Corpse Road

by David J Gatward

  ‘Just back to Hawes,’ Harry replied. ‘Everything sorted with your staff?’

  ‘They’re a bit concerned,’ Adam said. ‘Didn’t really know what to tell them.’

  Harry didn’t offer an answer. ‘We’ve a room at the community centre we can have a chat in.’

  Adam opened the passenger door. ‘You sure that’s all that this is? A chat?’

  Harry gave a firm nod. ‘Yes, just a chat. So we can clear a few things up, go over some details, that kind of thing. It’s normal police procedure. Nothing to worry about.’ That last bit’s potentially a massive lie, Harry thought, because if this went south then there was quite a lot to worry about indeed.’

  Adam didn’t reply and instead just slumped down into Harry’s car, so Harry joined him, dropping himself into his seat, and starting the engine.

  ‘I’ve only just bought this,’ Harry said, working hard to make conversation and to sound relaxed. ‘So I’ve no CDs or anything yet. Just the radio. Hope that’s okay?’

  There was no answer from Adam and Harry saw that the man was staring out of the passenger window. He seemed smaller somehow, Harry thought. Deflated. Whether that was a good sign or not, he hadn’t the faintest idea. So he knocked the car into reverse, turned around, and headed away from the priory.

  At the community centre, Harry asked Matt to take Adam through to one of the other rooms, which Matt did quietly and professionally, and asked Jim to follow on with some tea and biscuits. Fly was curled up at Liz’s feet under the desk. Harry then made his way through to the main room.

  ‘Morning, all.’

  The three faces that turned to acknowledge his presence were all serious. Liz walked over and handed something to Harry.

  ‘It’s the postcard from Gordie,’ she said. ‘Sounds like she’s having a great time up in Scotland with the family.’

  ‘Could do with her here, though,’ Harry muttered to himself, taking the postcard. He then scanned what Gordie had to say, noted that she’d mainly written about how beautiful the Highlands were and that, ‘Yorkshire has no right to call its hills hills,’ not when you compared it to, ‘Glencoe, the most hauntingly beautiful place on Earth,’ then he mooched over to the kettle.

  ‘How are you doing, then?’ Jen asked, coming over to stand next to Harry. ‘Matt told us you were bringing Adam in for a chat. You don’t think . . .?’

  ‘I don’t know what I think right now, if I’m honest,’ Harry said, reaching for the enormous mug of his, dropping in two teabags, then filling it up with boiling water. His mind wasn’t just on the murders, but on the contents of the envelope he’d found back at the flat, what Liz had told him about the two men she’d seen, and the fact that, as yet, he’d not had a return call from his old DSup. ‘Hopefully a chat with him will clear things up, though, eh?’

  Harry’s attempt at a smile felt awkward and he knew that his eyes weren’t in on it.

  ‘Boss?’

  Harry glanced over to see Jadyn sitting next to Liz. On the table in front of them, the laptop was open. Leaving his tea to brew, he made his way over.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Remember that profile we set up yesterday?’ Liz said. ‘Facebook?’

  Harry shuddered. ‘Yeah, I remember alright. Can’t say that I’m any the wiser as to why people think it’s a good idea to have it in their lives.’

  ‘Yes, but you were on it last night anyway, weren’t you?’ Jadyn said.

  ‘That I was,’ Harry said. ‘For a while, anyway. As long as I could bear. Why?’

  Jadyn pointed at the screen in front of Liz. ‘Best you have a look for yourself.’

  Harry turned his attention to the screen to see the Facebook monster staring back at him. ‘So what am I looking at exactly?’

  ‘Firstly, this,’ Liz said, and opened a drop-down menu on the right of the screen. ‘Remember I told you what this little bell symbol was? Notifications? Well, you’ve got a few. Look.’

  Harry leaned over for a look but was none the wiser. ‘And?’

  ‘And,’ Jadyn said, ‘these are all notifications to tell you that someone has either reacted to your posts or commented on them.’

  Liz clicked one of the notifications, the screen changed, and Harry was looking at something he’d posted from the night before. Underneath the posting were symbols comprising hearts and thumbs-up. There were comments, too.

  ‘So, some people I’ve never met in my life commented or liked something I put up on Facebook,’ Harry said. ‘Whoopee-doo. How is that important?’

  ‘We’ve been through all your comments,’ Liz said. ‘Quite a few more responses than I expected, if I’m honest, so this is obviously quite a lively little group. The thing is though that one name seems to have been commenting more than the others. Look.’

  Liz scrolled down, and sure enough, someone had indeed commented more than the others.

  ‘It’s like this on all of your posts, and the ones that I did, too,’ Liz said.

  ‘And there’s a message,’ Jadyn said. ‘Check it out.’

  Liz clicked on the icon next to the bell, the one shaped like a speech bubble with a bolt of lightning in it. Harry had wondered what that was.

  ‘So, what does it say?’ Harry asked.

  ‘It’s not much, really,’ Jadyn said. ‘Just an offer of help.’

  ‘So why am I looking at it, then?’ Harry said.

  ‘Because,’ Liz said, ‘this is someone reaching out to you. No one else has. This is someone making personal contact with you from the same group that Kirsty joined. And they’re not just reaching out, either. They’re offering to help you find somewhere good to go and enjoy your first solo camp.’

  ‘But I don’t want to,’ Harry said, a little shocked at the suggestion. ‘I’ve got literally no intention at all of going solo camping anywhere! I got my fill of sleeping under the stars when I was in the Paras. Do you think I want to be heading off and doing all of that again?’

  ‘Well of course you haven’t!’ Liz said, and Harry noticed the hint of exasperation in her voice. ‘This isn’t you, is it? It’s a profile we set up to see if we could get a response. And we have!’

  ‘So, I don’t have to go solo camping?’

  ‘No, you don’t!’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief,’ Harry said. ‘So, now what?’

  Liz was back to her screen, made a few quick clicks. ‘This is the profile of the person who contacted you.’

  Harry looked over the PCSO’s shoulder. ‘All I’m seeing is a few pictures of hills and tents,’ he said.

  ‘Exactly,’ agreed Jadyn.

  ‘Exactly what?’

  ‘Whoever this is,’ Jadyn continued, ‘well, they’re not exactly being open about who they are, are they? That profile photo isn’t of them, is it? It’s just a random view of some hills.’

  ‘Well, at least we thought it was random at first, but now we don’t think it is.’

  ‘Can you get to the point, please?’ Harry said. ‘Before I lose consciousness?’

  Liz tapped a finger on the screen over the profile photo. ‘That, right there, is Swaledale,’ she said. ‘The rest of the photos are a mix of stuff pulled from the internet and other photos, probably the profile owner’s own. But there’s nothing here that openly says who this person is, what they’re about. Basically, it gives you the impression that they’re real, but to my mind, someone is hiding behind this.’

  ‘You think it could be Kirsty’s killer?’

  ‘It’s a possibility, isn’t it?’ Liz said.

  Harry straightened himself up and heard his back creak and pop a little too loudly. Perhaps sleeping in his car hadn’t been such a great idea after all.

  ‘So, is there anything there yet that’s of any use?’ Harry asked. ‘Bearing in mind that I’m about to go in and question someone.’

  ‘No, not yet,’ Liz said. ‘But if we respond, we might get something. It’s worth a try, right?’

  ‘And you think this is what happened to
Kirsty?’

  ‘Could be,’ Jadyn said. ‘If we act in the same way, convince whoever this person is that we’re genuine, they might let something slip.’

  ‘You’re setting yourself up as bait,’ Harry observed.

  ‘We’re doing exactly what you said to do,’ Liz stated. ‘To become like the hunter’s prey, remember? And this isn’t us. It’s a profile on social media. It’s worth a try. And we’ve already had a bite, haven’t we?’

  ‘Could this all have been posted by Adam?’ Harry asked.

  ‘It could have been posted by anyone,’ Jadyn replied. ‘There’s nothing on here other than the fact that we think the profile photo is of Swaledale that can link it to someone local. And even that’s tenuous, to say the least.’

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it, then, shall I?’ Harry said, leaving Liz and Jadyn to collect his now very brewed tea. As he made to leave the room, Jen was heading out as well, and clearly in a bit of a rush.

  ‘Anything important?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Just some old bloke gone for a walkabout,’ she said. ‘Gary’s neighbour. Gary just rang to see if one of us could go and give him a hand in finding him.’

  ‘Best you get off then,’ Harry said. ‘But don’t mention that we’ve got his brother in, okay?’

  Watching Jen bounce off into the day, Harry took a gulp of tea and headed off to have a chat with Adam Bright.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Harry was just about to head into the room to talk to Adam when his phone rang.

  ‘Grimm?’ he answered.

  ‘It’s Rebecca Sowerby.’

  ‘Good news or bad?’ Harry asked.

  ‘I’m not sure my job is about good or bad news,’ Rebecca replied. ‘Facts though? That I can do.’

  Harry leaned back against a wall and took another glug of tea. ‘Fire away, then.’

  ‘Obviously, we’ve not got all the details together yet,’ Rebecca said, ‘but I wanted to get a few things to you as soon as possible.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘For a start, there’s what was carved into the man’s head. And by carved, I mean exactly that. Whoever did this wanted the word read after the fire went out, and that wasn’t going to happen unless he hit bone. So he must have really gone for it to hack down that deep.’

  ‘So, you’re not sure if it’s Daryl yet?’

  Harry tried not to think about someone chiselling a word into another person’s head, but it was hard not to. Sometimes he wondered if his imagination had it in for him, his mind immediately filling with its own lurid version of what had happened. The blood, the screaming, the unbearable agony, it just didn’t bear thinking about.

  ‘You saw the body,’ Rebecca said. ‘It’s going to be DNA only, but we should have a confirmation either way before the end of the day.’

  ‘So what was carved into his head, then?’ Harry asked.

  ‘It’s another name,’ Rebecca said.

  ‘What do you mean, another name?’

  ‘Well,’ Rebecca said, ‘Kirsty had Stacy, didn’t she? This time we’ve got . . .’ She paused, breathed. ‘We’ve got Chad.’

  ‘Chad?’

  ‘Yes, Chad.’

  ‘Who the hell is Chad?’

  ‘Don’t shout at me! I haven’t the faintest idea!’

  ‘I’m not shouting at you!’ Harry said, his voice still raised. ‘I’m shouting at this whole bloody case! Stacy? Chad? What the hell is going on?’

  ‘It was carved in the same place as the name Stacy on Kirsty. Deeper, though, like I said. They really went for it. Doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  ‘And it doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘On that, we can absolutely agree.’

  Harry rubbed his head with his warm mug in an attempt at getting some comfort from something because he certainly wasn’t getting it from the phone call.

  ‘Stacy and Chad.’ Harry sighed. ‘Who the holy hell are Stacy and Chad? What the name of all things shite does any of it mean other than bugger all? Why use those names? It has to mean something.’

  ‘I haven’t the faintest idea,’ Rebecca said.

  ‘Anything else?’ Harry was pretty sure he was getting a headache now.

  ‘Yes,’ Rebecca said. ‘His head was taped to the car headrest, at a guess to allow whoever did this to carve that name into his skull. And that’s no easy task, either, to cut through skin and muscle and then to scratch and chip bone.’

  ‘God almighty.’ Harry sighed. ‘And the poor bastard was alive through the whole thing?’

  ‘That’s the only reason he would’ve been chained and taped into his seat,’ Rebecca said. ‘To make sure he couldn’t move. If he’d been dead or unconscious, there would’ve been no need. And a preliminary examination of the body shows evidence that he struggled, not just from the cutting but the . . .’

  Rebecca didn’t finish.

  ‘He was burned alive?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rebecca said. ‘Evidence of an accelerant was found, petrol no doubt. The centre of the fire was the driver’s seat. It spread outwards from there . . . from him. And there was a tracking device under the car.’

  For the briefest moment, Harry’s mind was back to what he had seen the night before, only his imagination had kicked in as well. The car was alight, an inferno of twisted, screeching metal, melting plastic and rubber. The roar of the flames filled the air, but above it rose the horrifying, agonised screams of the man trapped inside, his body thrashing uselessly against the chains and tape which held him fast, pinning him to the death which came as a mercy.

  ‘Well, thanks for calling,’ Harry said. ‘I think.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ Rebecca replied. ‘It’s a nasty one, this. You need all the help you can get.’

  ‘You’re not wrong,’ Harry muttered, then hung up, turned back to the door in front of him, and pushed on through.

  In the room, Harry found Adam, Matt, and Jim waiting for him in awkward silence, sitting on opposite sides of a small table. In front of them, their tea had been drunk, and whatever biscuits there had been were now gone.

  Jim stood up to leave and Harry followed him through the door.

  ‘You heading off anywhere?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Nothing urgent,’ Jim said. ‘Why? You got something for me to do?’

  ‘Yes,’ Harry said and relayed what the pathologist had told him.

  ‘Chad?’ Jim said. ‘Who the hell is Chad?’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Harry. ‘But the names must mean something, right? Stacy and Chad? So, can you go see what you can dig up?’

  ‘On the names Stacy and Chad?’

  ‘Look, I know it sounds daft, but for all we know that’s key to this whole thing. Just see what you can find, okay?’

  ‘Of course, no worries, boss.’

  Harry patted Jim on his shoulder to say thanks, then turned back into the room, closing the door behind him. He then sat down and rested his mug to his right, between himself and Matt. Adam was opposite.

  ‘Thanks for coming in,’ Harry said. ‘It’s much appreciated.’

  ‘Not sure I had much choice,’ Adam said.

  Harry pulled out his notebook. Matt did the same. Then he took down a few details, including the time and date.

  ‘Look, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding here,’ Adam said.

  ‘We just want to go over a few things, that’s all,’ Harry said. ‘So, some of this will feel like you’re repeating yourself or going over something you’ve already told us, but other details might come out. Is that okay?’

  ‘Am I under arrest?’ Adam asked, the tone of his voice hard, abrupt.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Harry said, and it was the truth. There wasn’t sufficient reason to force him to stay.

  ‘I can leave at any time, then?’

  ‘Yes, that’s entirely up to you,’ Harry said. ‘But hopefully, you can see that it’s best to get things cleared up.’

  Adam sucked in a deep breath, gave a resigned nod.r />
  ‘So, perhaps you could go right back to last Friday for us,’ Harry suggested.

  ‘But you know all of that,’ Adam replied.

  ‘We do, yes,’ Harry agreed, ‘but if you could, it would be very helpful.’

  Adam leaned forward, his hands clenched together, and Harry could see that they were hard hands, toughened up from a life outdoors.

  ‘I was coming back from work—’

  ‘What time was that?’ Harry asked.

  ‘I don’t know exactly. Gone eleven, I guess?’

  ‘Working late, then,’ Matt said.

  ‘Yes, I was,’ Adam replied. ‘It’s an accepted part of the job, like yours.’

  ‘So, you were heading home and Gary called?’

  ‘Yes,’ Adam said.

  ‘To tell you he’d seen lights on the hills above Gunnerside.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Adam replied. ‘He’d been to the pub for a drink and was heading back home. He usually heads down there most Fridays.’

  ‘Was there anything about the light he saw that made Gary think it was suspicious?’ Harry asked. ‘I mean, it could’ve been anything, right? Just someone walking along the tops, a farmer maybe.’

  ‘No, he didn’t,’ Adam said. ‘But I wasn’t going to just ignore it, just in case.’

  Harry glanced at Matt. ‘How far is it from Marrick Priory to Gunnerside, Detective Sergeant?’

  Matt did a very good impression of looking thoughtful.

  ‘About eight miles?’

  ‘And how long would that take to drive?’

  ‘Twenty minutes at a guess,’ Matt said.

  ‘How is that relevant?’ Adam asked. ‘To anything at all? I was at work and then I drove home.’

  ‘Did anyone see you leave?’ Harry asked.

  ‘No. I mean, well, I’m not sure,’ Adam replied, a frown settling in for the duration. ‘I didn’t announce my departure, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘So, you could have left at any time?’ Harry suggested. ‘During this Night Owl activity that you mentioned, for example.’

  ‘But I didn’t,’ Adam countered. ‘Why would I? I was keeping an eye on my staff. That’s my job.’

  ‘Do the names Stacy and Chad mean anything to you?’ Harry asked.