Gone to Ground

by Rachel Amphlett

  Without a word, Barnes nodded, then worked at the last of the floorboards, piling them behind where they crouched.

  As they worked, Kay realised that the original concrete foundation had been chipped apart and a deep hole had been carved into the ground under the workshop floor.

  She reckoned the crevice measured a little longer than the length of her own body and shivered.

  Derek Flinders had made a coffin out of the floor of his workshop.

  As the last floorboard came up in his hands, Barnes shoved it to one side and raised his gaze to Kay. ‘Are you ready for this?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  She took a deep breath before peering into the shallow hole they’d uncovered.

  Whatever happened next, she knew she’d never forget.

  She flipped her torch on, then swung it into the space below.

  She recoiled from the bloody mess that lined the makeshift cavity, covering her face as a second swarm of flies lifted into the air, then blinked to try to lose the sight of the wriggling maggots that infested the space where Flinders had kept his victims’ bodies before burning their remains.

  ‘Bloody hell, I was right,’ said Barnes.

  Fifty-Four

  A chill crept across Kay’s shoulders as she assessed their suspect.

  The man sitting before her in the early hours of the morning gazed at her with deep green eyes from under a dark brown fringe. His expression was blank, giving nothing away, and giving no hint of the evil that had driven him to kill, dismember and burn three innocent men.

  And those were the ones they knew about.

  Under further questioning, Bettina Merriweather had provided names for two more men she’d slept with in the past year; men whose details appeared on the missing persons database, lost without a trace.

  Derek Flinders had refused to provide details of a solicitor to represent him, and so a reluctant duty solicitor had attended, biting back a shocked retort after flipping through the notes Kay had passed to him in the corridor outside.

  ‘State your name and address for the record,’ said Barnes.

  ‘Derek Flinders, Rosewell Cottage, Sutton Valence.’

  ‘Are you the husband of Bettina Merriweather?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you own or lease any other property, Mr Flinders?’

  ‘I lease a workshop at the craft centre.’

  ‘Does anyone else have access to that workshop?’

  ‘No. I have the only key.’

  Kay shoved a photograph across the desk depicting the crime scene that had been set up at the man’s workshop overnight.

  ‘Can you confirm this is the workshop you lease?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Explain why we found traces of blood and faeces concealed beneath the floor.’

  Flinders blinked. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘How did you feel about your wife sleeping with the hotel guests?’ said Kay.

  A twitch began at the corner of Flinders’ right eye, and Kay edged backwards in her chair a split second before he launched from his seat and spat at the space where she’d been.

  Barnes was on his feet before the door opened and Sergeant Hughes burst into the room.

  Kay pushed back her chair as the two men restrained Flinders, the duty solicitor’s face one of shock.

  Kay’s satisfaction at their suspect’s response dwindled as he was returned to the desk, and she nodded her thanks to Hughes as he wiped down the surface with disinfectant before standing beside the desk in case Flinders tried anything else.

  Now she’d gained an insight into the temper that lay beneath his calm demeanour, they had to glean enough information from him to support the evidence and press charges.

  Barnes retook his place beside her and folded his arms on the table. ‘Let’s try again,’ he said after requesting that Hughes cite his name, rank and number for the recording. ‘Did you kill Patrick Lenehan?’

  Flinders rolled his neck before his eyes locked on Barnes. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why did you kill him?’

  ‘Because he deserved it. He slept with my wife.’

  ‘Did he tell you that?’

  ‘Eventually.’

  Kay noticed the panicked expression in the solicitor’s eyes and felt sorry for the man.

  Not only had he been dragged out of bed in the early hours of the morning to attend the police station, he now found himself representing a killer who seemed defiant in the face of accusation.

  Remorseless, in fact.

  In the silence that followed, the clock on the wall ticked the seconds away and Kay realised she would never be able to hear the noise again without recalling Flinders’ chilling admission.

  ‘Clive Wallis and Rupert Blacklock. Who were they to you?’ said Barnes.

  ‘They slept with my wife.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  Flinders sighed, shuffled in his chair and smiled benevolently.

  ‘Because unknown to my wife, I realised what she was doing a long time ago. From time to time, she would lie and tell me she was working late. At first, I thought she was telling me the truth, that she was working an extra shift because we needed the money, but then I became suspicious when she came home late one night. I could smell him on her. Their sex. The next time she lied, I cycled over to the hotel, and I waited. Around the time her supposed shift would end, she left the hotel. I nearly missed her – she used a side door. Now, if she did have a late shift, why would she do that?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘After a while, a man appeared at the doors to the reception area. He was obviously expecting a taxi. I wheeled my bike over to him, and pretended I was arriving for work. I could smell her perfume on him. You can hear it in her voice these days, too – she gets excited when she tells me she has to work late. What sort of person gets excited about that?’

  Flinders leaned forward and slammed his fist onto the table, and they jumped backwards. ‘A liar. That’s who. A liar.’

  ‘Why the charcoal? Why burn those men’s bodies once you’d dismembered them? Why not simply bury them?’ said Kay.

  An evil smile peeled back his lips. ‘Because she always insists on having barbecues in the summer. What a perfect way to use them. What a perfect way to serve them up.’

  Kay swallowed, fighting down bile, and she knew from the grunt Barnes emitted that he too was struggling with what they were hearing.

  Finally, when she was able, she raised her eyes to Flinders once more.

  ‘Do you mean to say you served her the remains of the men you murdered?’

  ‘No comment.’

  Kay gritted her teeth and pressed on. ‘The construction works at the hotel – that’s why you had to move the bodies in the pickup truck, wasn’t it?’

  He snorted in response. ‘They weren’t meant to pull down the old outbuildings until the end of the year. They said the expansion was on hold, so I was perfectly safe there. No-one would have known. I had all the time in the world. And then Bettina overheard someone talking in the reception area of the hotel and realised the demolition works weren’t on hold after all – only the construction was.’

  ‘Why did you steal the pickup truck?’

  He sighed, as if it were an inconvenience to have to explain. ‘Because my wife uses the car for work. I can only use it when she gets home. I cycle to the craft centre. I could hardly move a body that way, could I? Anyway,’ he said, contemplating a fingernail. ‘I knew Alan wouldn’t report it as missing. He’s been bragging for the past two years he hasn’t paid road tax for it, so he was hardly going to phone you up, was he? More’s the pity the suspension was broken though. I wouldn’t have lost the damn foot otherwise.’

  ‘Why did you use your wife’s car to transport Lenehan?’ said Barnes.

  Flinders’ eyes gleamed. ‘I thought she might appreciate the irony. Besides, it was easy. She was so tired from having sex with him that she was asleep within minutes of getting home. I si
mply took the car and drove back to the hotel where he was waiting for a taxi – there are so many ride-sharing cars around the area, he thought nothing of it when I turned up.’

  ‘Tell me about Bristol.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Bettina has confirmed she was sleeping with hotel guests while she worked there. What did you do with the bodies?’

  A sly smile stretched across his face. ‘No comment.’

  Kay leaned back in her chair and contemplated the man before her. ‘We have enough evidence to charge you for the murders of three men, and we will lay further charges once our enquiries are complete, Mr Flinders. Don’t you have any remorse for what you’ve done?’

  ‘I told you. They deserved it – they slept with my wife.’

  ‘You spared her,’ said Kay.

  ‘She’s mine. She belongs to me. No-one else.’

  ‘And yet she slept with all of them.’

  Flinders clenched his fists but remained silent.

  A few minutes later, the initial interview was over and Kay and Barnes stood outside in the corridor, shell-shocked.

  ‘We’ll conclude the interview once I’ve had a chance to discuss the charges with Jude Martin at the Crown Prosecution Service,’ said Kay, ‘but I’ve never met anyone so evil in my life. I mean, he enjoyed what he did to those men. And as for what he might have been doing with the remains—’

  Barnes ran his hand over weary eyes and sighed. ‘Any normal person would get a divorce.’

  Fifty-Five

  ‘Do you think she knew?’ said Carys as they watched Hughes lead Bettina away to the cells.

  ‘Yes. I do,’ said Kay. ‘I think she chose to ignore what was happening though. I think she probably thought it was convenient that those men disappeared without a trace.’

  They walked towards the stairwell, and back up to the incident room. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and Kay suppressed a yawn.

  ‘I wonder why she didn’t confront him about it?’ said Carys.

  ‘Maybe she was scared of having her suspicions confirmed,’ said Kay.

  ‘Or, she was scared he’d kill her,’ said Gavin.

  Kay pushed through the door, and made her way over to the whiteboard, her gaze flickering over the victims’ photographs while the buzz of activity around her continued.

  Sharp had written Patrick Lenehan’s name in the space beneath the large question mark she’d drawn after the discovery of the third body, and she realised that he had probably taken it upon himself to get photographs of the rings and belt buckle identified by the Irishman’s family with the help of the Cork-based Garda.

  On cue, the DCI peered out of his office. ‘Good, you’re here. Where’s Barnes?’

  ‘Getting a coffee from the canteen. He’ll be here in a minute.’

  ‘Let’s get the final briefing underway as soon as he gets here. I think everyone deserves an early finish, given it’s the weekend.’

  They waited near the whiteboard while their colleagues grabbed cans of energy drink from the canteen vending machine or coffee – anything to keep them going for the final throes of the investigation – and then Sharp gave a short whistle to gain their attention and gestured to Kay to begin.

  ‘I want to thank you all for your time and dedication given to this case,’ she said, making sure she made eye contact with each and every one of her colleagues. ‘I know some of you have young children at home and it hasn’t been easy with the hours we’ve been keeping, but it’s your efforts that have got us this result. You should be proud of yourselves.’

  A smattering of applause filled the room.

  ‘Derek Flinders has been charged with the murders of Clive Wallis, Rupert Blacklock, and Patrick Lenehan. From Monday, we’ll begin to work with the Crown Prosecution Service to ensure he receives the longest sentence possible when the case comes before the courts. We’ll also be working with our colleagues at Avon and Somerset to find out if he was responsible for the cold cases they have. Be prepared for a busy week, but in the meantime go home and enjoy the rest of the weekend with your families. Guv, do you have anything you want to add?’

  Sharp looked up from his notes. ‘First of all, to add to what Kay’s already said, this has to be one of the most harrowing investigations some of you have experienced in your careers to date.’

  He nodded at Debbie before he continued.

  ‘You all make a difference to this team, and I know you all talk between yourselves. But – and this is important – if the circumstances of these murders are troubling you, then seek help. It can be done anonymously, but for goodness’ sake don’t try to cope on your own, all right?’

  ‘Guv.’

  ‘Yes, guv.’

  Sharp put down his notes on the table behind him, then turned to face the room once more. ‘Now we’ve got that out of the way, I have an announcement to make. As you’re all aware, Kay and I have spent the last few weeks interviewing potential candidates for the role of Detective Sergeant. It hasn’t been easy, as we’re such a tight-knit group and it’s imperative we found someone who could fill the role with minimum disruption. I’m happy to announce we’ve found the perfect person for the job.’

  Confused, Kay swung around to face him. ‘We have?’

  He winked. ‘We have. Ian Barnes, congratulations on your promotion.’

  Kay’s shocked gasp was drowned out by her colleagues’ cheers and whistles as they crowded around Barnes.

  From his position next to the window, he caught her eye and grinned before wandering over to where she stood.

  ‘You sly bastard,’ she said, shaking his hand. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you’d changed your mind?’

  He laughed. ‘I wanted it to be a surprise. Besides, you’ve had enough to think about lately with this case.’

  ‘I’m glad you took the job.’

  ‘Me too. It would’ve been weird having a complete stranger join the team, wouldn’t it?’

  The team milled around them, calling out goodbyes and heading for the exit, and she glanced over Barnes’s shoulder to where Gavin and Carys were packing up their desks.

  He turned to see what she was looking at. ‘Do you think they’ll be okay? I mean, it wasn’t their fault Derek Flinders hoodwinked us all, but I’m not sure they realise that.’

  Kay watched Gavin patting Carys on the back as he opened the door for her and they disappeared from view. ‘Yes, they’ll be okay. They’re a good team, those two.’

  ‘Right, well I’ll be off, too. See you Monday?’

  ‘Bright eyed and bushy tailed.’

  Half an hour later, Kay steered her car into the late Saturday morning traffic and pointed it in the direction of home.

  She lowered the window and let the breeze whip at her hair, clearing the fog from her mind as she drove along the A20 towards Bearsted.

  She stifled a yawn. The adrenalin that had kept her going the past few days was rapidly wearing off.

  As she swung the car into the lane that bisected the modern housing estate from the older part of Weavering, she braked to negotiate the final corner and then sighed as she pulled into the driveway of her house.

  ‘Thank God. Home,’ she mumbled, barely managing to climb from the car.

  A spasm seized her aching back muscles. She’d treat herself to a long soak in the bath later. Somehow, she didn’t think she’d be able to keep her eyes open long enough to read a book afterwards.

  She turned her key in the lock to the front door and dumped her bag on the stairs.

  ‘I’m home!’

  Adam poked his head around the kitchen door, his face a picture of misery.

  ‘Before you say anything, I’m sorry, all right?’

  Kay’s heart sank, wondering what on earth had happened. All she wanted to do was kick off her heels, put on a pair of shorts and sit out on the patio with a very large glass of cold white wine.

  ‘What’s going on? What’s wrong?’ She hurried into the kitchen as he moved back to th
e worktop and held up a tattered collection of rags. ‘Hang on. Isn’t that the dress I was going to wear to Abby’s birthday party?’

  Adam nodded, his cheeks flushing as red as the fabric.

  ‘Misha got out. She ate the washing that was hanging on the line.’

  * * *

  THE END

  Other books by Rachel Amphlett

  * * *

  The Detective Kay Hunter series

  * * *

  Scared to Death

  Will to Live

  One to Watch

  Hell to Pay

  Call to Arms

  Gone to Ground

  * * *

  The Dan Taylor spy novels

  White Gold

  Under Fire

  Three Lives Down

  Behind the Wire

  * * *

  The English Spy mysteries

  Assassins Hunted

  Assassins Vengeance

  Assassins Retribution

  * * *

  Standalone titles

  Look Closer

  Mistake Creek

  Before Nightfall

  Afterword

  Dear Reader,

  * * *

  First of all, I wanted to say a huge thank you for choosing to read Gone to Ground. I hope you enjoyed the story.

  It’s been a while since Kay Hunter and her team have had to deal with a serial killer, and it was a lot of fun to write – and a tad gruesome, I’ll admit!

  The idea stemmed from walking through the Kentish countryside along the Pilgrim’s Way near Hollingbourne a couple of years ago and seeing a mysterious figure surrounded by smoke amongst the trees – it’s here I discovered the traditional method of making charcoal, and a new idea was born.

  If you did enjoy Gone to Ground, I'd be grateful if you could write a review. It doesn't have to be long, just a few words, but it is the best way for me to help new readers discover one of my books for the first time.