Broken Girls

by Joy Kluver

Genres: Police Procedurals

Synopsis

Brambles catch her dress, scratch her legs. She has no option but to go barefoot if she’s going to outrun her hunter. They’d been laughing a few minutes before, but things can change in the blink of an eye. Then he’s on her, and the world goes dark.

The woman is young, judging by the short red dress, and dark-haired. Any other signs of her identity have been erased during her long wait to be found, but it’s clear she has been strangled: this was a vicious and personal murder.

D.I. Bernadette Noel knows that every second counts if they are to catch this killer, but they have no leads – until the discovery that the dead woman’s rings match a stolen property report, and the rings’ owner mentions a missing Italian au pair.

Then a shocking discovery about their victim – and the news that another girl, also young and dark-haired, has been abducted – changes everything the team thought they knew about the case.

Piecing together witness statements, Bernie notices key similarities between the description of the person last seen with their murder victim, and someone the missing girl was messaging online. She is convinced they’re looking at the same perpetrator – and if that’s the case, Bernie’s job is no longer just to catch a killer: it’s to save a life.

With few options left, and time running out, she makes a desperate plan. She’ll risk everything on one shot to force their suspect’s hand and push him into making a mistake. But traps need bait – and if her plan fails, a third girl could die…

A gripping crime thriller with a nail-biting climax. If you like Angela Marsons, Susie Steiner or D.S. Butler, you’ll love Joy Kluver.

Readers can’t get enough of Joy Kluver:

‘Wow!! Just wow!!… This book is brilliant! More than brilliant, amazing!!!… Absolutely gripping, addictive and captivating… I was absolutely hooked from the first page to the last. I had a complete shock at the twists… Love, love, loved all the characters!!!… I would love to see this made into a movie.’ Bookworm86 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘Twisted, intense and heartbreaking… Once you start this book you just can’t put it down! Out of all the books that I have read this year none of them shocked me as much. There was one twist that I literally was yelling and screaming at the character!!!’ Heidi Lynn’s Book Reviews ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘I am blown away by this book, the twists and turns are mind-boggling!… BRILLIANT… If I could I would give it more than 5 stars. Excellent.’ Goodreads reviewer ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

‘I was engrossed from start to finish; such a well-crafted, thrilling and moving debut surely marks Joy Kluver as an author to watch…

Release date: July 27, 2021

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 350

Sample

‘I’d say she’s been out here for about five or six days at least, judging by the state of her. She’s coming out of the bloating stage now,’ said Dr Nick White. ‘But I’m sure your entomologist over at the forensic lab will be able to tell you more when she examines the maggots.’ He held up a clear pot. ‘I’ve got some ready to go to the lab. Would you like a closer look at the body, Detective Inspector Noel?’

DI Bernie Noel turned her head slowly towards the corpse, willing her stomach to settle. This was the part of the job she hated the most. She could cope with skeletonised remains but not decomposing ones. The sickly sweet smell would stay with her now for the rest of the day. She wasn’t looking forward to the post-mortem, especially as the pathologist liked to make her squirm.

She raised her eyes to look at the dead woman a few yards away. Hidden by the red and orange leaves that had fallen around her. Long dark hair. Her face disfigured, especially around the lips, leaving her with a permanent, gruesome grin. Gold hoop earrings clinging to her chewed ears. A short red dress, smudged with dirt and split. Scratches and cuts on her bare, dirty feet. Red stilettos had been recovered further away. A couple of rings were hanging on slender fingers.

‘Any ID on her?’

‘No, nothing that I’ve found so far.’

Bloating, insect activity and other scavengers had disfigured her face so facial identification would be difficult and, more importantly, distressing for the identifier. DNA or dental records would be their best chance for a match to any missing women.

Bernie nodded towards the pot. ‘I think the entomologist will want to come out and collect her own samples. There might be some things she needs in particular.’

White paused. He wasn’t known for admitting when he was out of his depth. ‘Of course.’

Bernie saw, rather than heard, the pathologist huff; his shoulders going up and down. She steeled herself to look more at the body but the billowing feeling in her stomach warned her against it.

‘I’m going to send Matt to take down details. And I’m sure the photographer has taken lots of stills.’

‘Detective Inspector Noel, if you’re going to make DCI one day, you have got to be made of sterner stuff. Now, look at this young woman. You need to get angry on her behalf so that you can find the person responsible for doing this and get justice.’

Bernie narrowed her eyes. ‘So definitely murder then?’

‘Yes. Unless she strangled herself.’ He pointed to her neck. ‘Her hyoid bone is broken. I can feel it.’

Bernie looked one more time and instead of seeing a corpse, she tried to imagine a young, vibrant woman in a red dress, out enjoying herself. There had been no reports of missing women in the last few days yet she had lain here almost a week.

How has no one missed you? The anger Nick White had spoken of was beginning to build. I’ll find who did this to you, I promise.

Vomit burned Bernie’s throat as she retched by her car. That was breakfast gone. She’d managed to hold on until she was away from the scene as she didn’t want any disapproving looks from White. Opening the driver’s door, she pulled out an almost empty bottle of water and took a swig, swirling it around her mouth and then spitting it out. Leaning against the car, Bernie looked up. Clouds skittered across the autumn sky, being chased by a westerly wind. She could smell the dampness in the air – rain was on the way. It would be a relief after the recent but surprising autumnal warmth. The white tent was hastily being erected. For some reason the pathologist preferred to do his initial examination in the open air; maybe he was more sensitive to the smell than he liked to admit.

Bernie closed her eyes but swiftly opened them again. The victim was still there, imprinted on her retinas. She wondered how the young woman had ended up in the woods, close to the railway. She was fairly certain she was young, judging by the dress she wore. Had the murder happened there? Possibly. Soil samples would help with that. If she had been dumped, why had there been no real attempt at burial? Just covered with leaves and some of those had probably fallen directly onto her from the tree canopy above. There was no proper road nearby, only a track that led to a farm. The farmer’s teenage son was still in shock after discovering the body. DC Matt Taylor was interviewing him. With Matt being only twenty-five, she thought the boy would open up to him more. Her right-hand woman, DS Kerry Allen, had contacted the forensic experts and was starting to trawl through Missing Persons’ records. All Bernie needed to know now was who the senior investigating officer would be and whether she would be given free rein to run the case, since Detective Chief Superintendent Hugh Wilson was at home recovering from a hernia operation and would not be back for a couple of weeks.

A car rumbled along the bumpy farm track. She looked up. The Forensics vans and four-by-four vehicles had coped fine but the sleek, shiny cars of MCIT had struggled. It was the latter now heading towards her. She groaned inwardly as she glimpsed the man in the passenger seat – DCI Patrick Worth, or DCI Worthless, as he was more commonly known amongst the rank and file. Pedantic and pernickety were the two words that came to mind when Bernie thought about him. Even if he let her run the case, she would be bound by his rules. Was it worth the effort? But it was too late now. Bernie had seen the body and Dr Nick White was right – she had to get justice.

‘Ah, Detective Inspector Noel. First on the scene. Shall we walk and talk?’

Bernie nodded. Her stomach was churning and the last place she wanted to go was back to the body. But there was no choice.

‘So what do we have?’ asked DCI Worth.

Bernie gave him a sideways glance as they walked across the field. She looked at his weasel-like face, with a thin pencil moustache that was probably quite dapper in the 1950s but looked ludicrous in the twenty-first century. His views on women came from the fifties as well. He was close to retirement but was showing no sign of slowing down. She had to make a good impression if she was going to keep the case.

‘Body is of a female, possibly young. She’s decomposed quite quickly so facial recognition will be difficult. In fact, finding any distinguishing marks isn’t going to be easy. But there is some jewellery – earrings and rings. Soil samples and entomology are going to be crucial with determining whether she was killed here or not and when.’

Despite being shorter than her, Worth’s stride was long. Bernie made sure she matched it.

‘I’m sure Nick White has already dealt with that.’

Bernie swallowed. ‘It’s better if they take their own samples. DS Allen’s already rung them.’

DCI Worth suddenly stopped and gave Bernie a sharp stare. ‘This is a murder scene, not a freak sideshow where anyone is invited. Detective Chief Superintendent Wilson may be foolhardy enough to let you loose on a murder case but I’m the senior investigating officer here and if you want to be my deputy, then you play by my rules. Understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Bernie attempted to keep her voice as normal as possible while she seethed inside. ‘Why don’t we see the victim, sir, and then you can make the decision?’

Worth smiled, showing nicotine-stained teeth. ‘Good, that’s better. We’ll make a fine officer of you yet. Now, are we nearly there?’

‘Yes, sir, the outer perimeter cordon is just past those trees. We can suit up there.’

Bernie allowed the DCI to go ahead of her. She was tempted to say, ‘I’m already a damn fine officer, thank you very much’ but held back. She’d already riled Worth. She wasn’t about to push her luck.

Bernie had been right about the enclosed tent intensifying the smell of the corpse. The stench was overpowering as she lifted the flap to let DCI Worth through.

‘Nick, good to see you. What have we got here then?’ asked Worth.

‘Good to see you too, Patrick. I would shake hands but, you know.’ Dr White lifted a stained, gloved hand. ‘Victim is female, I would say young but I’ll need to confirm that. My first thought is strangulation as her hyoid bone is broken. I can feel it but will confirm once I’ve opened her up.’

Bernie was glad White had made her look at the body earlier. Her stomach wasn’t somersaulting as much the second time around.

‘We’re past the time frame for normal indicators for time of death such as rigor mortis so we’ll need the story from these little fellas.’ The pathologist pointed at the maggots. ‘What time is your entomologist turning up, DI Noel?’

‘Do you think that’s strictly necessary, Nick?’ Worth asked.

White’s eyes flickered towards Bernie. Was it sympathy she saw in them?

‘To be fair, Patrick, the entomological evidence is going to be crucial here. Not just for time of death but also to determine if she was killed here. Same with soil samples. Much better to have experts in court that came out to the scene.’

‘Hmm. Well, you must have what you need, Nick. In the meantime, we have to think about how this poor woman got herself into this predicament.’

Bernie could feel her blood boiling. This poor woman hasn’t done anything to get herself like this.

‘Underwear?’ Worth added.

‘Intact, at first look. But I will check for sexual assault when I get her back to the morgue.’

‘And the attacker? Any ideas?’

‘Judging by the break of the bone, I’d say this was a man. The hyoid has literally snapped. That takes a lot of strength through the hands and arms. Not impossible for a woman, though, if she’s using a ligature.’

‘Hmm, I see. Well then, DI Noel, I think we’d better get back to the station and rally the troops. I’m sure we can leave Dr White and the crime scene investigators to do their jobs. No doubt your entomologist…’

‘Dr Phyl Bridger,’ said Bernie.

‘Oh, is he good?’

‘She is, sir.’

‘Really? When I was a lad, girls used to run away from anything creepy-crawly.’

‘Dr Bridger has her degree and doctorate from Cambridge and now teaches at Bristol University. She’s one of the best in her field and this young woman deserves the best, don’t you think, sir?’

DCI Worth tensed. Bernie knew she was walking a tightrope.

‘DI Noel is right,’ said Dr White. ‘A standard forensic post-mortem isn’t going to be enough here, Patrick. We need these experts to unlock this woman’s story. I can’t do it alone.’

Worth nodded. ‘All right. Let’s go back to the station and rustle up some manpower… oh, and womanpower too, of course.’

Bernie resisted the temptation to roll her eyes.

They were almost back to the cars when DCI Worth said the words Bernie had been waiting to hear.

‘Well, DI Noel, I would like you in future to run major decisions past me first, particularly ones with a financial implication, but I would like you to be my deputy for this investigation. Am I right in thinking you have only one detective sergeant and one detective constable in your team?’

‘Yes, at present. The plan is to recruit some more when DCS Wilson returns to work.’

‘Then we must get in some other officers. A couple more DCs, perhaps, and you’ll be needing a family liaison officer for the relatives – when we find out who she is. I have a chap in mind; he’s very good. In fact, I think you’ve worked with him before. DS Anderson.’

Bernie’s stomach dropped. Oh God, no.

Bernie was aware of the door to the Major Crime Investigation Team briefing room opening and closing. She looked at Kerry who gave a slight nod. Two, maybe three steps and he’d be breathing on her neck. They’d managed to avoid each other the last few months with DS Anderson being seconded to Avon and Somerset Police to help with the large gambling case they’d uncovered in May. She still felt bad about standing him up for lunch and going instead to view her cottage. There had been a moment when she’d been tempted to take things further and break her rule of not dating a colleague but she couldn’t get past what Louise Anderson had said about her ex-husband in a phone call – charming but manipulative. She may have to work with him but she wasn’t going to let him into her personal life.

‘Ma’am.’

His Glaswegian accent had softened slightly since she had last seen him. She turned round, fixing a smile on her face.

‘DS Anderson. It’s good to have you back.’

‘Is it?’ He raised one eyebrow.

‘As part of the team, yes.’ She worked hard to keep her face as neutral as possible. ‘DCI Worth is just about to start the briefing. Please take a seat.’

The chairs were arranged in orderly rows as opposed to their normal haphazard arrangement. The DCI stamping his authority on furniture as well as the team.

Worth cleared his throat before speaking. ‘Right, ladies and gentlemen, let’s get started. Firstly, a few introductions. My name is DCI Patrick Worth. I’m sure you’ve heard of me before. I have a reputation for running a tight ship.’

Oh dear God. A man who believes his own hype. Bernie heard a laugh being stifled by a cough. It was her sergeant, Kerry Allen, but she didn’t dare look in case she started laughing too.

Worth paused before continuing. ‘I’ve drafted in a few others to help. DC Alice Hart and DC Mick Parris have worked with me before and you already know DS Dougal Anderson, our family liaison officer, who’ll be working on the main investigation until we find the victim’s relatives and he transfers to them.

‘And so to our victim. Female, white, not sure of age yet but believed to be in the fifteen to twenty-nine age range. Red dress. Underwear intact. Red shoes a short distance away from the body. Earrings and a couple of rings. But no bag, no ID. And unfortunately, no clear face left to identify.’

Without warning, Worth tapped a key on a laptop and a photograph of the decomposed woman’s head appeared on screen. Bernie heard a sharp intake of breath. She looked at DC Alice Hart, with her mousy hair and delicate features. She had turned pale and had her hand over her mouth.

‘Might be best to move on to the next image, sir.’ Bernie jerked her head in Hart’s direction.

‘Yes, of course.’

Bernie winced as she saw the bloated torso with maggots everywhere. She got up and held the door open for Alice as she went flying out of the room.

Worth tutted. ‘Does anyone else need to leave?’ He paused for a few seconds, waiting for any answers. ‘Good, then we’ll continue. Until we hear back from our forensic experts, which, fortunately, DI Noel has already started to sort out…’

Bernie knew he wasn’t praising her.

‘…we won’t be any closer to identity. I believe DS Allen has been looking at missing persons?’

Kerry stood up. She stared at DCI Worth and the photo behind him on the screen, unfazed by both. ‘Yes, sir. I have five possible leads at the moment but I’ll wait for the post-mortem report before I do any more. Although the jewellery may help.’

‘Thank you, DS Allen. Dr White has suggested she may have been outside for perhaps five or six days but, of course, that doesn’t mean she died at that time. She may have been held somewhere else and killed there before being dumped. She may have been in a freezer for the last six months for all we know.’

Not if those dirty feet are anything to go by.

‘Obviously,’ Worth continued, ‘we can’t get an image out in the media of her but a vague description and a picture of the dress would be a start. We’ll get DC Hart to look at that when she gets back – find out where the dress is from and look for an online picture of it we can use. Same with the shoes. If you could jot that down, please, DI Noel.’

Bernie held in a sigh; she hadn’t realised Deputy SIO was a secretarial position.

‘In fact, I was hoping Jane Clackett would be here for this meeting. I did ask her to come along. Media coverage is going to be crucial to this investigation.’

‘I’m sure we can pass on all the relevant details to her,’ said Bernie, wondering if Jane from the press office had deliberately not turned up. Although not the best of friends, they were united over their dislike of DCI Worth.

Worth scowled. ‘Even so, if I ask someone to a meeting, I expect—’

There was a knock at the door and a thin woman dressed completely in black, with a sleek black bob and bright red lips came into the room.

‘I’m sorry I’m late, DCI Worth,’ said Jane Clackett.

‘Have you come straight from a funeral? Is that why you’re late?’ asked Worth.

Jane’s eyes narrowed as she took the seat next to Anderson ‘I’m late because I’ve been dealing with the press about a tip-off for a dumped body. Apparently the boy who found her wasn’t as completely traumatised as you may have all thought because he was perfectly capable of tweeting the local rag. So, again, I’m sorry I’m late but I’ve been doing my job, sir.’

Bernie covered her mouth to hide her smile. Only Jane would be brave enough to take on Worth.

‘I was just explaining, Jane, that media coverage is going to be crucial in helping us.’

‘But of course, DCI Worth. And I’m already on to it. I’ve told Clive Bishop over at the Salisbury Journal he’ll be the first to know details when we’re ready to release them.’ She gave him a winning smile and then turned it round to Anderson.

‘And it’s lovely to see you back, Dougie. We’ve missed you.’ Jane crossed her black-clad legs slowly. A few months ago that would have annoyed the hell out of Bernie but now she felt they were welcome to each other. Both schemers and manipulators – they were the perfect match.

Bernie wanted to laugh as she saw Anderson shift uncomfortably in his chair. She also sensed Worth’s impatience.

‘We need to get a move on now. We don’t have time to waste. DCs Taylor and Parris. I want you to check out CCTV. Look at stations on that line. Had she been on a train and then followed and dragged into that wooded area? Maybe she accepted a lift? Had she been to any bars and clubs? Today’s Thursday so look back to the weekend and Thursday and Friday of last week as well.

‘DS Allen, use the jewellery to narrow your search on Missing Persons but let’s also be aware this woman may not have been reported missing yet. Maybe her friends and family think she’s away. So, Jane, as soon as we know more about the clothing, I want you to release that info. I’m going to stay here and coordinate things until it’s time for the post-mortem. Nick White is planning on doing that later today. He’ll text me the time.’

‘Sir? What about me?’ asked Bernie.

‘Yes, me too,’ said Anderson.

‘Well, you two can go and have a little friendly chat with the teenager who found her and remind him why we don’t like the press being tipped off.’

Anderson headed towards his car.

‘No. We’ll take mine,’ she said. ‘You don’t know where you’re going.’

He paused, gripping his car keys in his hand. He turned round slowly.

‘I believe there’s a little something called satnav. I wasn’t sure how good your wrist is these days, since we haven’t spoken for a while.’

Bernie hated Worth for pairing them together.

‘It’s fine,’ she lied. Her wrist had been smashed with a hammer by a suspect five months before. She still got the occasional twinge, something that should pass if she did her physio exercises – as if she had the time. ‘Besides, satnav is a bit hit and miss round here. Makes more sense for me to drive.’

Anderson continued the stand-off. He hated backing down.

‘Detective Sergeant Anderson, we really do need to get going.’ She pressed the key fob and the doors clicked open. She sat in the front seat and waited. She looked in her rear mirror as he walked slowly towards her car. Despite herself, her body still lurched when he opened the door and got in. The attraction hadn’t faded completely. She closed her eyes for a few seconds.

‘Ready to go, ma’am?’

Bernie opened her eyes and nodded. She started the engine and then pressed the button to wind down the window. She needed the air.

They drove in silence. Bernie expected Anderson to quiz her about the case and the scene but, instead, he stared out of the window. He was probably memorizing the journey so he would be able to come back without her. They drove underneath the railway line that ran close to the scene.

‘Not far now,’ she said after they’d been driving for twenty minutes. ‘The problem is getting round all these fields.’

‘Does the farm we’re going to belong to Ron Willis?’

‘No, Ron’s farm is north of the railway. We’re south of it here. It’s a small farm with pigs. That’s all I know. Matt dealt with the family.’

‘Clearly not well enough if number one witness went and blabbed to the press. Bloody kids these days – living their lives on social media.’

Bernie laughed. ‘Careful, you sound like a grumpy old man.’

‘Not really. I prefer living in the real world, not the virtual one.’

Bernie thought back to the social media search she had done on Louise Anderson. She’d found her on Facebook. There wasn’t a single reference or photo of her husband until the divorce came through. And even then she didn’t mention him by name. ‘It’s done,’ she had written, ‘I never have to see him again.’ Bernie thought maybe it was less about living in the real world for Anderson and more about not wanting to leave damning evidence behind.

She flicked the indicator switch and then turned right down a small track.

‘This is the Moffatts’ farm. Craig is the son. He’s fifteen. From what Matt told me, he’d been walking the dog when he found her.’

‘If she’s been there for several days, why didn’t he find her before?’ asked Anderson.

‘He’s been ill for over a week. A bad stomach upset. First time this morning he felt well enough to go out. I guess this will set him back a bit.’ She looked across at Anderson as they pulled up outside the red brick farmhouse. ‘Please let me handle this. I know what you’re like.’

Anderson feigned surprise. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh yes, you do. You’re too abrupt at times. You can take notes.’

A dog barked as they approached the door – a large German Shepherd chained to a post on a long lead. An odour of manure and pigs lingered in the air and Bernie heard grunting from a few yards away.

‘I want to see the scene after this,’ said Anderson.

Bernie looked down at his designer suit and shoes and smirked.

‘Just as well the rain was light earlier. We have to trek across a field first before heading into the woods.’

She knocked at the blue front door, paint peeling to reveal red underneath. A tired-looking woman in scruffy clothes opened it. Bernie showed her warrant card.

‘Mrs Moffatt? I’m Detective Inspector Noel and this is Detective Sergeant Anderson. I know you saw one of my colleagues earlier but we need to ask Craig a few more questions. May we come in, please? We’ll need either you or your husband to be with him.’

The woman sighed. ‘I suppose so. John’s feeding the pigs so I’ll do it. But Craig’s still in shock. I think he’s going to need counselling.’

The woman led them into a darkened lounge where a teenage boy lay on a brown leather sofa, a blanket up to his chin.

‘He can’t stop shivering. He was already ill but this has set him back badly,’ said his mother.

Bernie thought of her own reaction after seeing the body. She didn’t think the lad was making it up. But if he was this bad, how did he manage to tweet the newspaper?

They sat on two matching leather chairs, either side of the sofa. Both were cracked and faded. Bernie took the seat nearest the boy’s head.

‘Craig, I’m Detective Inspector Noel but you can call me Bernie, if you prefer. I know you spoke to another officer this morning but we have a few more questions if you can cope. If it gets too much then we’ll stop. Is that OK?’

Bernie saw a slight nod of the head.

‘Right, can you tell me what happened this morning?’

Craig coughed a little. ‘Erm, I’ve been ill but this morning I felt well enough to walk the dog. That’s my job. Normally I’d take him before school but as I wasn’t going in today, I took him a bit later.’

‘So what sort of time?’

‘It was about eight o’clock.’

Bernie saw Anderson writing down notes in his notebook.

The boy coughed again. ‘I usually take him over to the woods. He likes to chase the squirrels up the trees. Anyway, this morning, he was going loopy. He kept running off and then barking. And then he’d come back to me and do it all again. I knew he’d found something, probably a dead animal, but I didn’t think too much about it. I’m still not feeling that strong; I didn’t want to . . .