The George Elms Trilogy Box Set

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘What are you talking about now? Are they both in there?’ George looked back over at the bull. The metal was two different shades. The bottom half lighter than the top. But it was changing colour from the bottom up even as he watched, the lighter tone moving upwards like a shadow.

  ‘I know you want the truth. I know you’re desperate for it and you want to understand.’

  ‘Put the shovel down.’

  Roberts threw the shovel onto the sand. ‘I’m not what you think I am,’ he said. ‘In the cabin.’ George looked beyond the smoking bull to where the cabin stood. It was backed against the cliff face.

  ‘Keep your hands where I can see them!’ the officer holding the taser yelled. ‘This device will shock you with 50,000 volts if you do not do what you are told!’ Roberts ignored him. He was still looking over at George.

  ‘In the cabin,’ Henry said again. He stepped towards it himself.

  ‘STAY WHERE YOU ARE!’ the officer with the taser shouted.

  George moved towards the cabin. ‘Take him down!’ he said.

  The taser officer’s eyes glanced from Roberts to George. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Take him down. Do it.’ George kept walking towards the cabin. He heard the taser shot, followed by a fizz and a crackle as it did its work. Roberts didn’t shout out, but he fell onto the sand stiff as a plank. George stumbled to the door of the cabin and hesitated. Roberts was looking up at him. George tugged open the door. It was dim inside. The light from the door lit up a clump of blonde hair. George’s heart sank. He had found their bodies. Roberts had made sure it was him, just as he had predicted. Then there was movement. A girl’s face turned to him, her eyes squinting against the light. She could only make a moaning noise. A rag was pulled tightly across her mouth. George moved quickly. She was trying to get up. He helped her and she bundled past him towards the door. There was more movement further in. A second girl stumbled towards him and he reached for her.

  ‘We need some assistance here!’ George shouted. Both girls burst through the door and back out into the sunlight. One wore a man’s shirt over bare legs, the other was wrapped in a long jacket. They were both sobbing hard. George made it out as they grabbed hold of the uniform officers and held onto them like they would never let them go. It was Annie Cox and Sadie Edwards. They were dirty, bedraggled and sobbing but they still looked enough like the photos George had seen.

  Roberts was still lying on the sand — in handcuffs now, secured behind his back. Two wires still trailed from his back to the taser device of an officer who was standing over him. ‘What’s going on, Henry?’ George demanded. ‘Whose blood do you have on you? Did you hurt them?’

  ‘They used me, Inspector.’ Henry’s body language was different. His voice dripped with emotion. He looked upset, agitated — even a little vulnerable.

  ‘It’s over,’ George said. ‘We have to take you back. And not to a sea view this time.’

  Henry’s head dropped. His long damp hair fell over his face, which was spotted with sand.

  ‘Where’s Liam? Liam Cooney?’

  Roberts jerked his head. George looked towards the water’s edge and took a few steps closer. Behind some jagged rocks he could see someone. He was lying on his front, his face fully submerged. His dark hair was tinged with blood and his hoodie was heavily stained with it. His skull had a clear dent. The waves nudged him gently as they rolled in as if they were trying to sneak him away on the ebbing tide.

  ‘I take it he isn’t going to be answering any of my questions?’

  ‘He’s already answered for what he did.’ Roberts’s voice was low but it still carried the same menace.

  ‘Your turn now then, Henry. You need to answer for your sins.’

  ‘That’s all I ever wanted.’

  Chapter 38

  The car door clunked shut. George was in the back. Henry Roberts sat next to him in handcuffs, his hands resting on his lap. George had needed to move the restraints to the front so he could get in the car at all. Roberts’s head was stooped to fit under the headliner. An officer sat in the front, he was half-turned and writing notes hurriedly. The driver’s seat was still empty. The man set to occupy it was leaning on the driver’s door. George could hear a muffled phone conversation.

  ‘I’m not who you thought I was,’ Roberts said. He was facing away, out of the window.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Monster. That’s what you said when we first met.’

  ‘I wouldn’t promote yourself just yet, Henry.’ George’s attention moved to the front where an officer tapped on the window next to the one in the front seat. He gestured that he wished to speak to him.

  ‘Are you okay for a minute, sir?’ the officer in front said.

  George waved him away. ‘Yeah, of course.’

  The officer stepped out and pushed the door back shut. Roberts was facing out of his window. The silence continued for a few minutes.

  ‘What happened, Henry?’

  ‘The Lord’s work.’

  ‘You’re still trotting that rubbish out, are you? Why didn’t you kill those girls?’

  Roberts turned to George, his head still pushed to an awkward angle in the cramped car. Those dark eyes scanned him. He didn’t answer straight away. ‘The first time I ever killed anyone was today. Liam Cooney is the only person to suffer at my hands. He has only evil in his heart.’

  ‘So Chloe Pope, Ellie Smith, her boyfriend Josh Haines, Lucy Moon . . . what are you telling me? That was all Cooney?’

  ‘And there would have been a lot more. He told me there was nothing left for him in Symonds Yat. He was going to travel. All over. The police would have been starting from scratch. The damage he could have done . . . It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘I suppose I can’t blame you for that. I did a good job convincing everyone I was something else.’

  ‘Something else? They told me that when you were arrested you were wearing their bones. There’s only one sort of person that does that.’

  ‘I was. I did. I wanted to make sure I was convicted. But I had to be sure that Liam believed me too.’

  ‘Why? What did it matter what Liam thought by that point?’

  ‘I knew he wouldn’t stop. He told me that. I made him promise that he would wait until I got out. He respected me. He looked up to me. I hoped it would be enough. I think it was. I spoke to him a lot on the phone. I could tell he was desperate to kill again. He said he was watching someone every day. I think I would have known if he had acted on it. As soon as he killed his mother he told me about it and in some detail. It made me sick. I sent my phone with that text message to my solicitor. They have instructions to present it to the police as soon as it arrives. Liam still has his phone on his person.’

  ‘So you’re helping us now?’

  Roberts fixed him with a look again. ‘I knew from the off that no one would believe me. I know how I look. But actually, I think you do believe me. You don’t look at me the same. When you first came in to see me . . . the way you looked at me . . . it was pure hate. And I played up to that. I had to make sure you hated me. I had to make sure you would be more determined than ever to find me, so that you would come when it mattered. But you don’t look at me like that anymore. I think you know there’s more to the story.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure we’ll be all ears. You’ll have every opportunity to tell us what went on. Be sure to include why you didn’t tell us the first time around — you know, when you had the opportunity not to go to prison.’

  ‘I deserve prison. I always have. I didn’t stop them. I helped them even. I should have done more then. But I’ve stopped them now. Now I get my time to repent my sins, to make my peace. Have you any idea how exhausting it is, trying to be someone you’re not, day after day?’

  George didn’t reply. The adrenaline was wearing off and he was realising his own exhaustion. It was creeping back in. He longed to close his eyes to this day.

 
‘Will it be you?’ Roberts said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The interviews. Like last time, I guess there will be interviews. Will it be you? I don’t want to have to start again.’

  ‘No. I’m done with it. There’s a lot to do before anyone sits down in front of you with a list of questions and I’ll be a long way gone by then.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to anyone else.’

  ‘You don’t have to, Henry. There’s nothing you can say that’s going to make a difference anyway. Talk or don’t, I couldn’t care less.’

  ‘I don’t believe you. You want the truth. Isn’t that what all police detectives want?’

  ‘The truth doesn’t matter, Henry. That’s the real truth and I learnt it a long time ago. All I wanted was you in prison, Henry. I wanted those missing girls back to their families and the two today home safe. Nothing else mattered to me.’

  ‘Just like that. On to the next case.’

  ‘Not for me, Henry. I’m done. I guess that’s all that’s left when you see the real truth.’ George regretted saying it as it fell from his lips. The last thing he wanted was to reveal anything about himself to this man.

  ‘Because of this? Because of me?’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Henry. It’s been a long time coming. I guess I’m tired of seeing people at their worst. I’d rather go home and see the exact opposite.’ George could see movement outside of the car. An officer walked past with a blood-splattered shovel in a clear plastic bag.

  ‘To your family?’

  ‘To a life.’

  ‘It sounds like the right decision. For you, I mean. I wish you all the best, Inspector. Thank you for chasing me down. I tried to make sure you would be determined. I needed you to be on time.’

  ‘On time? You made me wait for over an hour before I could get to you. If you wanted to set those girls free, if you wanted to be arrested why not take Cooney out earlier? You could have done that anywhere. Then walked into a police station with the girls.’

  ‘That place, Inspector. It’s my favourite place on earth. For just a few hours a day it can feel like the only place left on earth. I wanted that for one last time.’ Roberts looked genuine. The intensity was still in his eyes, but his expression was sad; that vulnerability was back again.

  Both front doors pulled open. They made George jump. The driver settled himself and clicked on his belt.

  ‘Sorry about that, sir. You ready?’

  ‘Yeah, we’re ready.’ The engine started.

  ‘This is it, then,’ Roberts said, still staring over at George.

  ‘This is it,’ George said.

  ‘The end of the road. For us both.’

  Chapter 39

  When George finally slid the key in the lock to his own front door he took a moment to compose himself. He was emotionally and physically spent. It had been a long few days. And it had been a long few years since he had needed to shake off his day at the front door to protect his family. His family! It made him smile just to think about it. Suddenly it flashed through his mind that it was too good to be true. That every time something looked like it was going well with Sarah and Charley, something came along and messed it up. Maybe they weren’t in there at all. Maybe Sarah had changed her mind. He had sent a text with a fifteen-minute warning like she had instructed. He didn’t get a reply. Maybe he was going to go into a cold flat where he would find a hurriedly scribbled note of apology on the kitchen bench. He didn’t think he could cope with that.

  He braced himself and pushed the door. The warmth was the first thing that hit him. Then it was the smell. Something was cooking. He stepped through. Charley saw him. She looked like she had been waiting, she was in the corridor on the other side of the door. She was on him in an instant and damned near knocked him over. He couldn’t speak. The emotion hit him harder than his sprinting daughter. He swept her up and hugged her so hard she made a sound like she was struggling to breathe. But she was laughing too. She kissed his cheek. She slid down him a little and hugged him right back. She pushed her head between his neck and shoulder and clung on tight.

  ‘Hey, George!’ It was his wife’s voice. She stood at the kitchen island where the room opened up. George struggled to walk. He had to crook his neck to see past his daughter.

  ‘Alright?’

  All that time. All the practicing on the way home with what he might say to her first and that was all he could manage.

  ‘Why are you barefoot, George?’ Sarah looked amused.

  He had ditched his shoes and socks a little while ago. He had rolled his trousers up a little way at the same time. He was still sodden in general and he knew he smelt funny. ‘I’ve been in the sea,’ he said.

  ‘The sea?’

  ‘Yep. And when I came out I’d lost my shoes, cut my shin and I seem to have a small child suckered to my neck.’

  ‘That’s why I won’t go in the sea. You just never know what’s in there.’ They both laughed. It was genuine and natural.

  ‘You baked?’ George did nothing to hide his surprise. Sarah had never baked before. There was a tray on the bench. It looked like cookies.

  ‘We baked! I got here. I didn’t know what to do. So I panicked and I baked. It seemed logical.’

  ‘How 1950s!’ George grinned.

  ‘I know! So what, you don’t like cookies?’ Sarah said.

  ‘You’re kidding right? My house, my wife, my daughter and a fresh batch of cookies? This is living the dream!’ George’s phone was suddenly shrill in his pocket.

  ‘Sounds like your dream is shattered.’

  George ignored the phone. Charley slid down. She ran to the sofa and jumped on it. She was chattering with excitement. A children’s television station played in the background. George couldn’t stop grinning. It was everything he remembered. His phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket. His phone announced that he had voicemail.

  ‘I just have to play this back,’ he said. He reached for one of the cookies. His wife slapped his hand playfully. His voicemail clicked in. It was John Whittaker:

  ‘George. I got your letter, old boy. Load of old codswallop, I’m afraid. I can’t make head or tail of it, man. Some rubbish about how you’ve lost your mojo, how you fancy yourself back in the normal world. Let me tell you, George, the normal world doesn’t exist for people like you and me. Because we’ve seen it for what it really is. Our job is to keep it normal for the rest of them. So they don’t have to see what’s left of a young woman when you roast her in a box. You’ve a big heart, George. I know you take it all in, I know it weighs you down sometimes. It gets to us all. But this is what you are. This is what you do. The world is better because you’re in it, chasing the bastards that would ruin it for everyone else. Now. I will see you Monday morning, my friend. We have a coffee machine to find and a piece of paper to shred.’

  The phone announced, end of messages. George hung up. He threw the phone on the bench. His wife was watching him closely.

  ‘John Whittaker,’ George explained.

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘That he’s got my letter. And that he understands.’

  Sarah reached out for his hand. She held it tight. George could feel the warmth. ‘You meant it then? You don’t have to do this. Not for us. I’ve moved past it. We managed to be a family before, we can do it again.’

  ‘I’m not doing it for you. Not just for you. This is for me, Sarah.’

  Sarah stepped in for a hug. He heard Charley jump off the sofa and run over. He felt her wrap herself round his legs. He never wanted it to end.

  Chapter 40

  ‘You sure you’re ready for this?’ Emma said. George looked over to the subject of her question. Dennis Coleman gripped tightly onto his coffee cup. His face looked a little washed out, his eyes were fixed. George didn’t know if it was determination or fear. He guessed it was a little of both. Even under this much stress, he still looked better than he had the week before, when George had seen him last. Maybe
it was just the shirt and tie.

  ‘Let’s go.’ Dennis pushed the car door open at the same time as Emma. He was in the front passenger seat of the car and Emma had been driving. George pushed the rear door open and stood behind Dennis. Emma met his eyes across the car roof. Dennis was already walking towards Chloe Pope’s family home. Emma looked worried.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ George muttered. They both lagged behind. Dennis was already at the door. He didn’t get a chance to knock before it was opened for him. Mary and Colin Pope stood together. Colin had his arm round his wife, his grip so tight their shoulders were bunched together.

  ‘Dennis!’ Mary looked exhausted. She freed herself from her husband’s grip and reached out for him. She hugged him firmly. Colin gave a tight-lipped smile. The tension was tangible.

  ‘You’d better come in.’

  The Popes stepped back into their home. Dennis lingered on the step. He took a deep breath and looked back to Emma. Then he stepped in. Emma stepped in next and George followed. The Popes were already seated in their living room. They sat on the edge of their sofa, their hands tightly entwined.

  ‘Thank you all for coming up here today,’ Mary said. ‘We both appreciate it.’ George noticed that she held something in her free hand. It was a well-worn photo. He could only see flashes of a young, blonde woman smiling out from its cracked surface, facing up towards her mother. ‘I know you have news. Have you found her? Have you found our little girl?’ Her eyes dropped to the photo. Her other hand lifted, still gripped in her husband’s as if they were praying together.

  ‘Yes,’ Dennis said. The couple collapsed. The stiffness and the tension left them all at once. They both flopped forward. Tears followed quickly from both. They embraced each other in a tight hug. Neither could speak. After a minute or so George stood up.

  ‘Does anyone mind if I put the kettle on?’ Mary looked over. She shook her head. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any cheap and nasty biscuits do you, Mary?’

  Mary snorted a laugh. Her face was a big smile. George didn’t think he had ever seen one bigger. ‘See what you can find!’ she managed. Her husband wrapped her back up in his arms. Dennis wiped at his face too. It was the right time for George to leave the room. He was only a bit part in all this. The pain that he was witnessing dissolve just a little bit in front of him had been building up for nearly three years. He was filling the kettle when Emma joined him in the kitchen. Her eyes were red too. They looked heavy with emotion.