Knife After Death: A chilling crime thriller

by Irvine, Ian C. P.

  .

  He walked on, catching his breath, looking all around him as he went. The vegetation on the ground was sparser here, mostly bare brown earth that was covered in a mixture of leaves and pine-needles and fir cones which had fallen from the mixture of different types of trees that made up this forest. The trees were spaced further apart, and more light seemed to reach the forest floor.

  The path turned to the right and then dipped down slightly before coming to a small flat area which levelled off at the base of a small cliff, which rose about twenty metres above them.

  A small pool of water shimmered darkly at the base of the cliff, and as Peter approached he could detect a small drop in temperature. It was colder here than in the forest. He recalled the coldness that he had felt within the vision that showed KK digging and burying at the base of the cliff, near the waterfall.

  He was close. Very close.

  At the edge of the pool of water he bent down and immersed his fingers. It was freezing. Looking up, a ten metre waterfall cascaded down from above, the sound echoing off the rock face, which curved slightly on either side to form a small, natural amphitheatre.

  Peter stood up and walked around the edge of the pool, looking at the ground all around him as he went.

  He returned to the centre, and started pacing the area of flat ground that extended on either side of the pool for about ten metres.

  Peter felt slightly disappointed. He could see nothing extraordinary.

  But then again, what on Earth was he expecting? A hand from a dead body sticking out of the ground, with the forefinger pointing back down towards the earth saying "Here I am! Come dig me up!"

  He sat down on a rock, dropped the spade and the torch and took his jacket off, allowing the cold air from the waterfall to cool him down.

  He looked back up at the waterfall. At another time, he was sure that he would find it all incredibly beautiful, but just now, he just stared at it, letting the cascading water mesmerize him.

  The sound of the water came in surges, washing over him, rhythmically. Peter felt suddenly tired. He looked at his watch.

  It was 7.20 p.m.

  That surprised him a little. It had felt like it had taken longer to get here.

  He bent forward, resting his eyes and forehead in the palms of his hands and tugging at the hair at the front of his head.

  What next?

  He closed his eyes, trying to remember and replay the dream in his mind's eye. Now he was here, if he could remember the dream in more detail, perhaps he could pinpoint exactly where the body was buried by looking around at the ground and comparing it with what he saw in the vision?

  He closed his eyes tighter.

  He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyeballs, almost as if trying to squeeze the vision out.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  Still nothing.

  Try as he might, he could not recall the vision.

  He looked around the forest, studying the ground, looking desperately for any clues or inspiration as to where the body could be buried. Anything he might have missed. Something that might spark off a vision: a fallen branch, a tree, a rock...

  His stomach rumbled.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a Mars bar, and started to chew on it. Perhaps he had been mad to even think that he could just walk into a forest and find a body? What on Earth made him think that he would be able to locate it?

  He had been an idiot.

  He finished the Mars bar, stood up, and admitted defeat.

  This had been a stupid idea.

  Chapter Seventy

  .

  .

  The Fox and Hounds

  Knuttsford

  May 4th

  9.00 p.m.

  .

  .

  "Fish and double chips, vinegar and salt. Just like you asked for. And a glass of cold orange juice." Carolina said, smiling as she placed it on the table in front of Peter.

  "...And some bread and butter, on the House!" she added, winking at him jovially.

  Peter's heart skipped a beat.

  He was sitting in the corner of the pub, the same seat he sat in earlier...Peter had always been a man of habit, quick to establish routines.

  On the table in front of him, Peter had spread out several maps of the area, and he was now studying them, trying to find any place names, villages or places of interest that might somehow jump out at him. Anything that might draw his attention or spark a latent memory or vision. Anything...

  Disappointed but not defeated by this afternoon, he was also looking for any other waterfalls: big, small,...anything that could possibly be the waterfall from his dream.

  "Thanks, " Peter smiled back, folding the maps up and putting them away so he could eat.

  "Can I get you anything else?" she asked.

  Peter coughed. Now was as good a time as any..."Yes, possibly. I was wondering, what time do you get off here? Could I possibly ask you to join me for a drink later, or maybe we could go for a walk? It would be nice to have a chance to talk to you..."

  Carolina opened her mouth to say something, smiled, and then closed it again without saying anything. Peter could see that she was thinking.

  "...And you could maybe help me, by telling me something about the area. What else there is to see around here. If there were any other waterfalls, for example?"

  She smiled.

  "Okay. That would be nice. I get off at 10 p.m. tonight, and we could go for a walk, perhaps. But I have to be home by 11 p.m...I've got some things to do." Carolina replied, deciding against mentioning the babysitter."

  "Done. And I can promise I'll get you back in time, and you won't turn into a pumpkin."

  He watched Carolina walk back to the bar.

  His phone rang, and he reached into his jacket and pulled out his mobile. It was Susie.

  "Hi there," he said, looking away from Carolina, and feeling a little guilty, as if he was a little boy who had been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

  "How are you? Everything okay?" Susie asked.

  "Yes. I've left Ironbridge now and I am further south in a village called Knuttsford. I went on a wild goose-chase this afternoon, convinced that I was going to find another body, but no luck. My big hunch turned out to be completely wrong."

  "Keeping plugging away. Don't give up Peter. Just go with whatever you 'feel' is right. So far, your gut-feelings are proving to be incredibly accurate."

  "I know...anyway, so to what do I owe the honour of the call? Is everything okay at your end?"

  There was a slight hesitation.

  "Yes,...actually there's two reasons why I was calling you. Firstly, I wanted to tell you that Sergeant Angus called me this morning. There have been a couple of murders on the Craigmillar Estate..." and Susie went on to bring Peter up to date on the apparent militia actions of the Craigmillar residents.

  "Brilliant," Peter replied. "I hope they kill them all..." he said, then realised what he just said. "Sorry, that was a little harsh, but you know what I mean. If the police can't do anything, then good on them for sorting the situation out for themselves."

  "True, but you can't just let people go around and kill each other. Like it or not, we have to support the police and we must rely on them to uphold the law. Otherwise, it will just turn into anarchy!" Susie argued.

  "I know, sorry. I don't know why I said that." Peter replied. "So, what was the other thing?"

  "...I just wanted to say that I miss you. I've been thinking about you. Maybe I'm just a little bit worried about you. Anyway, that's it. Maybe I shouldn't have said it, but there, I have."

  Peter listened to her speak, taking in the meaning behind the words. He didn't reply immediately, instead he glanced up and looked across at Carolina. She caught his gaze, and smiled back. Peter looked away.

  "Me too, Susie. I was thinking about you a lot last night. Everything is so confusing at the moment. I haven't got the faintest idea of what's
going on in my life just now. I'm just so glad that I've got you to talk to."

  "When are you coming back Peter?"

  "I don't know. I need to play this out wherever it takes me. I need to exorcise this bastard from me, and this is the only way I know how."

  "Absolutely," she replied. Another pause. "Listen, Peter, ...if you need me, or want me to come down and help you, just let me know okay? We're in this together now. You're not alone. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes. And thanks. You're a good friend. I'm lucky to have you."

  Another pause.

  "We'll speak later, okay?" Susie said, breaking the silence.

  "Yes. I'll call you tomorrow."

  .

  --------------------

  .

  The maps that Peter was looking at said nothing to Peter. They were all of places that he had never been to before, and no new place-names or cities or villages jumped out at him, making him feel that he had to learn more, or that perhaps he recognised the name or had been there before.

  It seemed like a wasted exercise.

  Perhaps he would have to look further afield.

  He was just folding the maps back up so that he could return them to Carolina when his phone rang again. The name on the caller display told him immediately that it was Alex.

  "Peter? Hi, it's me...Constable Gibbs. I just wanted to check in with you. To let you know that we got some results back from looking at the rubber matting surrounding the body?"

  "And?"

  "There was blood on the matting just as you said. The same as on the spade. It matches. Just as you suggested."

  Peter sat up straight in his chair, looking away from Carolina at the bar, and staring at the wall in the corner of the pub. "Excellent. I told you there would be..."

  "That you did. Peter, I wanted to ask you another question."

  "Fire away."

  "What blood group are you?"

  "O."

  Silence at the other end of the phone.

  "I was waiting for you to ask that question Alex. And it's a bit of a red-herring actually. Have you got the DNA results back yet?"

  "No."

  "As soon as you do, it'll put me in the clear. I need to work with you Alex, so it's crucial you stop suspecting me."

  "Where are you staying?"

  Peter told him.

  "I've got one more piece of news for you. We've found Valentia. She's a Polish girl. Went missing from Birmingham last year. Her parents reported her missing in Poland last summer. They provided DNA samples, and the system matched them up: it's the same DNA that we got from the blood on the wall in No. 8 and the body in the forest, and it confirms she was the murder victim. At least it gives us another lead to go on and another line of enquiry."

  "What's her surname? And can you tell me what town she came from in Poland?"

  "Not yet. Let me rule you out properly first, and then we'll see about complete cooperation. In the meantime, that's the best I can do. Keep in contact, and let me know where you are. Please."

  "I will."

  A minute later Peter was back on the phone to Susie.

  "You miss me that much you couldn't wait to speak to me, right?" Susie half-joked.

  "There's been a development. They've identified the body of the woman I found. She's Polish. And the moment the policeman told me just now on the phone, something twigged in my mind. It makes perfect sense. KK is Polish too."

  "How do you know?"

  "A couple of things...but also, it just feels right. That gut instinct thing again. Or maybe KK just speaking to me internally and confirming it. How do I know? Fact is I know. And also, a couple of times when I have had the visions, I've also heard words that I couldn't understand. In one of the visions he was talking to the Polish woman, and they were talking the same language together. It was Polish!"

  "....Ah! I've just thought of something else...It also explains your sudden fascination with spicy sausages."

  "Bingo! Exactly."

  .

  They talked for a few minutes longer, and agreed to talk tomorrow again. Now they knew that KK was Polish, they were one step closer to identifying him. It wasn't much closer, but it was something.

  Once again, he was getting 'hotter'.

  .

  --------------------

  .

  As 10 p.m. approached Peter kept checking his watch. He was nervous. After he'd handed back the maps, he'd gone upstairs to the room he was renting, taken a shower, freshened up, and then come back down. He was wearing his favourite shirt, his best jeans, and a little bit of aftershave. He wanted to smell nice for Carolina.

  As he had agreed with her earlier, he went outside and waited in the car park, so as not to make it too obvious to the locals that the new man in town had just got a date with the barmaid!

  When Carolina finally appeared from the back of the pub and walked towards Peter, his heart missed a beat. She was wearing a thin red jacket, and as she approached, Peter noticed that she had reapplied her make-up. She looked lovely. She smiled radiantly as she came up to him, and for a second or two she stood in front of him without speaking. They both looked at each other, Peter fighting an overpowering urge to kiss her.

  "Well...," said Peter, then going silent. This was like being a spotty teenager again on a first date.

  "Shall we walk?" Carolina asked, sensing the embarrassment and breaking the silence.

  "Yes. Why don't you show me the town?" Peter asked, half joking. There was not exactly that much to see.

  It was a mild evening, and they walked closely beside each other, their arms touching as they went. Peter could sense the electricity between them every time they brushed against each other.

  "So, tell me about yourself then? Who are you?" Carolina asked. "But before you do, I just wanted to say something..." Carolina stopped, and walked in front of Peter, lifting a soft, warm hand up and resting it against his chest."I'm finding this really weird. From the moment you walked into the pub today, I must admit that I have been fascinated by you. I don't know why. Maybe you remind me of someone? Or maybe we've met sometime before, and I can't remember. I know you've caught me looking at you a couple of times today whilst you were sitting in the pub, and I'm sorry...I hope I didn't embarrass you."

  "Not at all. It's very flattering, and I think you actually caught me looking at you several times too. And whatever this attraction between us is, it’s incredibly mutual. I've not been so attracted to someone for years. And I also know nothing about you..."

  "You first, though," she said. "Who is Peter?"

  She was standing in front of him, looking up into his eyes.

  They were bright blue. An incredible, brilliant, deep blue.

  Almost without realising it, Peter lifted his right hand, reached out and gently stroked Carolina's right cheek, his forefinger following the contour of her face from her cheek bone down to the chin. When his fingers reached her jaw, he cupped his hand and rested her chin in his palm, the tops of his fingers contouring her face and touching the side of her cheekbone.

  The static between them was incredible.

  He shivered.

  She noticed his body spasm, and asked him "Are you okay?" The sexual tension of the moment instantly evaporated, and the static between them disappeared.

  "Yes, fine," he said. "Let's walk."

  .

  They walked from one end of the town to the other, and then back again. Eventually they came to a small children's play park beside the village school, and they sat down beside each other on the swings, gently swinging back and forward as they spoke.

  Peter told her who he was, about his job, and that he was on holiday, just touring the south. He explained that as a favour for his editor he was also following up a lead for a story which took place around here.

  Carolina replied, telling him about her family, her son, and her job at the Fox and Hounds.

  At some point Peter felt compelled to ask about her son Sam, although he
knew that it was probably one of those things you shouldn't talk about on a first date.

  "He's a good boy. Getting bigger every day." And then they moved on.

  11 p.m. came too soon, and when the time came he walked her to a house which Carolina explained belonged to the baby sitter.

  "My car's round the back...I'll get Sam and then drive back from here."

  "Can I see you again tomorrow?" Peter asked.

  "You have no choice. I work in the pub, remember?"

  Peter laughed. "I know, but I can take you out for a meal or a drink somewhere else?"

  "Maybe, ask me tomorrow. Let me think about it. Like I said, this is all a little weird...Don't get me wrong, I've really, really enjoyed talking to you. It's just me. I haven't gone out with anyone for a long time."

  "No problem. I'll ask you again tomorrow after breakfast!" Peter joked.

  "By the way, what happened when you went to visit the waterfall? Did you like it?"

  "Yes, it was lovely. And tomorrow I'll go and see that other one you mentioned, if you can give me directions again. What time do you start your shift?"

  "Just before lunch tomorrow. I cover lunch, then get the afternoon off, and then come back for the evening shift. I'm glad you liked the Grey Mare's Tail. It's very popular. Well, relatively speaking. Not very many people come here to Knuttsford. Personally, though, I prefer the Grey Mare's Small Tail, it's not so impressive, but only a few people seem to know about it. It's my secret place. Almost no one ever goes there, and I only ever really tell people about it that I like."

  "So why are you telling me, then?" Peter asked.

  "Because I must like you?"

  "Where is it?" Peter asked.

  "When you got to the top of the road, can you remember that the road forked? Yes, well, you went to the right, didn't you? Next time you go there, you drive to the left and take the road around the side of the hill. Just park where the road dies, and walk straight on into the trees. You won't realise it but you are actually now on the other side of the small hill which the river runs down. The river forks in the rocks somewhere higher up...most of the water runs left down to the Grey Mare's Tail, but some of it is diverted to the right, and comes out in a small waterfall called the Grey Mare's 'Small' Tail. It's just a couple of metres tall, but during the summer I used to fall asleep on the grass in front of it, making dreams and plans for the future."