works now, and yes we’re on first-name terms with most of the Nicholls family. Not to mention Mason Balinta.’
Holly flashed her a sharp glance, but she smiled. ‘I’m being honest with you. We know we aren’t welcome on Seaview and never have been, but that doesn’t mean we have to let people like the Nicholls family run wild. Returning to that night – you eventually went to meet Jayden to give him the money?’
‘Yes. I was half an hour early. The bus stop was right next to the estate he was living on. It was so close, only in Panfield, that I felt like he had been laughing at us all along. Christ, we’d all looked for him, and he’d been holed up in that rabbit warren only a stone’s throw from us. I found the right block of flats, and went up to the eighth floor. The door to 101 was open, just a bit …’ She was lost in the past, walking through that door into the hell that lay beyond. Her heart sped up, and she clung to the side of the chair, hearing her own voice from miles away …
She was used to replaying these memories. But this time there was a difference. She couldn’t stop thinking about the boy. Why had nobody picked up that there had been another kid? There had only been one cot in the flat, surely.
‘Jayden?’ She stepped nervously through the door, glancing from left to right, phone out in one hand, the cash safely stashed in her pocket. She’d been freaked walking around here with a wad of banknotes, but she’d made it.
The sour smell hit the back of her throat, and she fumbled for a light switch in the narrow hallway, hand shaking. The flat was tiny, just a big room with a kitchen area at one end. Two mattresses were laid next to each other on the threadbare carpet, and sprawled across both, on her front, arms outstretched, was a woman.
The blood was soaking into the carpet, splashed across the wall in a horror-film arc, and smeared on the side of the kitchen units. The place was torn apart, with paper, magazines, clothes and toys strewn around the body.
‘Jayden?’ It was a whisper. There were two doorways leading off the main room, and Holly instinctively stepped back towards the front door, looking over her shoulder, terrified that the attacker was still here, waiting, watching her. But her voice echoed around the flat, and after a while she plucked up the courage to walk towards the second doorway. A tiny bathroom, and beyond, a small bedroom with peeling wallpaper. In the corner stood a cot piled high with blankets. Jayden had a baby? A girlfriend?
The place was empty now. Whoever had done this had gone, and she could hardly leave without doing anything. Shoving away the thought of an intruder jumping her from behind, she knelt next to the woman. Her first thought was that she was dead, but her skin was warm. She had no obvious wounds, which was puzzling given the amount of blood in the flat. Her dark hair spread across the floor and her head, turned sideways, showed her eyes were shut. Around her neck, also caught in the material, she wore a gold-coloured necklace, letters twisted around a chain, which formed the name Larissa.
There was no sign of breathing, and in the silence of the flat Holly could hear nothing but her own gasping breath, feel nothing but terror in her own drumming heartbeat. She fumbled to press the right buttons on her phone.
‘Do you want a glass of water?’
She could hear someone running a tap, an arm around her shoulders, but she was still miles away, years away, crouched alone in the flat with a dead woman. It wasn’t until the emergency services arrived that the other body had been discovered. A three-month-old baby girl had been suffocated where she lay, and hidden under the pile of blankets. At last she sat up, blinking away tears. ‘Sorry. I tried not to think about it and I’ve managed to shut it all away. But now …’
‘It’s all right, you’re doing well. I’m sorry to have to ask and upset you, but this could be really important.’ DC Marriot leant across the kitchen table again. ‘Can you manage to finish for us, do you think?’
Holly took a gulp of water and nodded. The shame flooded her, as she had known it would. But she had admitted all this in court, there was no point in denying it now. ‘The ambulance call handler told me to start CPR, and I … I told her I was doing compressions, but I wasn’t. I just froze, and I couldn’t bring myself to press down on her chest. I just stared at her all that time …’
‘I read the coroner’s report, Holly, and you must know what it said. Larissa died of strangulation. Going by the estimated time of death, by the time you arrived there was probably nothing anyone could have done. She was dead already,’ DS Harlow told her.
‘I know …’ But there might have been a chance, a chance she could have saved her, and nothing anybody said – then or now – could convince her otherwise. Holly bit her lip, and continued slowly, ‘I was terrified they would find Jayden outside somewhere, dead too, but later the police said he was a suspect. There was so much blood, I was sure it had to be at least partly his. There was never anything mentioned about another child, though. There wasn’t!’
‘No, we reviewed the files, and it appears that Larissa was never officially registered at any doctor’s surgery or hospital, and her child, or children, weren’t either. In fact, legally her baby didn’t exist. I’ve double-checked, and it looks like – if I had to hypothesise – perhaps if they had another child, they slept on the sofa-bed? It does seem odd that there was no evidence at all of a boy.’
‘They would have been so near in age that perhaps any baby clothes, supplies and toys would have been assumed to be the dead girl’s.’ DS Harlow shrugged. ‘If this boy was living there with his parents and sister there was nothing obvious to suggest his existence. In fact, the few possessions they owned were already packed up, as though a move was imminent.’
The other woman nodded. ‘It was assumed that once he had the money, your brother and his family were going to run. But after Larissa’s murder, Jayden never got back in contact at all? Not even to collect the money you were bringing him?’ DC Marriot was tapping the table idly with one hand now. Her fingernails were short and colourless.
‘No. The money he took from Lydia wasn’t in the flat, and his bank account hadn’t been used for months.’ Holly looked directly at both police officers. Her voice flat, she said, ‘The investigation was pure hell for my family, with police interviews and then dealers from the Seaview being arrested. The other families blamed us for bringing police onto the estate; my dad had a fight with DI Harper …’
There was a glimmer of amusement, quickly hidden, in DC Marriot’s glacial eyes, and even Holly, torn between emotions and fighting hysteria, felt her lips quirk.
Steph continued, ‘But the evidence showed the blood in the flat belonged to Alexi and Roman Balinta, the men who eventually confessed to killing Larissa and her baby girl. There was no sign that Jayden had harmed either his baby or his girlfriend. Yet both men denied seeing your brother. It was Larissa who attacked both men with a knife, obviously defending her children.’
Holly nodded, fiddling with her phone. ‘Yes. I still remember how in court they said Larissa fought back.’ Her voice shook precariously but she carried on, ‘But Jayden was gone again, and then just before Christmas, the police came round to say that some random dealer, a real small-time player, had confessed to helping get rid of Jayden’s body. He said he dumped it off Rydden Bay soon after Larissa was murdered, and that he did it on Roman’s instructions.’
Holly choked
