Close Your Eyes by Michael Robotham Read Free Book Online

speaking with a whistling lisp featuring the sibilant s-sound. ‘But before we start I want to introduce some special guests. We have two local councillors, Geoff Fryer and Janelle Spencer. Also I’d like to welcome someone who I’m sure needs no introduction – radio personality Terry Bannerman, who has been a tremendous advocate for our community.’
    There is a smattering of applause.
    ‘Elizabeth and Harper Crowe were part of this town and were much loved. We have some of their family members with us this evening, including Elizabeth’s sister Becca and her husband Francis. Thank you for coming.’ The young couple are sitting in the front row of chairs on either side of a baby capsule with a sleeping infant.
    ‘I also welcome Elizabeth’s son, Elliot, and want to say that our hearts go out to him.’
    She points to a young man dressed in a heavy winter coat, who is leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. He stands upright, raising his chin.
    ‘Two of Harper’s best friends are also here, Sophie and Juliet, along with her boyfriend Blake.’
    The girls look to be about Harper’s age, dressed in frayed denim shorts and sleeveless puffy jackets. They’re sitting on each side of a man in his twenties with wire-framed glasses and wavy hair that he’s tried to tame with too much gel. One of the girls is holding his hand. The other is red-eyed from crying, clutching a ball of soggy tissues in her fist. All three stand up and face the crowd, revealing matching T-shirts with the slogan:
Justice for Harper
.
    Miss Collier continues: ‘Many people in this room knew Elizabeth and Harper – and even if you didn’t I’m sure you are just as shocked and horrified by what happened. It has been twenty-five days since that night. There have been no arrests. This community is in shock. We’re frightened. We invited the Chief Constable of Avon and Somerset Police to address the community tonight, but he had another engagement.’
    There are boos and catcalls. Patricia Collier waits for silence. ‘The Chief Constable has sent along Detective Chief Superintendent Veronica Cray, who is heading the investigation.’
    ‘When are you gonna do your job?’ someone yells.
    ‘Hear, hear,’ echoes another.
    ‘We’re not safe in our own homes,’ shouts someone else.
    DCS Cray has been sitting on stage next to Terry Bannerman and the councillors. She gets to her feet and takes the microphone, waiting for the noise to abate.
    ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I have come here this evening to brief you on the ongoing investigation into the murders of Elizabeth and Harper Crowe. There are forty-four detectives working full-time on this case and every one of them is totally committed to catching the perpetrator of this terrible crime. My task force has so far interviewed more than three hundred people and taken over two hundred statements from family, friends, neighbours, visitors, tradesmen and persons of interest. Detectives have gone door to door in the local area and forensics teams have collected fibres, fingerprints and DNA samples.’
    A man yells from the crowd, ‘How about telling us what you haven’t done – such as arrest anyone!’
    Cray ignores the outburst. ‘I didn’t come here to give you a running commentary on our investigation, but I do want to—’
    ‘Why
did
you come here?’ shouts a faceless man.
    ‘Not one suspect!’ echoes another voice.
    There are more jeers and catcalls. Monk is watching the DCS, waiting for a signal. Cray continues, trying to quell their anger. ‘Too much has already been made public,’ she says. ‘It does not help us when theories are postulated in the media or when suspects are named before we’ve had an opportunity to interview them.’
    ‘What are you doing to protect us?’ someone yells from the back.
    ‘I got three kiddies,’ says another. ‘Their summer holidays begin next week. How am I going to keep them safe?’
    A woman in front of me leans towards her husband,