HE IS WATCHING YOU an Absolutely Gripping Crime Thriller With a Massive Twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘Be careful in there!’ Maddie called out. The building looked rundown — more a ramshackle shell than a building. She lifted her head to inspect the roof. The half that remained looked precarious at best. She could see a steel container on the left side of the floor space. It looked like it had been pushed in close to the wall. She couldn’t see the doors, they had to be on the other side, which suggested to her that it had been put there to get it out of the way rather than for any particular use or purpose. A few paces to the right of that was a metal bin. Its sides were scorched black, the lid came up to a funnel and it had holes punctured near the bottom. She recognised it as the sort of incinerator like she had seen used on allotments. Harry was standing over it, frowning.

  ‘Can you smell that?’

  ‘Yeah, smells like something’s been burnt. I reckon I know where the source of the smell is!’ She was joking. Harry ignored her. He moved towards the container.

  ‘It’s not smoke. I caught something on the breeze. Christ! It’s stronger over here!’

  Maddie turned to him. She had been looking down into the bin through the hole in the lid. It had been used — recently too, but there was nothing left that was identifiable. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Death!’ Harry growled back. He stepped out of sight behind the container. She could hear the sound of metal scraping. She got to him just as he pulled a padlock clear. He tugged the door. It looked like a struggle; he had to use all his weight. The door swung open, spilling out a thick cloud of flies as it did so.

  The smell washed over her like a wave. It was so pungent it was almost like taking a strike to the nose. She stepped back, lifting her hand to her face at the same time. ‘What the hell . . .?’ It was one of the most distinctive smells there is: rotting flesh. She took a step forward, suddenly feeling very unsure. Harry was in front of her but she could see past him. She braced herself.

  The container looked empty.

  Harry fiddled with his phone until it lit up as a torch. He directed the light into the space. Maddie was trying her best to breathe into her sleeve but it wasn’t stopping the pungent stench getting through. She peered around to get a better view. Harry’s light flashed around the inside. It settled on a marking high on the wall on the left side where the number 37 stood out in black letters on a white sticker. His light moved on until it stopped, settling on something small. Something that looked to Maddie like rolled up clothes — or a blanket, maybe — was heaped in a corner. Harry stepped in. Maddie stayed at the door. Harry had his hand over his mouth, too.

  ‘A fox,’ he called back. He sounded like he had been holding his breath. His words came with an expulsion of air.

  ‘Dead, right?’ Maddie managed.

  ‘Not for long,’ Harry said. She could see he was crouched down just a few inches from the animal. Big black flies swarmed around him and cast flickering shadows in his light. He lowered his face further and sniffed hard.

  ‘What are you doing? Making sure?’

  He didn’t reply. He swept the light around for a second time, studying the sides and the ceiling again. He looked unsure about something. She could still hear him moving around when she moved away, longing to take in a lungful of air that wasn’t contaminated by that stench.

  Harry walked over to her. She was resting on the bonnet of the car.

  ‘There is no worse smell on this planet, is there?’ she said.

  ‘No. It’s particularly strong.’

  ‘No shit.’ Harry’s eyes snatched up and she raised her palm. ‘Sorry, okay? I forget the no cursing thing.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem right. A dead fox might smell like that eventually, but it looks too fresh in there. There are maggot casings all over the floor, too. Too many.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘And how did it get in there? There are small rust holes in the corner that would explain the flies, but the fox . . .’

  ‘Animals are like that, right? They can squeeze themselves into the tiniest of places and then he probably couldn’t get out. It’s boiling hot, it wouldn’t have taken long for the creature to start chucking up.’

  Harry didn’t reply. He was still looking around. Maddie could tell that he wasn’t sure. ‘This doesn’t feel right.’

  ‘Was it locked?’ Maddie said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The padlock. You opened it easy enough. I assume it wasn’t locked?’

  ‘No, it was hanging open. But the door was shut. No way a fox was getting in there.’

  ‘Did you see how old Mr Fox copped it? Maybe someone was up here training their dog illegally. We used to get it up north in the rural bits — people training their dogs to catch foxes. They’d tear them apart. It was obvious what had gotten hold of them so they would hide the corpses — especially if they wanted to keep using the land. It must be prime up here for that sort of stuff . . . chasing foxes . . . hare-coursing. I bet it happens up here most nights. The gypsies are always looking for places out of the way to have a runabout. And Ron’s wife mentioned trouble up here with gypsies.’

  Harry bit his bottom lip. Maddie was quickly coming to recognise this meant he was contemplating something. ‘You could be right.’

  ‘Did that hurt? Saying that?’ Maddie chuckled. Harry’s face may have flickered a smile. She watched him move around to the driver’s door and pull it open. She took the hint and took up her seat beside him. The car moved straight off and they drove further into the estate.

  ‘Are we going to see the rest?’

  ‘We might as well. We’re here. I want to see what all the fuss is about with this land so I know what McCall’s are talking about.’

  Chapter 25

  Lorraine was awake again. Immediately her body flinched and contorted, as the panic of the moments when she was last conscious came rushing back. She had been fighting for her life. Her mind tried to spark her arms into movement, to raise them up to defend herself — to lash out. She couldn’t move them. The best she could manage was to flex her fingers. It didn’t matter. There was no one there. Not anymore.

  She tried to run back over what had happened in her mind. She remembered getting free. She had managed to sit up enough to run her hands over the metal walls. She had found a handle, something to get a grip on. She had managed to pull herself to her knees. She couldn’t make it to her feet. It had been dark and she’d been trying to feel for a way out. The door had opened up from nowhere. She didn’t know how long she had been kneeling there in the dark, pulling and pushing hopelessly against the cold metal. Then it just swung open.

  Her mind was still fuzzy — the memories, too. He was so angry! She remembered that. She’d been knocked backwards. Something hit her so hard that she had really needed to focus to stay awake. She could feel the daylight around her; she knew this was her only chance. She had fought to stay conscious. She remembered being grabbed. She remembered a blade — the knife! There’d been blood on it! He said something, too — he was so close to her face. He said that they were trying to stop him, but they wouldn’t. He said he would finish it. She’d closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow.

  It never came.

  She’d thought he had gone. She’d managed to roll onto her side so that she could see the door and she’d started to crawl towards it. She’d gotten halfway there by the time he reappeared. He had been grinning. He stepped in. She remembered seeing his foot swing. The last thing she remembered was accepting that this was it. That she would not be waking again.

  But now she could see a strip of bright light. Her eyes hurt. She couldn’t be dead. She felt the compulsion to blink but it was uncomfortable. Her eyes felt swollen; it was an effort to keep them open enough to see. She focussed on the light — different to the artificial light shining on her before. It ran in a straight line across the floor, like it was cutting the gloom in half. It was a few metres away. Sunlight! She yearned for it. She was naked. She couldn’t move her head to confirm it but she could feel the coldness of the floo
r. She prayed she wouldn’t shiver. It made her whole body tense up. It was painful, but the pain seemed lessened each time she awakened. It wasn’t a stabbing pain anymore; it was more a dull ache. The coldness, too, was no longer as harsh. All her senses seemed a little dulled. Certainly her eyesight seemed fuzzy, despite it appearing a little lighter and she could no longer hear the buzzing of flies as intensely as she remembered. The overpowering smell was gone, too. One thing she did feel was a constant breeze.

  She must have been moved. She concentrated. She thought she could remember moving, but only in flashes. She remembered a floating sensation with warmth all around her. The light was much stronger; she had needed to close her eyes to it. Then she was being rocked; it was gentle and she must have fallen back to sleep. When she woke up she was back out in the sunshine. She recalled glimpses of a beautiful house with a boarded window that made her think of a black eye. Then the warmth was gone. She wasn’t sure if that was her dreaming.

  She was on her side now. She didn’t think she was restricted anymore. She could see she’d been laid out on a stone floor, cold where it touched her skin. She felt the breeze again. It carried the scent of straw and animals and she had a sudden flush of happiness as she remembered childhood trips to her nan’s farm.

  She could feel the exhaustion coming on again. She was still trying to remember, still trying to sort her memories from her dreams. Something else had happened. A metallic sound — something had scraped over the floor. She remembered! A bowl had been pushed right up to her face. A metal bowl. It was like the one she had at home in her flat, left over from when she had a terrier — a muscly little bull terrier called Davo. Silly name. Silly dog. She smiled momentarily at the thought of him. She opened her eyes to hunt for the bowl. It was there! But it was further away. She didn’t understand how it had moved so far. The strip of light was directly over it.

  She remembered more. He had been here. He had dragged the bowl away. ‘It’s water, drink it,’ he had said. The voice had been gentle, like it was mixed in with the breeze. Then it had changed — just like that. Suddenly it was threatening, mocking, telling her she could have a drink but she would have to work for it. That metal, scraping sound again as it moved away. He said something about how he would be watching. She didn’t know why he was so angry — why was he so angry?

  She didn’t know anything. She was so confused and her mind felt so tired. She couldn’t fight off the exhaustion any more. She had to sleep.

  * * *

  Harry’s driving was much slower when they moved away from the barn and Maddie was thankful for it. The scenery became fields on both sides again. The track led downhill and they soon had an elevated view of a farmhouse that was surrounded on three sides by large barns. Harry stopped the car in the courtyard. They climbed out and stood still and silent.

  The house itself was large. Built from red brick and topped with a slated roof, it looked almost symmetrical, with tall windows at all four corners and a front door in the middle. Two of the barns were further away from the house than they had looked from a distance. The third barn was almost touching the house and framed the same courtyard. Its front was open and it spilled decaying straw, while the stone floor was covered in brown stains where animals had been recently. There was nothing to this place now. The door was boarded over, along with one of the windows on the ground floor of the house. There was also a double garage block, detached from the house and only noticeable now they were closer. It looked old enough to have served some other purpose and Maddie was pretty certain it had been converted from a much smaller fourth barn. This one was probably part of the original estate. Two garage doors stretched across two thirds of the frontage and the final third was taken up by a wide wooden door that looked original and didn’t quite meet with the bottom or the top of its frame. This door was locked by an oversized steel chain that looked new. She was drawn to it. The sound of her footsteps suddenly seemed intrusive against the gentle shushing of a huge tree that loomed over the garage, its drooping leaves brushing the pitched roof like they were offering it comfort.

  She rattled the chain. It was heavy. The padlock securing it also looked brand new. She pushed up close to where the wood didn’t quite meet the brick wall. The sunlight arrowed in through the gap and the sound of her feet scuffing on the ground echoed into the space. The beam of sunlight was the only light and she did her best not to block it as she peered inside. The beam illuminated some old tools that looked as if they had been simply thrown in a pile. She could make out part of a lawnmower against the far wall; some of its insides looked to be spilling out onto the floor next to it. Closer to her was a metal bowl, the sort you’d put down for a dog. It looked clean. She couldn’t tell if there was water in it.

  She stepped back. She could hear fidgeting, like a rodent of some sort, coming from inside. There were plenty of dark corners to be explored. It would be a rat’s paradise.

  Her attention was snatched to her left. A pigeon made a noise in the rafters of the big, open barn. It set off, its wings flapping, and it whistled as it flew away. Her eyes dropped to the decaying straw laid out on the floor of the barn. There was nothing left here — nothing of use, at least. She pressed back against the door. She fixed again on the dog bowl. Something about it seemed out of place — she couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was simply that everything else was old and broken and the bowl looked brand new, glinting in the sunlight. There were some other items on either side of it that she couldn’t quite make out. She pushed more firmly against the wood. There was at least a third of the barn that she couldn’t see at all. The slit was too small. From what she could make out, the barn looked largely empty. She batted away a fly that suddenly made for her through the gap. When she stepped back she felt her clothes sticking to her and became aware of her discomfort overall. The sun was beating on her back; she needed some shade at least. She considered calling Harry over. He might have a theory about the water bowl.

  ‘Come on!’ Harry’s tone carried frustration as he walked away from the boarded-up door. ‘We’re wasting our time here.’ Maybe he was feeling the heat too. Certainly there was nothing here that could give them any answers.

  ‘I could have told you that,’ Maddie mumbled into the gap so Harry wouldn’t pick up on it. ‘I’m not even sure what we’re looking for.’ She moved back towards the car. ‘It’s so peaceful down here. I don’t get why someone would move away. It looks like it’s just been abandoned.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem right,’ Harry agreed.

  ‘I can see why there are developers interested in it. I guess they’ll convert the barns and all sorts.’

  ‘That’s what they do.’ Harry was in the driver’s seat. Maddie got back into her side. They swung round to go back the way they had come. She took in the estate for a final time: the boarded-up farmhouse, the oppressive-looking chain on the outhouse, the barn that looked like it had once been full of life. She could see the potential of a site like this. Who wouldn’t want to live here?

  ‘Are we heading back to McCall’s? You said you wanted to talk to them again.’

  ‘It’s getting late. I wanted to speak to someone a bit higher up. There probably won’t be anyone there outside of office hours. I’ll go first thing tomorrow morning. Then I’ll check back in with the team around what they’re doing with your missing girl. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about her. I set a lot of actions. There should be a lot of work being done.’

  ‘Actions?’

  ‘We’ve got a standard response to high-risk missing persons. CCTV trawls, tracking bank accounts, speaking to friends and family and checking everywhere there’s been a sighting that is recorded on police systems. I’ve also arranged for all the pubs and off-licences in a five-mile radius to be flashed her picture.’

  ‘I had no idea so much was going on.’

  ‘The boss will expect a lot. But we do need to find her soon. In my experience, the longer this sort of thing goes on . . .’

  Maddie
swallowed hard. This job had brought with it a bad feeling from the start.

  ‘I thought you might have got them working on the hit-and-run job. I know it’s important to you.’

  ‘Ron Beasle is dead. He will stay dead. The first few days of an investigation are key, that is true, but compared to finding someone who might still be alive? I’d rather the team were looking for her. Once I’ve asked a few more questions of McCall’s tomorrow, I’ll be back looking for her too.’

  ‘I’ll come with you then. Just to make sure you do!’

  ‘As long as you haven’t got your own stuff to do?’

  ‘I don’t think anyone really cares what I’m doing. The guv’nor told me to work with you on the missing girl anyway.’

  ‘Fine then. Be in for eight and we’ll head straight up there. Depending on how helpful McCall’s are, we should be back looking for your girl by late morning.’

  ‘That sounds good.’ Maddie hesitated. She was hunting for the right words. ‘What are the chances, do you think? Of her just being on a binge and passed out somewhere?’

  Harry’s attention was fixed forward, back to negotiating ruts and bumps. They were near to the end of the track. He waited a few seconds until the tyres fell back on the smooth tarmac and he brought the Land Rover to a complete stop. He looked over at Maddie.

  ‘After this long? I’m not expecting to find her alive.’

  * * *

  She heard an engine. She couldn’t be dreaming, she could feel the breeze. It was still scented with farmyard animals. The noise must have woken her. Almost as soon as she had recognised it, the sound stopped. Then clunks, like car doors being pushed shut. She tried to scream. It was like one of those nightmares where you’re willing your body to do something but nothing’s happening. Her mind thrashed with frustration.