. ‘I don’t want to make a toast.’
‘Just drink it, will you?’ He gently gripped her neck and felt her warm breath on his cheek.
‘I killed someone and the baby wasn’t even yours! I can’t get over this, I can’t—’
He couldn’t allow her to lose it. They were so close to their new life, besides, there was no going back. ‘Come on. Why did you play along then if you were so fed up with me?’
She shrugged. ‘I wasn’t prepared to lose everything. I’ve turned into something I hate. I’ve turned into you.’
‘I wasn’t a killer until you started that ball rolling, you can’t blame me for that one.’
‘What have I done? When I thought the baby was yours—’ Her eyes watered a little. ‘I wanted her dead and when I told you what I’d done, I thought you’d be horrified but you weren’t. Why weren’t you disgusted? Why didn’t you tell the police? It should have ended that night.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I knew then we’d started something and…’ She paused and stared into his eyes. ‘I wanted it. I looked into her eyes as she gagged for breath and I understood you. I enjoyed it and I wanted it and I wanted to share it with you.’
He let that sink in. His loving wife had done what came naturally to them, asphyxiation had been a part of their life for so long. He also loved that she played his victim in the cellar and he was happy to play hers sometime soon. He stroked his neck under his shirt – she certainly liked role-play. Trevor leaned over and kissed her. Was she enough? She had to be. For now, she was all he needed. Her gaze met his and he knew he could never upset her again, he could never be sure if she would end him. She could never be sure if he would end her either. Trust was so easily given and so easily lost.