The Descent (Detective Louise Blackwell)

by Matt Brolly

  ‘It’s not a threat, it’s a reality.’

  That Paul’s issues could be held against her had not really figured in her thoughts before. She wanted to find him but her main concern at that moment was for Emily. What would happen if Tania found out that he was missing with her niece? She reminded herself to call her parents the second Tania left and warn them not to speak to anyone. ‘Are you asking for information on this on-going investigation in lieu of holding off a story on my brother?’

  ‘That would be blackmail,’ said Tania.

  Louise shook her head. ‘It’s good to see you finally reveal your true colours. But something you may not know about me is that I don’t bend so easily. Print your story if you wish, I’ll take my chances. But remember, everyone will hear about this conversation. Everyone will know you’re not to be trusted.’

  ‘That is a shame, Louise.’

  ‘Stick to “Inspector”,’ said Louise, walking off.

  ‘Lou, a word,’ said Tracey, outside the block of flats. She was holding her phone and looked as sheepish as the journalist had.

  Louise pinched the bridge of her nose, her heartbeat returning to normal as she heard the journalist drive away. ‘What is it?’ she said, sounding shorter than she’d intended.

  ‘Sergeant Joslyn Merrick has been trying to contact you. She had my number from the last time.’

  Louise looked at the three missed calls from Joslyn, and the six missed calls from her parents, all since she’d been talking to the journalist. ‘Did she say what she wanted?’

  Tracey’s face was blank, which was never a good sign. ‘She thinks she may have tracked Paul’s location,’ she said.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  No one cared that they were trespassing. Although Amy had never been on the old pier before, she knew groups of teenagers had used the place on a regular basis over the years – only last year, a group had to be rescued after becoming stranded on the main part of the pier. Still, there was an illicit thrill to climbing up the stone bank of the jetty in the darkness being guided by the dim light from Jay’s torch.

  Amy was at the back of the procession, feeling very much like the elder statesman of the group as she helped Nicole keep her balance after she’d slipped on a wet rock. ‘Beats working at the café,’ said Nicole, looking happier than Amy could ever recall.

  With the tide drawing nearer, the sea breeze had picked up and a fine spray of water hit Amy as they congregated by the entrance to the main area of the pier on Birnbeck Island. A pair of battered wooden doors was locked, a thick spiralling chain held together with an oversized padlock. Amy wondered if this was an oversight on Jay’s part, only for him to produce a key. ‘Fortunately, I’ve been here before,’ he said, clipping the lock open.

  The hollow interior felt colder than outside. The six of them shuffled through the opening, Jay locking the door from the inside. ‘Through here,’ he said, guiding them to a larger, cavernous room. Air leaked through the cracks in the roof and battered walls, but it couldn’t mask the various smells of excrement, ammonia, and a deeper more visceral smell of petrol that filled the place.

  ‘They used to maintain the lifeboats here,’ said Jay, as he switched on a number of battery-powered lamps he’d arranged in a circle in the centre of the room.

  The others were scanning the area. ‘Look, you can get to the walkway through here,’ said Beatrice, prompting Nicole to skip over to see.

  The promenade part of the pier was in disrepair and shut to the public, the wooden boards rotten and unsafe. Beatrice tried the door. ‘It’s open,’ she said, pulling at the crumbling wooden structure. The outside rushed in, the sound of squalling seagulls and the lapping sea obtrusive in its intensity. Jay smiled and Amy saw a hint of impatience in his gesture. ‘Come now,’ he said. ‘We have much work to do.’

  Beatrice shut the door and they all took a seat in the circle, Jay’s magnetic call irresistible. ‘First of all, I’d like to welcome Nicole to our little group,’ he said, once they were all together. ‘I’m sure you’ll make her feel most welcome. She has joined at a very special time for us all.’

  The light from the lamps created elongated shadows in the hollow room. Jay’s face was only half-lit and Amy wondered why they were here instead of outside like on all the other occasions, in an open setting around the glow of fire.

  Jay stood and produced a flask of the Ayahuasca tea from his holdall. The smell of petrol was still rife in the room. As Amy sniffed the air, Jay held her gaze and she saw something she’d never seen in him before: doubt. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared but it threw Amy. She still wanted it over, was desperate to return to that special place where Aiden was waiting for her, but she needed to be sure. Excusing herself – ‘Need to pee,’ she said – she opened the doors at the front entrance while Jay prepared the tea for everyone.

  Door shut behind her, Amy peered along the promenade of the pier that appeared to stretch infinitely into the darkness. The lights from Worlebury blinked towards her through the shadows as if sending her a message. I don’t want to stop what is going to happen, she told herself, as she switched on the phone and located the policewoman’s number. Just in case, she promised, placing the phone back in her pocket in the certainty that it would only take one press of the button for the policewoman to know where they were.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Paul must have called her parents and triggered the tracking software. Louise tried to control her spiking adrenaline as she first called Paul – dead signal – then Joslyn. As the phone rang she received another missed call from her parents.

  ‘Hi, Louise. He activated the phone about twenty minutes ago. I called as soon as I received notification.’

  ‘You have a location for him?’

  ‘A sprawling caravan and camping site on the outskirts of Penzance. Just waiting on your say-so to approach. I’m about thirty minutes away.’

  ‘Thank you, Joslyn. I’ll get back to you shortly.’

  Her mother was in tears as she answered.

  ‘What did he say, Mum?’

  ‘He wasn’t making any sense, Lou. I think he’s in trouble.’

  ‘Think, Mum, what did he say?’

  ‘I kept asking him what was happening. I wanted to speak to Emily. He was incoherent, Lou.’

  ‘Okay. Listen, Mum, I need to hang up. I’m working with a team in Cornwall and they think they know where he is.’

  ‘And Emily?’

  ‘Yes, Mum, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’

  Tracey had been watching her and walked over as she hung up. ‘You should go. I can take this from here.’

  Louise rubbed her forehead. All they had was a last-known location for Paul. He could have left the campsite since calling and could be anywhere by now. But she should be the one who approached him. If Joslyn went in, everything would be on record. What was more, there was no way to know how Paul would react. It sounded like he was in the sort of state where he would be unable to judge his own actions. What if he struck Joslyn or one of her officers? And although she knew he would never intentionally hurt Emily, there was no way to tell what would happen.

  ‘I can’t walk out at this juncture of a murder investigation,’ she said to Tracey, as if trying to convince herself.

  ‘No one is going to blame you. You’re doing this for your family.’

  Louise didn’t share Tracey’s conviction. She’d already made too many mistakes. Finch and Morley were waiting for a final slip-up like this. She could already hear their argument: if she can’t even control her own family, how can she control a CID team?

  But what did it matter? All she could think of now was Emily. Tracey was right, she would never forgive herself if something happened to her niece because of her inactivity.

  ‘I want to be updated every step of the way,’ she said, getting into the car.

  ‘I promise, Lou. I’ll call as soon as we have any developments.’

  If Paul had put Emily in
danger, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. Over the last couple of years she’d forgiven him for almost everything but she wasn’t sure if their relationship could ever recover from this. How could she forgive him for treating her parents this way, for taking Emily away? She could accept his addiction was a disease but that didn’t excuse the decisions he was making. Taking Emily away was premeditated. He must have been planning it for some time. He’d willingly put her at risk and Louise couldn’t see beyond that as she drove along the back streets of town through Worle towards the motorway. She called Joslyn to ask her to monitor the caravan park, but told her not to approach Paul until she got there as she headed down the slip road on to the southbound M5.

  She’d only been driving for a mile when Coulson’s name flashed on her phone. ‘What is it, Simon?’

  ‘Sorry, I know you’re busy, Louise, but I thought you’d like to know. Amy has reactivated her phone and we have an exact location for her.’

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  The heat of Nicole’s body warmed Amy, the other woman’s closeness comforting. Jay hadn’t drunk anything. He was monitoring the group which was now spread out across the interior of the room, ready to help anyone who needed it. He was sitting on the other side of Nicole. Amy heard him, distant, whispering encouraging words to Nicole. At this dose – and sometimes at the higher dose – it was still possible to converse with the recipient of the drug. Nicole was murmuring something about shapes and numbers, reminding Amy of the first time she’d taken the DMT with Jay. It had been a special time as Jay had guided her, gently increasing the doses until she was able to push through. In a way, she envied Nicole for being at the beginning of the journey, but that was a distant concern now.

  Amy downed her tea and lay on her back, her perceptions sharpening as the drug filtered through her bloodstream. The effect seemed immediate. The usual vibrations shook her body and, as she closed her eyes to a world of kaleidoscopic shapes, she briefly wondered if the tea was stronger than normal.

  Sometime later, as the initial effects began to wear off, Amy sat up and looked around at the others, who were all sitting up in a kind of stupor. Amy caught a whiff of the petrol in the room once more, carried on the breeze, filtering through the holes in the shell of the pier, and worried if the fumes were somehow contributing to the exaggerated effect of the tea.

  It could be that she was tired, or her measure had been stronger than the others, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this after taking the tea. Jay spoke as Nicole roused herself, his voice thunderous in the hollow space as if a set of speakers had been placed in every corner of the cavernous room. ‘Shall we begin?’ he said.

  As always, the stories were the hardest and the most precious part of their time together. Amy had never been to group counselling before but from watching films and television she knew they followed a similar format. One by one they told the others their reasons for being there. Now that they numbered only six including Nicole, the stories were less wide-ranging. Beatrice told the group how she’d been abused by a close relative as a child, and the terrible life-changing consequences that had brought, whereas Lisa discussed her on-going health concerns: the continuous physical pain she had to endure and how she wanted to experience forever what lay beyond. After Rachael told her tale of being in care since she was born and her feeling that she’d never had any real family, Amy prepared to speak next. Jay had never shared and he never made new recruits speak on their first night.

  The tea had heightened Amy’s senses. The metallic interior of the pier building was in sharp focus, as were the faces of the group – Nicole in particular – that glowed from the artificial light of the lamps. Jay listened intently as Rachael finished her tale before thanking her for her contribution. Amy felt a rush of love for him as he turned towards her. She was ready to share her story for one last time and to take that final step, yet almost as if it was acting of its own volition, she felt her hand reach into her pocket and rest on the large call button of her phone.

  ‘Everything okay?’ said Jay, with such warmth and kindness it almost broke her heart.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said, lifting her hand from her pocket only after she’d hit the green call button.

  Chapter Sixty

  Louise cursed, louder than intended, Coulson still on the phone. She kept the car on the inside lane of the motorway, knowing it was three miles to the next turn-off. ‘How exact?’ she asked.

  ‘The signal is coming from the main area on Birnbeck Island.’

  ‘What?’ she asked, to herself.

  ‘I thought the place was abandoned?’ asked Coulson.

  ‘It is,’ said Louise. ‘But it doesn’t stop people going there.’ Security had been upped on the decrepit landmark since the savage murder of one of its caretakers the year before, but Louise imagined it was still accessible for those who wanted to reach it. ‘You’re a hundred per cent about this, Simon?’

  ‘I’m looking at a flashing red dot now.’

  ‘Her phone is still on?’

  ‘Yes. I know you’re . . . otherwise engaged at the moment. Do you want someone from here to call her?’

  Louise slowed for the towed caravan in front of her – which seemed to be going at least 30 miles per hour less than the legal speed limit – before pulling out into the middle lane with only a cursory glance. She should be the one to call Amy but still she hesitated. If she called her straight away she might realise her phone was being monitored. She had to give Amy time to make the correct decision herself.

  The turning to Burnham-on-Sea was only a mile away and Louise faced a tough decision of her own. She knew if she thought too hard she would see her niece’s face and would be unable to make an informed choice. She had to think logically. Joslyn was more than able to approach Paul. If he hadn’t been her brother, then Louise would have already sent her in. If he had to be arrested then so be it. Her priority had to be Emily now, and her niece couldn’t wait for her to make the three-hour journey down into Cornwall.

  But was that really the correct decision, or was she fooling herself? She’d made so many wrong decisions recently that it was becoming hard to trust her own judgement. Emily was a constant worry, probably more than she’d previously accepted. She’d mistakenly called Amy by her niece’s name back at the bedsit and she could see now that Paul taking Emily away had impacted her professionalism during the investigation. Surely everyone could see her mind was distracted and if she left for Cornwall now, her career could be over. Yes, the overtime mistake was a forgivable one but the whole investigation had been so sloppy. They’d had Chappell in custody and lost him. She’d been to Chappell’s house and not reported it. She wasn’t entirely to blame but others wouldn’t see it that way, especially if, after they’d just located a chief witness and possible suspect, Louise left for Cornwall.

  Switching on the embedded police lights on her car, spooking the vehicle in front of her which almost came to a complete stop, she sped towards the turning. It wasn’t only in the investigation that she’d made mistakes. The whole situation with Paul was a mess. Emily had told her she was going away and she’d missed it, and it pained her that her relationship with her brother had soured so much that she hadn’t known about his gambling debts. She wanted to scream but her headache was returning.

  She was going seventy miles an hour when she swung the car left to take the turning before calling Joslyn.

  ‘I understand, Louise. You’re making the right decision,’ said Joslyn, after Louise explained the situation. ‘I’ll find Paul for you and we’ll try and make it as smooth as possible. Hopefully we’ll get him into custody with no fuss. He can sober up and you can collect him. In the meantime, I’ll look after your niece. You get on with your work.’

  Louise felt a build-up of emotion threaten to leave her body. She thanked Joslyn, and surprised herself by crying for a full ten seconds before she circled the roundabout and headed back on the opposite side of the motorway
towards Weston.

  Farrell and Tracey were waiting for her in the car park next to Birnbeck Pier. Louise had been there before, the Pensioner Killer having left his vehicle there last year before his eventual arrest. Throughout the short journey from the motorway, Louise had veered from turning back towards Cornwall and calling Amy. In the end she’d done neither, Coulson having sent a location pin to her phone that still showed the flashing red dot marking Amy’s location.

  She checked her face in the mirror before leaving the car. Tracey moved towards her as she got out, mouthing the words, ‘Everything okay?’ for the second time that day.

  Louise returned the nod just as Farrell appeared. His eyes darted between Louise and Tracey but he didn’t comment. ‘The entrance to the pier itself is secured by large metallic doors. We’re trying to contact the security providers to get it open but we could cut through the lock if necessary. As you can tell, the sea is in so we don’t have any other means of getting to the main section of the pier,’ he said.

  Louise peered over the concrete wall of the car park. The sea was closing in, swirling beneath the crumbling boards and rusted girders of the pier’s walkway. She had first-hand experience of the pier’s instability, having walked its broken boards last year.

  She had no idea why Amy was here but it wasn’t safe and they needed to get to her as soon as they were able. Summoning Tracey and Farrell, she was about to call Amy when her phone rang.

  ‘Amy is that you?’ she said, the sound of Amy’s breathing audible.

  The response was static followed by the distant sound of a man speaking. ‘Get on to Coulson,’ she instructed Farrell. ‘I want to hear this clearly.’

  It was muffled but she could make out the man’s words. It sounded like Chappell but she couldn’t be sure. ‘Okay, Amy, when you’re ready,’ he said.