“We think that it could be Noah Huntley, and that for whatever reason, he or someone killed these young men and dumped their bodies,” said Kate.
“The police might think they have their man in Noah Huntley, but that’s down to our investigation,” said Tristan. “It was Kate who linked the deaths of Hayden Oakley with David Lamb and Gabe Kemp and two potential other victims, and at that point we had to hand over our findings and Joanna’s case files to the police.”
“The police will have to find a definitive link between the deaths of all the young men. At present the evidence is compelling, but in a court of law, this could be seen as circumstantial without DNA evidence to link all the dead men,” said Kate. “The bodies were found badly decayed, and they’ve since been cremated.”
Bill and Bev were quiet. Kate couldn’t work out what they were thinking.
“So Noah Huntley could go free?” said Bill.
“If the police don’t have any DNA to link the young men, they’re going to find it hard to build a case.”
“We believe that Joanna is the link,” said Tristan. “You asked us to find Joanna, and we want to continue.”
“What about the police reopening Jo’s case?” asked Bev.
“We would cooperate with them, of course, but we would be able to devote all our time to finding out what happened to her.”
Bev was nodding along and dabbing at her eyes. Bill was close to her, gripping her free hand. Kate thought how desperate they both looked. Kate and Tristan still had concerns about some of the conflicting information they’d heard about Bill. They had discussed whether to ask him questions about his business dealings and about the asbestos-contamination story Joanna was looking into about Marco Polo House, but they thought it was best to confirm whether he wanted to continue their investigation. Once Bill had agreed to them continuing, then they would speak to him alone and ask him questions. However, he looked so torn and caught up in Bev’s grief.
“It’s all right, darlin’，” he was saying. He put his arms around her, and she sobbed into his chest.
“Do you want us to give you a minute?” asked Kate.
“No,” said Bev, composing herself and wiping her eyes. “You’ve come all this way, and you’ve found out more than the police ever did . . . I’d like them to keep looking for Joanna,” she added, looking at Bill. “I don’t want to put my trust in the police again and wait around for them.”
Bill looked serious. He nodded and paused for a moment, thinking. “Okay. Let’s do another month, and this time, if you could keep me up to speed every few days on the phone?”
“We’d be happy to carry on with our investigations,” said Kate, feeling a little zing of happiness that they could continue.
Bill was called away to answer a phone call in his office, and Bev seemed to go off into another world, staring out to sea.
“We’ll get going,” said Kate, indicating to Tristan.
“All right, do you want a sandwich or anything?” asked Bev.
“No. Thank you.”
Bev came back inside with them, and on the way out, Bill poked his head out of his office at the end of the corridor with his hand covering his phone.
“I’ll get your payment sorted and be in touch,” he said, with a wave.
Bev walked with them out to the car.
“Are you okay?” asked Tristan, as she leaned with her hand against the wall to catch her breath.
“Yes, love, too many cigs,” she said. “I like your car. Is it new?”
“Yes, I got it a few months ago,” said Tristan.
“It’s nice. I haven’t driven since my car got nicked, years ago,” said Bev. “I wouldn’t have the confidence. It got nicked the night Jo went missing too . . . Talk about a kick in the gut. I know I’ve moaned about moving here, but I’m glad I don’t have to live on that horrible estate anymore. Have you got a wheel lock?”
“Yes.”
“Good. The police thought that someone jimmied the lock and hot-wired it, got clean away with it. Wheel locks are good, cos the bastards can’t turn the steering wheel without breaking the glass on the windscreen.”
“Did they ever find your car?”
“Gawd, no. The police told me they find less than half of cars. They end up being resprayed and plated and sold on, or they’re burnt out on some wasteland or dumped in the water. I doubt I’d have the confidence now, to drive. Thank you again, for everything. You’ve given me the first rays of hope in years. You’ll keep in touch? The second you have anything new?”