Campus Killings

by Oliver Davies

  It looked like how I remembered, and there certainly wasn’t any space for cars to be parked outside, so there had to be somewhere else for them. I couldn’t see any underground car park, so there must be garages around somewhere. I jogged further down the run-down street, passing council houses and a lit-up corner shop.

  I spotted it: a group of grey concrete parking garages, built about as cheaply as you could manage. But they were all little, sealed off units and my heart rate sped up thinking about how they could be exactly what Stephen and I had been looking for in terms of a place for Will to take his victims back to. There would be no need to hide the transporting of a person or a body between his car and his flat if he drove straight into the garage and never took the victim out of it.

  I turned in a circle to scan the area, looking for cameras, but this wasn’t the sort of place that had the funding for security like that. I wondered briefly about leaving this to be dealt with in the morning, but there was still the chance that Will really had captured this girl, Lizzie, and I couldn’t take the risk that she was in one of these daggy little garages.

  So I called up Gaskell, who was none too pleased to hear from me at this time, but became business-like when I told him where I was and my suspicions.

  “I’ll send someone out.”

  “Might need forensics, sir,” I told him. “And possibly an ambulance, too.”

  Gaskell paused. “I’m not convinced that Seton really-”

  “No, neither am I, sir,” I said. “If we do need paramedics, I’ll call them out after.”

  Gaskell made a noise of agreement. “A couple of DS’s should be with you soon.”

  He hung up after that. I sent a brief text off to Stephen, so he knew what was going on, but made it clear that he didn’t need to come out. Better that he stay with his family.

  The two detective sergeants Gaskell had promised me turned up quickly and got efficiently to work under my instructions. We contacted Seton’s landlord to find out which garage was his and for the spare keys to open it with.

  The forensics team turned up soon afterwards, and I hoped fiercely that I hadn’t called these guys out here for nothing. Gaskell would have something to say about all the overtime if there was nothing here but dusty junk.

  I stood a little way back as the garage was opened, keeping out of the way. Forensics were keen to keep the area as undisturbed as possible, in case there was any physical evidence to be found, which I fervently hoped there was.

  As the garage door was cracked open, I could picture all too-easily a young woman tied up inside. The relief when it was all opened up, and there was nothing in there, but the car was immense. Of course, I knew it was a possibility that Will could’ve found somewhere else to hide her or had killed her weeks ago and dropped her body in the Ooze, but I thought this had been the most likely hiding place and so finding it empty lifted a weight off my mind.

  I left forensics to crawl over the place and replied to Stephen’s several texts, wanting to know what was happening. I filled him in, and sent another text to Gaskell, too, to keep him updated.

  “Sir!” one of the forensics team called me over. I slipped on some booties and gloves and carefully moved over to stand beside her.

  “Found something?”

  The woman, suited up in white, pointed to the garage wall. My eyes widened, and my stomach dropped, making me feel instantly sick.

  “Jesus.”

  There was a metal loop bolted to the brick, and it looked freshly installed. It stood out from the rest of the small garage because the space around it had been cleared of rubbish. I looked at the floor and gritted my teeth at the dark stain on the concrete.

  “He probably tied them up here,” the forensics woman said quietly.

  I grunted, feeling like ants were crawling over my skin. “Is there anything else?” I asked gruffly.

  She shook her head. “Not yet, but we’ll be thorough.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  I walked back outside, badly needing the fresh air. One of the forensics team must have let Gaskell know about the find because he turned up soon after, dressed in civilian clothes but looking smart, whilst I was still in my sweaty running gear.

  Gaskell came over and gave me a pat on the back, which wasn’t like him. “You’ve done your part,” he said. “Head on home. We’ll update you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  I ran the rest of the way home feeling much lighter than I had when I’d set out.

  The next morning, Stephen demanded a full rundown of the evening.

  “I can’t believe you went running off again on your own, after the last couple of weeks, Darren!” he said, once I’d finished.

  I grimaced. “I figured the risk was low.”

  Stephen shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t learn, you don’t.”

  “What if there had been a student there?” I protested. “Was I just supposed to leave her overnight?”

  “No, you should’ve called me or Gaskell or some other officer to buddy up with you!”

  “What if there’d been nothing though?”

  Stephen sent me an exasperated look. “If there’d been nothing, at least you would’ve been okay. What if one of Seton’s guys had been hanging about and attacked you?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, okay. Point taken.”

  “A false alarm is better than not ringing the alarm at all.”

  “Aye, alright,” I said, giving him a glare. “I got it.”

  He huffed, but reluctantly changed the subject. “Gaskell told me that from the list of addresses on Cal’s phone, this missing student, Lizzie, isn’t on there.”

  I nodded. “It’s pointing towards just being one of Seton’s mind games,” I agreed. “But, playing the devil's advocate, I could argue that he might’ve changed his pattern once he knew we were getting nearer to him.”

  Stephen conceded that with a nod.

  We headed out to visit the pub that the tech team had tracked down as being Seton’s place of employment, less because we thought there’d be anything useful there than to round up any loose ends.

  We got back around lunchtime and treated ourselves to fish and chips from the chippie down the road. I had grease all over my fingers and a mouthful of ketchup and batter when Gaskell came over to our desks. I looked up like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t and hurriedly cleaned my fingers off on one of the chippie’s cheap napkins.

  “Sir?”

  Gaskell looked uncharacteristically happy, with his eyes bright and his mouth tilted into a small smile.

  “The student’s turned up!” he said. My shoulders dropped down, and I grinned.

  “That’s great,” I said warmly, and Stephen patted my shoulder, looking over the moon as well.

  Gaskell nodded. “She went off on a spontaneous trip to Wales with a new boyfriend, apparently.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And she couldn’t have told her flatmates?”

  Gaskell sighed. “Apparently not. Anyway, she’s safe and sound, so we’ll drop the search and focus on getting Seton dealt with.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  “It is.” Gaskell nodded firmly. “And partly due to your determination and thoroughness, Mitchell, Huxley,” he looked between Stephen and me, “that we have a chance of getting Seton to take the fall like he deserves. Good work, both of you.”

  I took it as a sign of me being tired and badly in need of a break that I felt slightly choked up in response to Gaskell’s praise.

  “Thank you, sir,” I said, and Stephen echoed me.

  Gaskell strode off, leaving us to our lunch, and I glanced over at Stephen, who looked chuffed. He sent me a bright grin when he saw me looking.

  “Not too shabby, country boy,” he said warmly.

  I cuffed him on the head. “Thanks a bunch.”

  We had reports to write up, and the results from the forensics sweep of Seton’s garage were still coming back. They looked promising so far.<
br />
  “You heard about the hair they found in the boot?” Stephen said.

  I nodded. “Aye. Thank God. Any evidence they find is going to help. Will’s going to wriggle like a hooked fish trying to get out of this.”

  Stephen took another bite of his food. “Sure he will, but we’ve got a fighting chance, now. And I can’t wait to see his smug face when we nail him in court.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at that. Yes, there was still the trial to go, which would no doubt be long and painful for the families and for us, but if it gave the victims the justice they deserved, it’d be worth it. Cal would be sentenced, too, but it’d be taken into consideration that he’d not been the main player.

  I finished off my fish and chips and swallowed down my coffee. More than anything, I was looking forward to being able to call Abby and Taylor to tell them that they were safe now, and didn’t have to keep looking over their shoulders any more. The university could reopen, and things could return to normal again.

  I scrunched up my chip paper. “Work to do, Huxley.”

  He looked at me fondly. “Always work to do when you’re around.”

  “Aye, true.” I chuckled. There was always more to be done, but hard work had never scared me.

  Epilogue

  My wife had brought in two more pieces of cake, and a cup of coffee for my dry throat, but even that had been polished off by the time I’d finished my story. Liam was typing hurriedly, the keys of his laptop clacking away almost as loudly as an old-fashioned typewriter. I smiled and left him to finish up as I went to get myself another drink, a mug of tea this time, and some lemonade for Liam.

  “Oh, thanks,” he said absently as I left it on the coffee table in front of him. He didn’t touch it, though, too focused on getting all his thoughts down, and he reminded me a little of myself. Getting so wrapped up in something that I forgot what time it was, something my wife still found frustrating, and had certainly irked my partner, Stephen, though he’d started to realise it was just one of my quirks.

  “And what happened then?” Liam said suddenly, his head popping up from behind his laptop like a meerkat.

  “What do you mean?”

  “With the trial?” Liam said eagerly. “Did Will get what he deserved? Did Cal go to prison too? Did you see Taylor again?”

  I chuckled quietly. “Aye, Will got sentenced. Forensics found enough to keep him locked up for a long time. Cal got a short sentence, and, to my knowledge, he got himself back on the straight and narrow. Or at least, I never heard of him about the station again.”

  Liam snapped his fingers. “I could track him down, do a follow-up.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I agreed, before hesitating. “You’ll talk to your dad about it, though?” I didn’t really think that Cal was dangerous, but I also didn’t think it was a good idea for a young boy like Liam to make a habit of running around interviewing ex-criminals without adult supervision.

  Liam made a noise of agreement in his throat, concentrating back on typing again. “Yeah,” he said, when he was done, “my dad always wants to hear what I’m up to. He helps me get interviews and things, with his connections.” Liam grinned, looking proud of his dad, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “That’s good. Connections are important in journalism, and a lot of industries.”

  Liam nodded, fidgeting. He’d been sitting still for most of the afternoon, and now he’d gotten his story, he seemed keen to be off, and I couldn’t blame him.

  “I think I’ll put it in the Halloween issue,” he decided aloud, as he began to pack up his things. “With all the spookiness and everything.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” I agreed.

  “And did you see Taylor again?” he asked, zipping up his rucksack.

  I shook my head. “I think I saw her in passing once, on the street. But no. Sometimes those relationships aren’t meant to last, lad.”

  Liam nodded. “I know. My dad has girlfriends sometimes. He says as long as everyone communicates properly, there’s no problem with not getting married and having kids.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want a brother or sister, anyway.”

  “No?”

  He shook his head. “Sounds annoying to me. Always nicking your stuff and all that baby stuff.”

  I hid a smile. “That’s a valid opinion.”

  Liam pulled his backpack onto his lap and looked at me expectantly. “So I can come back next month for another story, right, Mr Mitchell?”

  I pretended to consider it for a moment while Liam waited, his keenness evident in the way he was almost vibrating.

  “Oh, I can’t see why not,” I said, putting him out of his misery.

  His face split into a grin. “Great,” he said, bouncing to his feet. “I’ll call you. Thanks so much, Mr Mitchell.” He headed out into the hall, and I got up to see him out. “And thanks for the cake, Mrs Mitchell!” Liam yelled up the stairs, making me jump.

  “Going to give me a heart attack, kid.”

  He looked at me sheepishly. “Sorry.”

  I shooed him out the front. “Have a good weekend, Liam. Make sure you include how annoying Stephen is in your story, aye? That’ll wind him right up.” I smiled at the thought of Stephen’s face when he read Liam’s write up, and Liam grinned cheekily.

  “Will do!” he promised, before running right across my front lawn, and jumping the flowerbed at the bottom, rather than walking down the drive like any sensible person.

  “That boy,” my wife said from behind me, putting her hand on my shoulder.

  “Oh, I know,” I agreed. I waved at Liam as he ran off, before closing the front door. “But he keeps us young, at least.”

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