The George Elms Trilogy Box Set

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘What the hell does it matter?’

  ‘Did you just find out?’

  ‘You people aren’t listening to me! You’ve never listened to me. If you had listened to me at the start, when I first said that Chloe was missing, when I first called it in, maybe—’

  ‘Answer the question, Mr Pope!’ George snapped. ‘There’s a far bigger investigation right now and we don’t have time to be fucking about. Unless you feel you need to be under arrest to answer any of my questions? That can be arranged.’

  ‘Under . . . why are you having a go at—’ His demeanour changed. He was suddenly on the back foot.

  George pressed him. ‘Who told you and when?’

  ‘My wife, she used to go to the church. She heard it there.’

  ‘Used to? That makes no sense. You mean someone from the church came to your house and told her?’

  ‘The church came to her, yeah. The main man. He came up and talked to her. He comes up a lot. So she can still do her bit now that we can’t get her there.’

  ‘Can’t get her there?’

  Colin Pope had now completely backed down. He sighed, shook his head and came back quieter. ‘Agoraphobia. A fear of being out of that place. Ever since . . . well, ever since. She was part of the search. We both were. But it messed her up. It started with a fear of the woods. Then the trees in the garden. A little bit of wind . . . the moving branches — she would just freak out. I had to cut them all down.’ His eyes had lost focus, his head had slumped and his voice was brittle with desperation. ‘You can imagine how someone with a fear of trees might struggle around here. This place is made of trees.’

  George remembered sitting on the tree stump in the Popes’ front garden. ‘So she doesn’t go out at all?’ George’s tone was softer too.

  ‘No. I tried to move her to the city. I thought it might help. She said she wouldn’t go. She said “what happens if our Chloe comes home? If we’re not there, she might run off again.” I know it’s silly. She knows it too. But how could I argue with that? I did used to. I used to tell her what I thought she needed to know. I used to tell her that Chloe was dead, that she was never coming back. But every time I said it out loud it broke her heart. It feels like I’ve loved that woman my whole life. I didn’t want to be breaking her heart no more. So I stopped. She’s not coped. Not at all. And now we hear that you’re moving that . . . that thing. So he’s more comfortable?’

  ‘And John Lawrence told you that?’

  ‘He did. And good for him, or—’

  ‘He’s dying, Colin,’ Emma said.

  Colin Pope stared at Emma intently. ‘Dying? Who?’

  ‘Roberts?’

  ‘Dying how?’

  ‘Cancer, I think. I’ve not really been too well informed about the whole thing. The prison service is dealing with it all. He’s being moved to palliative care. They struck a deal with him. He gets to die in a place that isn’t a prison cell, and in exchange — he tells us where Chloe is.’

  Colin stood up, perhaps too fast. He looked unsteady. George stepped towards him. Colin held out his hand out to stop him.

  ‘And did he? Did he tell you?’

  ‘He did,’ Emma said.

  ‘When?’

  ‘A few days ago.’

  Colin’s tears were sudden, like they had been just behind the surface the whole time. ‘You didn’t tell us?’

  ‘We don’t know what we found yet, Colin. But we did find something. No, we didn’t tell you. That was my decision. I think it was the right one. There are tests we need to do to be sure. You and your wife have been through enough. It would have been another couple of days or so, and then I was going to come up and talk to you both. The last thing I wanted to do was turn up with hope. Just hope. I think you’ve had enough of that. I wanted something definite. I wouldn’t have put it past that piece of shit for this to be another one of his games.’

  Colin’s head was shaking slowly from side to side. The information was sinking in. ‘There wasn’t much then? Left, I mean?’

  Emma took her time. ‘A lot of time has passed, Colin.’

  ‘So there won’t be anything to see? Nothing to see for ourselves? I think Mary . . . I think she’s going to need that.’

  ‘DNA testing will be one hundred percent, Colin. There’ll be no doubt. The circumstances too . . . how we found Chloe, where we found her. There’ll be no doubt at all.’

  ‘Can you tell me? Can you tell me how you found her? Can you tell me how . . . how he . . .’

  ‘We’ll sit down, Colin. With your wife. When I have all the facts. We’ll take as long as you like. I’ll answer every question you can think of. But I think we need to do that when I have all the answers.’

  ‘She died alone and terrified. That’s all I keep thinking about. Is that right? Can you tell me that at least? Was she alone? Somewhere remote like that other girl?’

  Emma did now look over at George. He returned her stare. He kept quiet.

  ‘She wasn’t alone, Colin. That much we know for sure.’

  ‘She wasn’t?’ He bit down on his bottom lip.

  ‘No. The two girls . . . we think we found them together.’

  Colin sucked in air. His head lifted to the sky. ‘That makes me feel better . . . that actually makes me feel a little bit better. She wasn’t on her own! She had someone else there. Someone that wasn’t him . . . someone human.’

  ‘Colin, we need to get back to work. We have a lot to do but I promise you I will come and see you both the second I have something definite — in a day or two.’ Emma started walking purposely towards the station entrance.

  Colin turned to George. He offered his hand. This time the handshake was returned with a lot more vigour. ‘Thank you! Thank you so much for finding her!’

  ‘I’ll take your thanks for the team up here, Colin. I’m just an imposter — but I know they’ll appreciate it.’

  George caught up with Emma where she was waiting for him behind the wall. She was fidgeting and looked angry. ‘I thought I said we should go easy on him?’

  ‘I don’t like letting people walk over me.’

  ‘He’s a victim. We can’t forget that. His life will never be the same again. Him and his wife, they’ve been a pain in the arse to us at times, but they’re victims. They are what we are here for. To protect them.’

  ‘I totally agree. But they don’t get to walk over us, there’s no point in spending our energy placating people who can’t be placated. They want their daughter found and they want the man that did it in chains. We’re not getting any closer to that while we’re taking questions we can’t answer on the steps. I feel for the man. But we don’t appease him answering his questions, we appease him by getting results.’

  Emma lifted a hand to her brow as if she was nursing a headache. ‘This is such a mess, George. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t consider that he wanted to talk to me about Roberts. I thought it was more questions about Chloe. I thought I might be able to give him some positive information for once and that would be that. He caught me out. I couldn’t tell him the whole truth.’

  ‘You’re right, you couldn’t.’

  ‘How did he know about the move? How could he know that?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll put a call into Whittaker and see what they’re telling people down there now. That information shouldn’t be out, but this was always going to be difficult to keep a lid on.’

  ‘I’ll be the one who has to manage it up here though, George.’

  ‘I know that. We’ve got your team meeting this morning. How much do you want to tell them?’

  ‘Everything. I don’t want to hide anything anymore. I’ve kept this from them for long enough.’

  ‘They’ll need to keep it to themselves. For now at least.’

  ‘I’ll tell them that. I trust them. They’ll just want to do what they can. We’ve got a busy day. We’ll get this meeting done first. We can get some of the work delegated out.’ Emma started walking tow
ards the door that would take them in. George lingered behind. She stopped at the door. ‘Are you not coming?’

  ‘I want to go and see DS Coleman first. Then we need to go and speak to the vicar. In that order. Can we consider putting your team meeting back? I know it’s important but I think this could be too.’

  Emma scowled. ‘Dennis? You want to go and see Dennis? I appreciate that he should be spoken to, I was intending on doing it, but not before I’ve spoken to my team’

  ‘I think he can help us, Emma.’

  Emma shook her head vigorously. ‘He was a good man. But he can’t help us anymore. He took it hard. This investigation finished him off, George. Trust me, I tried to help him.’

  ‘No one knows more about Roberts than Dennis. I looked at his notes. They tell the tale of a man obsessed.’

  ‘It all but destroyed him. We turn up at his house now and tell him Roberts is on the loose and we will finish the job.’

  ‘I don’t think so, Emma. I have some questions that only he can answer. I think he was close to really understanding Roberts. We need that.’

  ‘I thought John Lawrence was your key man? That’s who you came all the way up here to see.’

  ‘He is. But there’s no point in speaking to him if I haven’t spoken to DS Coleman first. I only realised that last night.’

  Emma sighed. ‘I don’t like it. You need to handle him sensitively, George. Can you even do that?’

  ‘I don’t know any other way!’ George chuckled.

  ‘I think I just saw that, George. I really don’t know why I was worried.’

  * * *

  The road to Dennis Coleman’s house was well worn and, like everything else, it was cut out of a steep hill. The left bank dropped away at an alarming angle and George could almost touch the bank on the right. The car pitched and bounced as the wheels found places where the tarmac was subsiding. He swore as a high-sided box van appeared at the other end. It looked like a delivery van from a local supermarket. George needed to back up. He couldn’t expect the van to do so. He reversed almost all the way back to the adjoining road before there was space enough for the van to ease past. George wound down his window and the van driver did likewise.

  ‘Did you just deliver to number four, mate?’ George asked. ‘He’s my brother, see. I’ve been trying to call him but he never answers. I was just starting to get worried!’

  ‘Number four, yeah.’ The van driver was cheery. ‘He’s up there alright.’

  ‘Ah! Great! I hope you dropped some teabags. The last time I was up here he didn’t even offer!’

  The delivery driver leant out further and lowered his voice. ‘I dunno about tea, mate, but you’ll be alright for something a bit stronger!’

  ‘Oh right. Well, at least I know why he wasn’t answering his phone then!’

  The driver waved cheerily as he continued past.

  George looked over at Emma. ‘At least we know he’s in.’

  ‘I could have told you he would be in. Him being in isn’t the problem. Him answering the door is the problem, George, and I can promise you he won’t.’

  George edged back up the hill. ‘He’ll talk to me. He did last time.’

  Dennis’s bungalow was just as George remembered it. No car on the drive, no signs of life at all from the outside. Every window covered with closed curtains or blinds. He knocked the door first. Emma stayed back leaning on the car’s open passenger door. George knocked hard and long, and then stepped back. Nothing moved. To one side was a gate in a six-foot tall slatted wood fence. He gave it a rattle but it was locked.

  ‘Dennis!’ George shouted. ‘Dennis! It’s George Elms. We spoke a few days ago. I need your help, Dennis!’ George pushed himself up against the gate. There were gaps in the wood. He could just see through. A small window on the side of the house was open slightly. He lifted his foot and was able to get his toe in enough to get some grip. He pushed up and grabbed hold of the top of the gate with both hands.

  ‘What are you doing, George?’ Emma was walking over to him.

  ‘We need to speak to him. I don’t think we’re knocking on the right door.’ He lifted his other foot higher still. George scaled the gate and dropped down the other side. It was bolted on the inside. He slid back the bolt and the gate swung open.

  Emma stood in the gateway with her arms folded. ‘Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to us, George.’

  ‘Then he needs to tell me. I’m no mind reader, Emma.’

  George walked along the side. The small window was frosted and an extractor fan turned slowly beside it. He guessed it was a downstairs toilet. He walked around to the back. It was similarly all shut up, blinds and curtains all drawn. He knocked on a patio door. Nothing. He knocked again, harder this time and with the bottom of his fist. He called Dennis’s name again. Nothing.

  ‘Come on, George,’ Emma said. ‘We’re wasting our time.’

  He walked back down the side of the house to the open window. ‘Dennis! DENNIS!’ He turned away to cuss. There was a big plant pot in an overgrown flowerbed, almost hidden by weeds. He had to tug it hard from nature’s fingers. He turned it upside down and stood on it. His mouth was now level with the window and he tugged it further open.

  ‘Dennis! It’s George Elms! I wasn’t honest with you when I came to see you a few days ago. I didn’t tell you the real reason I was asking about Roberts. Now I need your help.’ George paused for a reaction. He could see through to an internal door just a couple of metres away that was a few inches ajar. He reckoned his voice would be carrying right through the house. ‘He has two more girls, Dennis! He’s out! He escaped and he has two more! I know you can help us find him, Dennis! This is a chance to make things right! No one knows more about him than you! We need your help! Those girls, they need your help!’

  The pot made a cracking noise under his weight and he dropped slightly. He stepped off and met eyes with Emma.

  ‘We’ve got a lot to do, George. This is a waste of time.’

  He nodded. They walked along the side of the house and back to the car. After he slid into the driver’s seat he glanced back to the house. Dennis Coleman was framed in the front door. ‘Emma!’

  ‘I see him.’

  ‘Let’s go and say hello.’

  Dennis Coleman was barefooted. He wore loose-fitting tracksuit bottoms that hung low under his midriff and a grey hooded top.

  ‘Dennis! Thanks for talking to us,’ George said.

  ‘You’re lying to me again!’ Dennis said. ‘Henry Roberts can’t be out. Category A prisoners don’t get out. Not these days. Not people like that.’

  ‘I know. Listen, you can’t repeat that, it’s still sensitive. And I would be dubious too but it’s a long story, Dennis, and one I’d rather not tell on your doorstep. We need your help.’

  ‘You let him out! You let him out and you come up here to tell me you need my help! Why aren’t you chasing him? Why are you here?’ Dennis’s eyes were watery and a little glazed. George caught the whiff of alcohol and Dennis leant on the doorframe as if he needed the support.

  ‘We are chasing him, Dennis. Of course we are. We don’t know where to start. I thought the best place to start was with the person who knows him better than anybody.’

  Dennis stepped back and the door slammed shut. George hadn’t seen it coming and didn’t have time to wedge in a foot. He hammered on the door again.

  The first response was a rhythmic thumping on the other side of the door, as if Dennis was beating a tattoo with his fist. Then he started shouting. ‘You don’t know! You don’t know anything about him! You won’t find him and you won’t stop him! You don’t know what he is!’

  George stepped up to the door and poked open the letterbox. ‘I know he kills for fun, for the feeling of power! I know he has a type — attractive blonde teenagers! I know he gets off on the fear he brings — and not just to his victims! And I know that he has two girls for a reason, Dennis! I think you know that, too! We found the missing
girls, Dennis! They were both in the belly of the same bull! He made the one who went second watch the whole thing! Can you imagine how scared she was? That’s what he craves — that fear, that terror! It’s why he’s taken another two! He was starving himself, Dennis! He managed to convince people that he was ill so they took their eye off the ball — me included! I’m part of letting this animal back out there, Dennis! I know you were a big part of putting him away. I just need a few minutes! I just need to know a bit of what you know!’

  ‘It’s all in the file! It’s all in the file! It’s all in the file! It’s all in the file!’ The shouts were hysterical — and then the rhythmic thumping started up again followed by sobbing.

  ‘Jesus, George! We need to go. We need to leave him alone.’

  George pushed his mouth back to the letterbox. ‘I have your statements, your official paperwork. But I saw your notebook, too! I saw all the references to the vicar. You don’t like him. You got that feeling in your gut, right? Something doesn’t add up. I got it too, Dennis! I’m going to see him. Right now. I wanted to talk to you before I went!’

  George stepped back. Emma was at his shoulder. Then there was the clack of a bolt. The handle dipped, the door moved in. George took a step forward. Dennis Coleman was in his dimly lit hallway. Blood trickled from a wound just above his right eye. A lump was already forming. His eyes looked red and heavy. George waited for him to speak.

  ‘He’s something,’ Dennis croaked. ‘I don’t know what . . .’ He was out of breath and took a moment to recover himself ‘. . . but he’s certainly something.’

  ‘I agree, Dennis. Can we come in and talk? Five minutes. If nothing else I want to make sure you’re okay before I leave. I know this is hard on you. Emma here, she told me not to come. She’s worried about you, Dennis. We all are.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’m so sorry!’ Dennis gasped out a sob. His head dipped, his face screwed up and he moved quickly away. George took the opportunity to follow him through into the kitchen. Dennis was tearing off a square of kitchen paper from a roll on top of the fridge and using it as a tissue.

  ‘Let me make you a cup of tea, Dennis.’