The Runner

by P. R. Black

‘It is. It’s another coincidence that you show up, right around the same time this starts. I’m no conspiracy theorist, but you must admit it’s odd.’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with me. I found out who my father was, and I went to find him. It’s been a weird time.’ She looked away for a moment. She was tired, she realised. Go-straight-to-bed, don’t-even-bother-with-the-telly tired. Maybe it was all getting too much. There’s a girl’s skull down there, where the troll lives, she thought. I saw it. The last person to see her remains, was the person who killed her.

  When she closed her eyes, she could still see it. This was a different kind of death, not the kind she was used to. She’d had enough now.

  Tamm’s hand touched her forearm, briefly. He withdrew it when Freya looked up, and seemed discomfited for a moment, knowing he’d crossed a line somewhere. ‘Freya,’ he said, ‘there is a real danger now that whoever’s out there might come after you. I’m worried about you on your own. I’d love to tell you we could keep an eye on you, but as I said, we’re stretched to the limit. Is there a friend you can stay with, a distant relative, anyone?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m on my own. I have one living relative that I know of. I don’t think he’ll let me sleep on his sofa. Although I might be able to, in a day or so.’

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ Tamm said, tersely. ‘In the meantime, please be careful. I’ll give you my direct number if you need to talk about anything. If there’s any suspicion that anyone is acting strangely near your property, just call, Freya. We’re officially worried.’

  She nodded, taking his card. ‘I’ll let you know. That’s a promise.’

  ‘When did you put it together?’ he said, indicating the place where the police lights strobed.

  ‘About the bodies? This time, I didn’t. Glenn and Cheryl Levison seem to have done all the digging. They didn’t have anything more to go on over and above what you knew. The message that was sprayed in the cellar basement at the old slate mine. I knew as much as you. I wouldn’t suggest they were cleverer than you, of course.’

  ‘Nah, but you would like me to draw that inference. OK. I’ll give you that. But you should have called us, let us know. And Levison being involved is just strange. How did she get into it?’

  ‘Long story. She met Glenn, got talking to him. He told her about the clue our friend left. Decided she wanted to be involved. I’m sure there’s a conflict of interest, somewhere.’ Freya realised for a moment what she was saying – articulating a suspicion that she’d told herself not to reveal. ‘But it’s all above board. She’s slippery, but she’s smart.’

  ‘She is that. She seems invested in her client, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘Yeah. As she should be.’

  ‘Please be careful who you trust, and whose confidence you keep, Freya,’ he said. ‘I’ve never met your father, but I know all about the Woodcutter case. Whether your dad was the killer or not, there’s still someone out there who’s connected with this story. They might be killing again, they might be a copycat… who knows? When are you seeing your dad next?’

  ‘I had thought I’d next see him after he’s released… But he wants to see me tomorrow, apparently.’

  ‘You’re going to the prison again?’

  Freya nodded. ‘Don’t worry. If he says anything incriminating, I’ll tell you. If it turns out he is the Woodcutter after all, I’ll make sure he stays in prison.’

  Tamm’s eyes narrowed. ‘You have a doubt.’

  ‘Was that a question, or a statement?’

  ‘You seemed certain he wasn’t the Woodcutter, before. What makes you doubt him?’

  ‘I’m not sure what to think, any more. Look, it’s getting late, I’m tired, and I’ve told you all I know. Do you need me? Here, sorry?’

  A trace of a smile. ‘No, you can go. But we’ll be in touch. I’ve got a long night ahead. You take care, Freya. Remember what I said.’

  45

  ‘They’ve found them all? Or rather… you found them all?’ Gareth Solomon’s reaction was so scandalised that Freya had the queasy feeling he was putting it on.

  ‘I had help,’ she said. ‘But yeah. Whoever’s been leaving clues has been leaving them for me. So I want to ask you, directly – if you know anything about it, you need to tell me. Because I think the Woodcutter might come after me, now.’

  ‘If he does, he’ll have me to deal with,’ her father said, scowling. ‘I’ll be out… maybe in a couple of days. It could be that quick. But how could I have anything to do with it?’

  ‘I’m just asking. It doesn’t make any sense. There are too many coincidences for it to actually be a coincidence, if that makes sense. I was never much into conspiracy theories, but you could see how someone could apply a bit of twisted logic to what’s happening, and how things have happened. Do you know, I read on a message board that people think I’m the copycat?’

  ‘What makes you think it’s a copycat? Same guy, same MO, so far as I can see.’

  ‘We don’t know that for sure. If you’ve got a theory, spill it. Who do you think’s the Woodcutter?’

  Solomon sat back, and pondered a moment. ‘What I would be very wary of is some new, damning evidence coming to light, with these bodies. Something that ties me in tight to the new cases. Now that would be an amazing coincidence, wouldn’t it? Your conspiracy theory message board weirdos would get their teeth into that, and no mistake. And I wouldn’t put it past the police, whether they’re from twenty years ago or into the present day. They set me up. It happens. You better believe it.’

  ‘I do believe it. And I agree, it would be another amazing coincidence if they unearthed some new evidence linking you to the murders, just as you’re about to be released.’

  ‘That’s putting it mildly. I’m expecting it, to be honest. But at least I’ll get a little holiday in the meantime, before they find something to charge me with. Hey – you looking forward to court?’

  Freya hesitated. ‘I don’t think I’ll be going to court.’

  Solomon was dismayed. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I think I’m finished with all of this. Sorry.’ She sighed, and took a moment to compose herself. ‘I didn’t really think about what I was getting into, here. I guess that’s true of most big messes in life. I wasn’t thinking straight. I had an idea about what I wanted to do in life… about ten years too late. I never followed it up. I kept all my thoughts and all my ambitions to myself. I wasn’t sure I ever had any. Until the day I found out about you. Now I’ve taken a step into that world… I want out of it. So please. I know you can’t say anything to me.’ Freya nodded at the guards. ‘I know you can’t make a big confession, if there’s a big confession in you. But I will ask you – it’s a question you can answer in your head, and then you can decide how you want to act. OK? I need to ask you, though: if you know who the Woodcutter is, or you have a suspicion about who it is, then get in touch with the police. Use Levison. Use me. Use the governor. Use the big guy, standing at your shoulder there. But please tell someone. Put an end to all this. And when you come out… if you get the result you need… I don’t know if we’ll see each other, Gareth.’

  ‘Gareth?’ He looked genuinely aghast – little faking that, she supposed. ‘You said “dad” before. That hasn’t changed. I’m still your dad. And I understand how you feel about what’s happened. I don’t think I’d adjust to the bodies, this world, the one I see in here. It’s not natural for anyone. And as far as society knows, I’m a filthy murderer. It’s unnatural. So I would agree with you. Just step away.

  ‘As for our relationship… I understand. But try and imagine how you would feel, stuck in this dump, with sickos and perverts, and you hadn’t actually done anything. And then you find out that you had something in the world, something no one could take away… and she doesn’t want anything to do with you.’

  ‘It’s not that I’m rejecting you. It’s not that. I’m rejecting this situation. I’ll need to step away. Just for a bit. I… I g
uess I came out of my shell a bit too fast. I see my face in the papers. People want my voice on the telly, on podcasts, on audiobooks, God knows what. And I know now it wasn’t for me. It was never for me.’

  ‘So you go back into your shell?’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I don’t think the world is going to work like that. Not for my beautiful girl. You don’t have to get used to the world. The world has to get used to you. That’s one way to look at it. Being shy is one thing. Being invisible is impossible.’

  ‘You sound like a motivational poster at a gym. That’s a big reason I don’t go to gyms, incidentally.’ Freya pulled a tissue from her purse, and dabbed at her eyes. She frowned at the guard – a new one – when he stepped forward to peer at what she held in her hand.

  Solomon raised a hand. ‘Not trying to contradict you or belittle what you’re saying. Do what you feel is right. And when the time comes, if you feel like getting in touch, having a catch-up, talking on the phone… Do it.’

  ‘What happens when you’re released?’

  ‘I get naked and invent cocktails.’

  ‘Apart from that, I mean less important things, like… Where are you going to sleep? Do you have clothes? How are you going to eat?’

  ‘Levison’s handling all that, so put it out of your head. Don’t worry, I won’t be knocking on your door at midnight, demanding a bed, or anything like that. To listen to Levison’s plans, a place to sleep of my own won’t be a worry. A bit like life in here, now that I think on it.’ He tipped a wink to his own guard, who as ever, didn’t respond.

  ‘Think you’ll move around again?’

  ‘That’s a possibility. With a great big pay-off, I might get travelling. It’s a big world, and I want to see it. Do you know, I’ve driven the length of this country, and felt experienced and wise in the world as a result? In actual fact, I just got experienced at parking, and petrol stations. I guess some people get experienced at airports and fancy hotels and expensive luggage. But it’s not the same as travelling. Know what I mean?’

  ‘You never really explained that, did you?’

  ‘What? Travelling?’

  ‘Petrol receipts. The ones that link you to the abductions. By a lot of reckoning you drove past every abduction site, at the critical times. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘I don’t need to explain it. It’s all out there, in black and white. As I said – I was a driver by trade. Did long distances. If I was connected to the locations, then so were a lot of other drivers. Coincidence, not causality. And think about it – the petrol receipts. The alleged smoking gun, connecting me to the murders. If I was a multiple murderer, why would I collect receipts that put me in the killing zone? I’d have to be stupid, wouldn’t I?’

  ‘A lot of clever people are stupid when it comes to money. Maybe you just weren’t thinking straight?’

  ‘It’s a coincidence – that’s all. It’s not a very sexy line to take… You wouldn’t read it on a murder blog or a Sunday supplement deep dive into the mind of a killer.’ For these last words he put on the voice of a horror movie trailer narrator, disturbingly loud. ‘But it’s the honest, mundane truth. If they’d had any evidence showing I committed those murders, they would have hung them on me in a minute.’

  ‘That’s true, it’s totally circumstantial. But there’s one murder you are connected with. At the moment, it’s the one you’re guilty of.’

  ‘Well, that’s complicated, mainly down to Carol Ramirez.’

  ‘Yes.’ Freya closed her eyes; composed herself. ‘I spoke to her. She told me about you. What you were into.’

  Solomon shrugged. ‘Consenting adults.’

  ‘It wasn’t normal, though. “Dodgy” hardly covers it.’

  Now he looked uncomfortable. ‘What’s dodgy, really? I’m into women. One of them asks me to put her over my knee, because she likes it, I’ll put her over my knee. One of them tells me to put her knickers on, then I hope she’s packing strong elastic, because they’re on. I’ve never hidden that. That’s what I like. Women. And that’s it. I know it’s not very interesting. I know it won’t sell whatever newspapers still exist. But I’m a meat ’n’ two veg kinda person. That’s as delicately as I can put it to my daughter.’

  ‘She was on a death trip, wasn’t she? Carol Ramirez? And you facilitated it.’

  ‘I was gullible, with hindsight. To be fair, Carol Ramirez? I’d never have forgotten her. It’s a shame she was out of her mind. Women like that don’t come along too often. Know what I mean, lad?’ He grinned at the guard on his shoulder.

  The crudity was a deflection, and this irritated Freya. ‘But you found the body, didn’t you? Then you called Carol Ramirez up, and you spent some time in the woods near the body. Isn’t that right?’

  ‘That’s not the facts as I understand them.’ He blinked when he said it.

  ‘Then tell me the facts as you understand them.’

  ‘Carol Ramirez found the body, not me. That was never revealed in court, because she didn’t get near a court. Don’t ask me how or why. It did cross my mind she might be the Woodcutter, you know. Carol Ramirez calls me, brings me out to the woods. It turned her on, you see. Death. Being near death. I’m not sure what you’d call it… paraphilia? Something like that? I’m not sure. You’d have to ask her. God forgive me, I went to the woods with her, and we got up to all sorts, but I promise – I didn’t know there was a body around.’

  ‘So you were set up – and Carol lied?’

  ‘That’s it. I was very unlucky. People believe what they want. They still will, even if I walk in a few days. Another way of looking at it is that I was lucky in a way – lack of evidence hasn’t always stopped a conviction, in legal history. That applies to me. They could have done me for the lot. I’m lucky they only pinned one on me.’

  Freya took a sip of water. ‘How long before you finished with my mum, before you hooked up with Carol Ramirez?’

  ‘I’m not sure of the details.’

  ‘You answered that very quickly. Sure you don’t want to think about it a bit?’

  ‘That’s because I’m not sure of the details.’

  ‘Had you been seeing Carol while you were seeing Mum?’

  ‘It’s not impossible. But I don’t think so.’

  ‘Lots of women, then, right?’

  ‘Don’t be like that.’

  ‘Like what.’

  He bit the side of his mouth, then said: ‘Look. I’ll tell you about Mary Bain, if you want. The Mary you might not know so well. The Mary who existed before you existed. She was beautiful. I remember her, all right. You’ve kind of got her cheekbones, but not as pronounced. She had the most amazing face. I want to say big-boned, but that sounds like an insult. She was sculpted – could have been a model, easily. Something sad about her. A bit of an enigma. Seemed a little bit like you do now – a bit withdrawn into herself. No real family. Wary of people. The ironic thing being, she drew them to her. Not to say she was man-mad, or anything. When I say she drew people in, she drew everyone in. The older women loved her. Women her own age wanted to be her friend. She listened. And the old boys, my God, you saw some of them losing decades off their lives, when they came in at lunchtime with their dogs. Cologne behind the ears, flowers, even, you name it! She was lovely. What she saw in me… I couldn’t tell you, and she obviously didn’t tell you, either. We were attracted to each other. We had a summer together. That’s all I’ll say. A good summer. That’s all that needs to be said. Look… I’m sorry.’

  Freya was sobbing, now. The guard on her left swallowed, twice, in discomfort. ‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘You’ve said enough, now. That’s the final piece, really. I’ll maybe see you after the appeal. I’m sorry, Dad, I’ve got to go.’

  He got up; he protested. She didn’t listen.

  46

  Freya saw Glenn around twenty-four hours later, after she had fought a phalanx of press at her front door. She had taken her bike around the park several times, then took it through the side streets until she
was absolutely sure no one was following her. She contacted Levison, asking them to fire a warning shot through the press regulator. The lawyer had already told her in advance that this might prove productive, and certainly couldn’t hurt during the furore of the body discoveries.

  There was no contact from Mick Harvie.

  She had somewhat shame-facedly carried out what she called in her head a ‘fact-finding’ mission on Glenn, checking out photos on his social media. He’d mentioned a local more than once, an old-man hangout with horse brasses, dark-stained wood panelling and a very basic menu, somewhere he evidently enjoyed drinking alone in a corner alcove. There was a weeknight pub quiz he had gone to several times. The Mason’s Mark had seemed the best contender for the pubs around where he lived, and so Freya took a chance.

  It was just as it had seemed, even down to the elderly sunburnt red carpet, which, if it was a hairstyle, would have been a combover. It was quite busy, with a pleasingly mixed crowd. She drew some stares as she walked towards the bar, keeping an eye out for any alcoves. There had been several alcoves in the pictures she’d noticed on Glenn’s social media.

  She saw him beneath a painting of a horse being shod by a hunched, muscle-bound and slightly sinister figure, the shoe glowing with the colour of sunburn in a brazier, the whole scene flecked with sparks. It was rather good, considering. It couldn’t quite distract Freya from the scene unfolding below.

  Glenn was sat with the girl who had stormed into the restaurant. She stopped, and turned to leave. They both spotted her; the girl got up and walked over to Freya. She had a friendly expression on her face, which Freya didn’t trust an inch.

  The girl raised her hand. She was dressed in jeans and a smart white woollen sweater. She was pretty, Freya felt, with an odd pang that might have been either envy or shame, with high cheekbones, honey-coloured hair and eyes as blue as Freya’s were dark, but almond-shaped, and comely.

  Glenn didn’t get up, try to stop her, or do anything. He sat, seemingly frozen. Freya thought he might have been dead, in some ghastly twist, until he ran a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted.