Corpse Road

by David J Gatward

  Leaving Matt in the scrape, Harry led the rest of the team away from Matt, who he could hear muttering and grumbling to himself as they walked away. When they got to the campsite, Harry gathered them around, facing him. ‘Right, what you’re going to do now, is to turn around and try to spot Matt, okay? Simple as that. Ready?’

  Everyone gave a collective nod.

  ‘Good,’ Harry said. ‘Then, turn around.’

  Harry watched as the team stared out into the moors, eyes scanning for Matt’s not inconsiderable bulk. At first, it was clear to Harry that they had all thought it would be an easy task, but soon their cocky smiles faded to frowns.

  While they were all staring, Harry’s own eyes wandered along the route of the old Corpse Road, thinking again about the question Matt had asked, about whether Kirsty had been killed up here because of the name of the place. His eyes caught on something, a huge rock, someway over to their left, at the edge of the footpath.

  ‘That’s the old Coffin Stone,’ Jim said.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘That massive rock you’re staring at.’

  ‘Coffin stone? Good God, is everything up here creepy as hell?’

  ‘It’s worth a look if you get a moment. Folk used to rest their dead on it when they were travelling the road. You can still see crosses and the initials of the dead inscribed on it if you look closely.’

  ‘Maybe not today, eh?’ Harry said. Then he turned to the team and asked, ‘Anyone spot him, yet?’

  The only response he got was the shaking of heads.

  ‘You’re sure of that?’

  More head shaking.

  ‘Right, then,’ Harry said, then shouted out, ‘Matt?’

  ‘Boss!’

  ‘Can you stand up, please? But stay where you are for a mo’?’

  ‘Righto, will do!’

  Harry watched as from the undergrowth Matt emerged, slowly and a little stiffly, looking rather like an ageing gorilla stirring from its nest. He waved.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Jadyn said, his voice a whisper.

  ‘What is it?’ Harry asked. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘Just that I thought he’d be easy to spot,’ Jadyn said. ‘He’s not even camouflaged or anything and none of us could see him.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Harry said. ‘So, what does this tell us?’

  Silence first, then Jen said, ‘The killer knew exactly where Kirsty was going to pitch her tent.’

  ‘Which means what?’

  ‘That he’d been here before?’ Jim said.

  ‘I think there’s more to it than that,’ Harry said. ‘The killer came out here and did a bit of a recce, right? Then dug out that scrape so that it would give them a clear line of fire to Kirsty’s tent at the same time as making sure she wouldn’t see them. And my guess is that our killer was probably camouflaged as well. Possibly in a ghillie suit.’

  ‘A what?’ Jadyn asked.

  ‘Sniper suit, right?’ Jim said, receiving a confirming smile from Harry. ‘Named after the Gaelic word for gamekeeper. Wear one of those and no one’s going to see you.’

  ‘Yeah, but how did they know where she would be?’ Jadyn asked. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’

  Matt had by now wandered over to re-join the team. ‘It does,’ he said, leaning into the conversation, ‘if whoever the killer actually set the whole thing up from the off.’

  Harry gave Matt a nod of approval. ‘The killer knew the route Kirsty was going to take, agreed? They knew where she would pitch her tent, where they would need to dig that scrape. They knew every part of what went down on Friday night. And if you throw in the fact that all of Kirsty’s kit was brand new, implying that this was a first for her, then—’

  ‘Jesus . . .’ said Jen, cutting Matt off.

  ‘As our good Lord and Saviour is nowhere to be seen right now,’ Harry said, ‘I’m assuming a thought has just bubbled to the surface?’

  ‘They knew each other,’ Jen said, her words hesitant. ‘Or the killer knew Kirsty, anyway. Otherwise, how would they have known where a newbie camper like her was going to be on Friday night, right? They would’ve had to of known every bit of what she planned to do, when she would be here, everything!’

  ‘Bit of a jump, though, isn’t it?’ Jadyn said.

  ‘I don’t think any of this is random,’ Harry said. ‘Yes, there’s a chance that whoever it is, they came out here night after night in the hope of someone camping right here. But that’s not exactly boxing clever, is it?’

  ‘Here’s another thought,’ Matt offered. ‘What if the only reason Kirsty camped here at all was because the killer actually suggested it. Somehow gave her the idea so that they could be all set up, have the place scoped out, be sure where Kirsty would be, everything really.’

  The rest of the team turned their attention to the detective sergeant.

  ‘Think about it,’ Matt continued. ‘None of this is random. We’ve a woman camping solo, for the first time in her life it seems, and she’s out here in Swaledale of all places, and on the Corpse Road. That in itself seems a bit weird, right? At the same time, we’ve a killer who knows where Kirsty was going to camp, the route, where to observe, where to shoot those little white balls at her from.’

  ‘The question, though, is how,’ Harry said. ‘And that’s what this has all been about. Finding a murderer isn’t just about discovering everything you can about who they are, their motives, their lives. You have to turn it on its head and not just think about what it was like for the victim, but to become them.’

  ‘Explain,’ Matt said.

  ‘We now know that the killer, the hunter, was out there, right? They were either waiting for Kirsty to arrive, or came up after, but what matters is, they had the whole thing scoped out. So now think about it as the victim, the hunter’s prey.’

  ‘You mean how is it that Kirsty ended up here at all?’ Jim said.

  ‘Exactly that.’ Harry smiled. ‘She had no interest in camping until recently, and yet here she is, loads of new kit, on a very specific route, and she’s been murdered by someone who clearly knew where she was going to be. So, someone got her here, didn’t they? Guided her right to this very spot to have her killed. It’s not random. Not one bit of it.’

  ‘But how the hell did the killer know how to do any of this?’ Matt asked, frustration in his voice. ‘And more to the point, why?’

  ‘Think like the victim, the prey,’ Harry suggested. ‘Where would Kirsty have got any of the ideas that would eventually see her ending up here?’

  ‘We start with friends, family, work, social groups,’ Jadyn said.

  ‘Social media,’ suggested Jen. ‘If Kirsty’s on Facebook or Instagram or whatever—and who isn’t, right?—then there might be something there.’

  ‘Like the pathologist said, we’ve already got a request in with Facebook,’ Harry said.

  ‘But that could take days,’ Jen replied.

  Harry couldn’t argue with her voiced concern.

  ‘And those little ball things,’ Jim said. ‘We need to have a look at what this Airsoft is all about, don’t we? Might give us a bit more background. You said it’s a team thing so maybe there’s somewhere close by that does it.’

  ‘We don’t know that the killer is local, though,’ Jadyn said.

  ‘Maybe there have been other incidents?’ Matt said. ‘Folk getting pinged at by those balls? It’s a long shot, but you never know, right? There are reports every year of kids taking potshots at people with air rifles from tower blocks.’

  ‘Bit of an exaggeration,’ Harry said. ‘But, yes, definitely worth looking into.’ He stepped back from the team. ‘Looks like we’ve a busy day tomorrow,’ he said. ‘What say we all get home?’

  Matt checked his watch. ‘Just in time for Antiques Roadshow as well.’

  When Harry arrived back at his flat, the afternoon was long gone and the sky was a dark blue dotted with the brightest stars. He pushed through his front door, phone to his ear, returning Liz’
s call from earlier. As he waited for her to answer, he saw the envelope again, the one he’d spotted on the doormat that morning, so he picked it up and opened it.

  ‘Liz,’ Harry said. ‘Just returning your call.’

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Liz replied. ‘Dave Calvert was around and said he’d seen them, you see, so I thought I’d go and have a look myself, just in case. And it’s good for folk to see us out and about, isn’t it? Police presence and all that.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Liz?’ Harry asked, slipping the contents out of the envelope. ‘A look at what?’

  ‘Two blokes,’ Liz explained. ‘Dave saw them when he went round to your flat to ask if you were up for a pint as he’s back from work for a week or two. I saw them as well. They nearly ran me over, the pillocks!’

  But Harry wasn’t listening. Instead, he was staring at what he’d pulled from the envelope—a collection of photographs which turned his blood to ice.

  ‘Boss?’ Liz said, sensing the pause at the other end of the line. ‘You still there? What do you think they were doing? Those men, I mean? What do you think they were after? They’re not linked to something back home, are they? Something in Bristol?’

  ‘Did you get the number plate?’ Harry asked, ignoring Liz’s questions, his voice almost catching in his throat.

  Liz read it down the phone. ‘You know them, then, do you?’

  ‘No,’ Harry said, his voice gruff and hard-edged. ‘No, I don’t. But they seem to know me.’

  Liz fell quiet for a moment, then asked, ‘You okay? Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No, honestly, I’m fine,’ Harry said, though he knew the tone of his voice said the exact opposite. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, right? And thanks for passing on the message. I’ll give Dave a call in the week.’

  Hanging up, Harry carried the photographs through to the lounge and splayed them out on the coffee table, sitting himself down on the sofa. From the photos, his brother stared back at him, from the inside of a prison, oblivious to the fact that his photograph had been taken.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, boss, and I hope you take this as my considered, professional opinion, but you look like utter shite.’

  Harry knew that Matt had a point, but it was hardly one he needed hammering home right there and then. But behind the jokey façade, he caught the concern in the man’s voice, and that stopped him from biting back at the DS too hard. ‘Thanks for pointing that out, Detective Sergeant. Very kind.’

  Harry had arrived at the community centre that morning after a night of very little sleep and an awful lot of worry. As Matt was office manager, Harry had given him the responsibility of running through the morning briefing, and now, with that behind them, everyone was on with the rest of the day.

  ‘This is what you need,’ Matt said, handing over to Harry the pint mug he’d bought him a couple of months ago.

  Harry took the steaming mug and sat down, rubbing his eyes in a weak attempt to push the weariness away.

  ‘And this.’

  The other thing in Matt’s hand was a white paper bag, grease already staining the surface.

  ‘That doesn’t look like a bacon butty,’ Harry said.

  ‘It isn’t,’ Matt said. ‘It’s a breakfast pie!’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Imagine it,’ Matt said, taking a seat next to Harry as though he was about to bestow upon him the greatest knowledge known to humankind, ‘and I mean really imagine it—a whole breakfast! In a pie!’

  Harry leaned away from the DS’s offering. ‘That sounds completely horrific.’

  ‘It’s heaven in a pastry!’ Matt said, offering his superior the paper-wrapped pie.

  ‘But breakfast?’ Harry said. ‘In a pie? Does it come with a topping of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes, as well?’

  Matt looked thoughtful for a second or two, almost as though he was considering Harry’s suggestion as an idea to put to the baker. ‘It’s got sausage, black pudding, beans, and scrambled eggs in it,’ Matt said. ‘Trust me, once you’ve experienced it, you’ll never forget it.’

  ‘That’s what’s worrying me,’ Harry said, but despite his misgivings, he took the kindly offered gift and took a bite.

  ‘Well?’ Matt said, staring at Harry expectantly. ‘What do you think? Fantastic, isn’t it? Cockett’s has a winner here, I reckon. Bloody wonderful stuff!’

  ‘The amazing thing about it,’ Harry said, having survived his first mouthful, ‘is that I’m pretty sure I can actually hear my arteries clogging up with each bite.’

  ‘Ah, get away with you,’ Matt said. ‘That there is a work of genius!’

  Harry settled back and continued to munch his way through the pie, washing it down with hot tea.

  ‘Bad night, then?’ Matt asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Harry nodded, wiping his mouth of pastry crumbs. ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Anything I can help with?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so. Personal stuff, that’s all. The pie was much appreciated though, thank you.’

  ‘There’s a pie for every occasion, I’m sure,’ Matt said. ‘And it’s my personal mission to find them all.’

  Harry didn’t doubt it.

  Matt leaned back in his chair. ‘Family then, I’m guessing, right? Can’t live with them, can’t kill them. Well, you can, but it’s not advisable.’

  Harry, smiling at Matt’s approach to showing genuine concern, looked around at the rest of the team. All things considered, they were looking pretty fresh. Liz was with them now, too, so that was good. And the evidence room was nice and full, so he’d have to go and have a look at all of that very soon.

  ‘Look,’ Matt said, and Harry noticed that the man’s voice was serious now, ‘if you need to head home and grab some shut-eye or whatever, we’ve got everything covered here, I’m sure. Did anything come up from that number plate Liz gave you?’

  Harry shook his head. He’d hoped to catch Liz that morning before she’d had a chance to talk to any of the others about the men in the car, but that hadn’t happened and now everyone knew. The important thing was, though, that Swift didn’t, not yet anyway, and they’d all promised Harry to keep it to themselves. Not that there was actually that much to know, Harry thought, taking a final long glug from his mug to drain it dry, but still, he didn’t really want his private life spilling over into the day job. Not professional. Now, however, seemingly unavoidable.

  Harry called Liz over. ‘Who was it you said called at the office?’ he asked. ‘Not Dave, I mean later, after you’d been out?’

  ‘Oh, that,’ Liz said. ‘No one. By which I mean, it was some tourist, bit worse for wear he was. Thought this was the hostel he was staying at! I put him right, not least because he couldn’t have been more wrong.’

  Harry smiled at what, to him, summed up being in the police. One minute you were dealing with a murder, next you were making sure that a pisshead got into the right bed. One thing the job certainly didn’t lack, was variety.

  Jim called from the door and gave a wave. ‘Best I go see what all this Airsoft is about then, right?’ he said, while Fly, who was wriggling like mad in his arms, stretched up to try and lick his chin.

  ‘Don’t come back all Rambo, now,’ Matt said.

  With Jim gone, next to follow was Jadyn, who was heading off to see if he could discover more about Kirsty’s wider life beyond what they already knew, which wasn’t really that much. He had the contact details for some friends, thanks to her parents, and there was her workplace to check out as well, and the gym she used. He’d be gone for the rest of the day and Harry could see that the lad was happy to be getting out and on with the job.

  ‘You heading off now as well?’ Harry asked Matt, finishing his tea.

  ‘Well, there’s a fair few doors to knock,’ Matt said. ‘But I’ve got a couple of uniform joining me over in Keld to help me out, like, so we should be able to get around the places we
need to. You know, Keld itself, Gunnerside, Reeth, Fremington, Grinton. And I’m going to just pop in and see Mr Harker.’

  ‘Who?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Gary and Adam’s next-door neighbour. Just crossing the t’s, dotting the i’s, as it were.’

  ‘I know it’s a ball ache,’ Harry said, ‘but it’s always worth checking. Our killer left the hills before the rescue team showed up so someone might have seen something, heard something. You never know.’

  Matt stood to leave as a knock sounded from the door. Looking over, Harry saw Liz answer it to reveal a young man with short, dark scruffy hair standing there more than a little awkwardly. It reminded Harry of a kid being sent to see the headteacher.

  ‘Yes?’ Liz said, as Matt pushed past and strode off into the day.

  ‘Oh, hi, yes,’ the young man replied. ‘I’m looking for . . . actually, I’ve forgotten her name, and . . . I . . . er . . .’

  Jen peered around the door. ‘Gary?’

  ‘Hello!’ the young man said, seeing Jen. Harry watched as his face broke into an awkward smile, embarrassed almost. ‘Sorry, are you busy?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ Jen answered. ‘We all are. Why? Have you remembered something?’

  Harry could see that Gary was starting to feel a bit awkward, but he was fairly sure that Jen had it all in hand so continued to observe from a distance.

  ‘No, I mean, it was just torchlight,’ Gary explained. ‘That was all.’

  ‘Oh, okay then,’ Jen said, a little bit of confusion squeezing into her voice. ‘So, there’s something else, is there? Has something happened?’

  Gary shuffled his feet a little. ‘No, I mean, I was just driving through, like. Picking something up from Mike at the garage? And I thought, you know, that I’d just pop in to see if you wanted a quick spin in the car, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, that’s very kind,’ Jen began, glancing back over to Liz and Harry, her eyes wide.

  ‘You said you liked it,’ Gary explained. ‘Remember? And I was in the area, so I just thought . . . I mean, I don’t meet many people who like the car, but no bother, not if you’re busy.’