Corpse Road

by David J Gatward

  Good God, it is beautiful, Harry thought, stepping outside to stare down the valley. He’d been asleep longer than he’d expected to be, with the time now edging up towards eight in the morning. The day was waking itself up to be one as bright and sweet as could ever be imagined.

  The fells, Harry saw, were a vibrant rainbow in various shades of green, and he thought then how he had never truly appreciated just how many different types of green that there could be. Not until he’d moved north, that was.

  Covering the fields and dwellings which sat beneath them, as though huddled up under those great, earth-built thrones for protection, a gossamer-thin veil of fog hung suspended, a pale white and ghostly thing, a spectral entity at rest. Cars were zipping along the wall-lined roads and lanes, dots of colour against the green and grey. The air, so rich with the scent of peat and hill and heather, was fully alive with the sound of birds on the wing catching their morning feast, and of sheep calling to each other to share the night’s secrets.

  After a hefty and somewhat groan-filled stretch, Harry climbed back into his car. He rubbed his face, his eyes, then fished some chewing gum from out of a pocket as a poor replacement for toothpaste and a brush. As he did so, his fingers knocked against something else and along with the chewing gum, he pulled out a small, blue torch. For a moment he had no idea where it was from or how it had got there and he clicked it on. The beam was feeble at best and then he remembered. It was Kirsty’s torch. He must have put it in his pocket by accident when he’d been looking through all the evidence back at the community centre. Well, he thought, I’d best keep that to myself. Don’t want it getting back to Swift that I’m taking evidence without signing it out first. Then, as refreshed as he could hope to be under such circumstances, he stuffed the torch back into his pocket, started the engine, dropped his window into the door, and drove onwards.

  After a few minutes, the road stretching on like a thread stitching together the quilt of fields that surrounded him, Harry spotted a sign ahead to the village of Marrick. He recognised the name but couldn’t immediately remember why. And then he had it, recalling speaking with Adam on that first and truly awful Friday when Kirsty had been found. But it wasn’t Marrick that Adam had worked at, was it? No, it was a priory going by the same name, Harry recalled. A quick look on his phone and he had found it, just away and on a bit from where he was, a sharp left, and then down a single-track lane by the looks of things.

  Well, Harry thought, I may as well head over there and have a chat, seeing as I’m in the area.

  He wasn’t really sure why, but then Adam had been first on the scene, so perhaps he’d remembered something since, as often happened in such events and goings-on.

  Harry followed the road along until a signpost had him take the left turn that he’d seen on the map. The road was narrow, dropping a little to his right as he headed along. He spotted the river Swale there at the edge of the fields, flowing in the same direction that he was driving.

  A mile or so on from where he had left the main road, Harry came to the priory, a building set in a dip just on his right, down from the road. A wooden barred gate blocked the way in, but there was parking just nearby so he pulled in next to an old Land Rover. The vehicle was a little different to the ones he’d seen driven around the dales. It was smaller, in phenomenal condition, the dark green paint and canvas hood so pristine he guessed it rarely, if ever, went off-road.

  Walking over to the gate, Harry made his way through and down the drive. In front of him, he saw a plain bungalow to his right and directly ahead, the tower of what he assumed to be the old priory. Although, it had more of the look of a church about it than anything so grand as a priory, he thought. Gravestones were dotted about, and Harry wondered then about the stories he could well imagine the staff telling the visiting groups of school children, of ghosts walking the grounds, voices in the night.

  Further down, and at the main entrance to the priory itself, Harry was able to make out stonework in the ground, peeping up through the lush grass, which he guessed formed the ruins of the building the priory had once been. It was still a grand place, and no less so by being smaller than its name suggested. Harry could almost sense the history of the place, as though it seeped from the ancient stones about him and tumbled from the tower which rose high above.

  The entrance into the priory itself was formed of large windows and beyond them, Harry could see that the centre itself was abustle with children and adults hurrying on into the day ahead of them. He’d spotted on his way down the drive what he assumed to be the storage area, between the bungalow and the main building of the priory. Hanging outside it he had seen equipment ranging from buoyancy aids and helmets to bows and targets. He could well imagine the excitement on the other side of the glass at the thought of what the day held.

  Harry was making his way over to the door leading into the building in the hope of finding Adam, when he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw Adam striding towards him and was once again struck by just how fit the man seemed, almost as though he oozed with every possible benefit a life lived outdoors provided.

  ‘DCI Grimm,’ Adam said, arriving a second or two later, and reaching out a hand. ‘Good to see you.’

  ‘And you,’ Harry said, returning the handshake. ‘Sorry to just turn up like this, but I was in the area and thought I’d just pop in. I hope it’s not too much of a problem.’

  ‘It’s not a problem at all,’ Adam replied. ‘You manage to park at the top? If I’d known you were coming over, I’d have unlocked the gate.’

  ‘Squeezed myself in next to a Land Rover,’ Harry said. ‘Not that I’ve ever seen one in such good condition.’

  Adam beamed. ‘That’s mine. It’s a Series One. Renovated it myself. No way I could afford to buy it now if it was up for sale!’

  ‘You and Gary, you’re both into your vehicles, then?’

  ‘We are that,’ Adam said. ‘He’s more into speed, though. That old thing doesn’t really accelerate as such, it just sort of gains momentum.’

  ‘I can see you’re busy,’ Harry said, gesturing to the children milling about inside the building. ‘I can come back another time.’

  ‘That’s all taken care of,’ Adam explained. ‘They’re all busy making their lunches, so unless you want to get all covered in margarine and Marmite, I reckon you’re safer out here.’

  ‘Then, here’s where I’ll stay,’ Harry said.

  ‘So, how can I help?’ Adam asked, leading Harry away from the entrance to sit on a low wall overlooking the fields which ran their way down to the river Swale below.

  Harry was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. ‘I’ll be honest, I’m not exactly sure,’ he said at last. ‘It’s just that, well, after last night . . .’

  ‘Has something happened?’ Adam asked.

  ‘You could say that, yes,’ Harry said. ‘Kirsty’s husband was found on the road between here and Richmond.’

  ‘Found? What was it, a car accident? Roads around here are a nightmare. Too many accidents. People treat them like it’s a race track.’

  ‘Nothing so simple as that,’ Harry replied. ‘I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say it’s looking very suspicious.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry to hear that,’ Adam said. ‘Can’t say I envy you your job at all.’

  Harry stayed quiet.

  ‘Do you know what happened?’ Adam asked.

  Harry shook his head. ‘Can’t say that I do. All I know is that we’ve now got two deaths and no answers as to what the hell actually happened.’

  ‘Sounds like you could do with a coffee,’ Adam suggested. ‘Interested?’

  ‘I don’t think I need to answer that, do I?’

  Following Adam into the priory, Harry was guided around to a small office with a couple of desks, a few too many filing cabinets, and walls covered in maps and noticeboards, as well as certificates and photographs. The former professing the qualifications of the staff to instruct people
in numerous and potentially dangerous pursuits, the latter comprising dozens of shots of people having the time of their lives in those self-same pursuits. He spotted a climbing harness hanging from a hook on the back of the door, walking boots stuffed under one of the desks, rucksacks, and a comprehensive-looking first aid kit.

  ‘Must be a fun place to work,’ Harry said, as Adam joined him in the office and handed over a large mug of steaming coffee. As he drank down the hot liquid, willing the caffeine to kick in as soon as possible, his eyes continued to explore the room, taking in even more detail.

  ‘It’s brilliant,’ Adam replied. ‘Best job in the world. The pay sucks, like, but you can’t have everything, right?’

  Harry sipped his coffee, the liquid burning his lips. The maps, he noticed, were of the whole of Swaledale, and on closer inspection, he saw one covering the area around Crackpot, and another the mines above Gunnerside. Then his eyes were drawn to something else entirely, a strange-looking schematic of what he assumed to be caverns.

  ‘That’s the map of Crackpot,’ Adam explained. ‘The cave we take the kids down. It’s a nice little adventure.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Harry said, eyes still wandering, across the walls, down onto the desks.

  ‘Not your kind of thing, then?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘The closest you’ll ever get me to caving is reaching under the bed for a lost sock.’

  Adam laughed, Harry sipped, and then his mind seemed to snag on something. He wasn’t sure what, but it was something that he’d seen, but not really processed. But what was it? And where?

  Adam was talking and Harry dialled back into what he was saying.

  ‘. . . almost impossible. I mean, it’s the easiest of caves to do, which is why we do it with kids, but you try getting someone out of it if they’re in a stretcher? Not fun at all!’

  ‘So how do you do it, then?’ Harry asked, still trying to find the thing that his mind had become snagged on. ‘Get someone out of the cave, I mean?’

  ‘There’s one bit, called Kneewrecker Passage, or as some of us call it, Fat Man’s Agony, where you have to crawl for a bit on all this scalloped rock. Really does your knees in if you’re not careful. To get someone out through that? Well, we all had to lie on our backs, head to toe, and pass them over the top of us. And the person we were trying to get out wasn’t exactly a lightweight either.’

  ‘Sounds fun,’ Harry said, his eyes now gliding over the windowsill behind one of the desks.

  ‘Definitely worth a visit,’ Adam said.

  ‘Matt’s said the same,’ Harry mumbled, almost to himself, and he was about to continue talking when his eyes fell on the thing which had caught his mind like a fishhook in the reeds.

  Shuffling across the floor, Harry reached over to the windowsill and lifted the thing for a closer look.

  ‘Anything I can help with?’ Adam asked.

  But Harry wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. Because there, in his hands, was a clear plastic tub. And it was filled to the brim with small, plastic balls.

  Harry turned to face Adam, holding the container up in the air for them both to see clearly.

  ‘Can you tell me what this is?’ Harry asked. He was working hard to keep his face passive, to not give anything away, not yet, anyway. His eyes wandered across the office walls again and fell on the map of the mines above Gunnerside.

  ‘Of course, I can,’ Adam said. ‘They’re plastic BBs. Why do you ask?’

  ‘And what are they for?’ Harry pressed.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’

  ‘Try me,’ Harry said, as he flipped open the lid of the container and tipped some of the BBs into the palm of his hand. The small, white balls sat there, inert and innocent, and yet all his mind was filled with right then were the images that the pathologist had shown them, the photographs of the bruises on Kirsty’s body.

  ‘Well, do you remember playing army at school?’ Adam asked.

  Harry nodded, as he pushed the balls around in the palm of his hand with a finger.

  ‘We used to do this thing called Join On For Army,’ Adam said, laughing then. ‘We’d join up in a line, arms over each other’s shoulders, then walk around the playground shouting Join on for army! Join on for army! If anyone wanted to join on, then that’s what they did! More often than not, we’d end up with a massive line of lads and then the bell would go!’

  ‘And what’s that got to do with these?’ Harry asked, holding out the hand with the BBs.

  ‘Imagine those army games we all played as kids, with cap guns, only played as adults, with life-size replicas, where you get to shoot your opponents for real!’

  ‘I was in the Paras,’ Harry said. ‘I’ve done it for real. Can’t say I really need to pretend.’

  ‘You should give it a go, though,’ Adam said. ‘Loads of ex-forces lads do it. It’s great fun! It’s called Airsoft or Skirmishing.’

  ‘So, you do this, then, do you? Skirmishing?’ Harry asked, tipping the BBs from his palm back into the tub and clicking it shut.

  ‘I’ve got all the gear,’ Adam admitted then. ‘It’s pretty expensive stuff, but I don’t mind. I mean, it’s outdoors for a start. And it can be pretty knackering, running around shooting the other team. You should give it a go.’

  ‘And where do you do it?’ Harry asked. ‘This skirmishing?’

  ‘Over Richmond way,’ Adam said. ‘There’s a site there. It’s excellent. Loads of scenarios, too.’

  Harry remembered that Jim had headed off to a skirmish site in Richmond the day before. He’d been meaning to catch up with him later on. Perhaps now he didn’t need to.

  ‘When was the last time you did it?’ Harry asked.

  Adam shrugged. ‘Couple of weeks ago, perhaps? Work’s been pretty full-on, and we’ve had a member of staff sick.’

  ‘What about last week?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Last week?’ Adam said, repeating Harry’s words.

  ‘Friday, for example,’ said Harry.

  ‘No, I was here,’ Adam said. ‘Like I told you, remember?’

  ‘Yes, I do, actually,’ Harry said. ‘You were observing your staff, I think, yes?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And would they have known that you were there?’

  Adam shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I mean, they knew I was there, but I doubt they saw me, which was the point, like I said. Give them space.’

  ‘Could you have just headed home instead?’ Harry asked. ‘Left them to it? Would they have known?’

  ‘I could, yes,’ Adam said, and Harry saw a flicker of concern spark in the man’s eyes. ‘Why? What are you suggesting?’

  Harry paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts into some sort of order. Right there and then, what he knew was that Adam had been first on the scene. He now also knew that Adam was into skirmishing courtesy of the little plastic BBs he’d just found in the man’s office. There was the map of the moors above Gunnerside on the office wall, suggesting Adam knew the area very well. And it looked as though his alibi for Friday evening wasn’t exactly watertight. Considering how fit the man was, and the short distance from the priory to Gunnerside, Harry figured that getting from one to the other, then up on the moors, wouldn’t exactly take very long. But what he didn’t have was any specific link from Adam to Kirsty or Daryl. But he certainly had enough to be concerned.

  ‘I’d like you to come with me to Hawes,’ Harry said. ‘Routine questions, that’s all. Important though, as I’m sure you can imagine.’

  ‘Well, I’m a bit busy right now,’ Adam said. ‘Can I come by later?’

  Harry shook his head. ‘I’m afraid it needs to be now. Your staff can cover for you.’

  ‘Yes, but still . . .’ Adam began, but Harry cut him off.

  ‘I need you to come with me now, Mr Bright,’ Harry said, his voice quiet, calm, firm. ‘Please.’

  ‘Mr Bright?’ Adam said, repeating his own name. ‘That all sounds
very formal.’ Then his expression changed, confusion falling from his face, tumbling away to reveal another one entirely. And in it, Harry saw the white-hot light of fear.

  Chapter Thirty

  Harry waited at the top of the drive of the priory, phone at his ear. Matt was on the other end of the call.

  ‘Adam Bright? You can’t be serious!’

  ‘Look, I’m bringing him in for questioning,’ Harry explained. ‘I’m not arresting him. I can’t, because we haven’t got anything, really, have we?’

  ‘Not really, no,’ Matt replied. ‘But you’re sure? You think it could be him?’

  Harry didn’t know what he was thinking. But what he did know was that a lot of things had all come together at once and they were pointing at Adam. And his job dictated that he explore every possibility. And if it was Adam, then there was no way he could just walk away now, was there? No. He had to get the man in, keep him relaxed so as not to spook him, and see if anything came from a few questions.

  ‘All I’m saying is that I’m bringing him in,’ Harry said. ‘He’ll be with me. If it comes to nothing, we can drop him back later. Any news on your end?’

  Matt said, ‘Well, we’ve got a postcard in from Gordie. Want me to read it to you?’

  ‘Yes, could you?’ Harry said.

  ‘Dear team,’ Matt began, but Harry cut him off.

  ‘I was taking the piss!’

  ‘Oh, right, yes, of course,’ Matt said, stumbling over his words. ‘You can see it when you get in. See you in a bit, boss.’

  Harry stuffed his phone back in his pocket and watched Adam making his way up towards him from the priory. He was walking with purpose, Harry noticed, but right then Harry couldn’t really put his finger on what that purpose was. Whether it was a man ready to prove his innocence, or a guilty man planning on not giving anything away, only time would tell.

  ‘So, where are we going then?’ Adam asked.