The Descent (Detective Louise Blackwell)

by Matt Brolly

  When Amy did speak, the words were much clearer.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Amy had spoken the words so many times before, so why were they so hard to say this time? Was it because Nicole was there and didn’t know her history? Or was it because this would be the last time she told the tale? Maybe she was still fuzzy from the tea, but her words felt mangled in her mind and she needed to organise them before speaking. Her reasons for calling the policewoman were muddled but it gave her a strange comfort to know that she might be listening via the phone in her pocket; that there would be a record of what happened.

  ‘Aiden was a beautiful baby. He was so perfect. He had a shock of red hair, this perfect little tuft,’ she said.

  The group responded, positive and encouraging, and Amy felt Nicole’s hand stretch towards her. Her face was tilted in a quizzical look, as if her eyes were saying, I didn’t know you had a child?

  As Amy told her story, Nicole’s grip tightened until it became painful. When Amy reached the part where Aiden died, Nicole was in tears.

  ‘What? What are you saying, Amy?’

  ‘It’s okay, Nicole. Little Aiden passed away just before his fourth birthday. He had a heart defect. I didn’t know about it.’

  ‘No, no, I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry, Amy. You never . . .’

  Amy squeezed Nicole’s hand and continued. It was wrong that Nicole was here, that she had to hear these stories. Wrong too that she would have to experience what was going to happen to Amy afterwards. But there was nothing Amy could do about it; Nicole was one of the group now as much as anyone else there.

  Everyone – apart from Nicole – began clapping. ‘Thank you so much, Amy. That was beautiful. Thank you for sharing,’ said Jay, wrapping his arms around her again until she struggled to breathe. ‘Thank you, all of you,’ he said, letting her go. ‘You’re all so beautiful. Before we continue, let us remember our friends who have moved on. Victoria, Claire, Sally and Megan.’

  As everyone bowed their heads, Amy looked at Nicole. She saw the realisation dawn on her friend and wondered if she would get up and leave; and what Jay would do if she did. However, whether in shock or acceptance, she remained where she was sitting.

  Jay lifted his head and got to his feet. ‘Now, I know things have been strange recently and I appreciate you all sticking by me. Unfortunately, our hand is being forced. We know others would never understand what we are about. It takes a special person to accept DMT, to allow it to guide you to other realms,’ he said, pulling out a large leather wallet from his holdall.

  The intake of breath was audible as he opened the wallet to reveal six syringes.

  ‘Because of this, I have decided that tonight will be our last together.’

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Louise pressed her finger to her ear as Chappell stopped speaking, her energy all but gone.

  Despite her resolution to try and separate the personal and professional, she’d found it impossible not to place Emily into Amy’s story about Aiden. Emily had already lost one parent and was on course to lose a second if Paul didn’t sort his life out soon. If something happened to Louise’s parents, or Louise was unable to look after her, it wasn’t that much of a stretch to imagine Emily being taken into care or being adopted by another family. What if she moved away? What if Louise had to find out about her death in the same way Amy had found out about Aiden?

  She jumped as Tracey placed her hand on her shoulder, glad to be rid of the horrendous fantasy. ‘Did we get a recording of that, Simon?’ she said, switching into professional mode.

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Coulson, over Louise’s police radio.

  ‘Where are we on that caretaker?’ Louise asked Farrell, still trying to process what she’d just heard. Both Amy’s tragic story and Chappell’s last sentence: tonight will be our last together.

  ‘Should be here in ten,’ said Farrell.

  ‘Tell him to get here quicker.’

  ‘Boss. What do you think Chappell meant?’

  Louise was exasperated. Half her attention was still focused on Cornwall and she kept glancing at her phone for updates even though it was still connected to Amy. ‘I don’t know but I need those gates open as soon as possible.’ She didn’t want to come out with it, but to her mind Chappell’s statement meant one of two things. Tonight was going to be the night when he took his own life, or the night when he took Amy’s life and the life of whoever else was on the pier with him.

  ‘Come with me, Tracey,’ she said, walking to the two interlocked metallic doors. Louise peered through the gap in the lock, squinting as she made out the crumbling walkway fading into distant shadows. A nervous uniformed officer was standing by the entrance with a set of bolt cutters.

  ‘I’m going to go in,’ said Louise, signalling to the officer to break the chain just as she heard Chappell speak again.

  ‘It’s your decision as it always has been,’ he said, his voice distant. ‘Tell me yes or no now.’

  For a second Louise thought he was speaking to her. She lifted her finger as she listened for an answer. Almost in unison, a number of voices said, ‘Yes.’ How many she couldn’t be sure, but she’d heard at least three. ‘Now,’ she said to the officer, who grunted with effort, snapping the chain on his fourth attempt.

  Jay started with Beatrice. The group began chanting – ‘death is not the end’ – but something was amiss in the sound and rhythm, as if each of them were preoccupied with what awaited them. As Beatrice lay on her back, Jay began whispering into her ear before injecting her. Amy saw her body twitch as the DMT entered her bloodstream. ‘I’m through,’ she said, ninety seconds later.

  Jay lay her head down and moved towards Lisa.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Amy asked Nicole.

  The girl looked in shock. ‘Yes . . . Do I . . . ?’

  ‘No, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Nicole. And why would you? You have your whole life ahead of you. A family who loves you. This is all waiting for you anyway. Why not wait another seventy years?’

  ‘Who wants to live to that age?’ said Nicole, smiling, her eyes still red from tears.

  ‘What I mean is there is no rush. You took a full dose with Jay earlier?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So maybe you have an idea of what’s there but I wasn’t ready after the first time, or the third and fourth time if I’m being honest. It’s been a long process. I have a reason to go now, Nicole. You don’t. Please don’t take it if it’s offered to you.’

  Jay had already finished injecting Lisa and had moved on to Rachael. Not for the first time recently, everything felt rushed. Jay had said everyone would go tonight, but how? There was no cliff edge so did he intend to go to them one by one, and guide them through like he’d done with Megan? She wasn’t sure she could handle that. Her body would tell her to fight and even though it would only last a few seconds, the thought of the air literally being taken from her was unthinkable.

  But she didn’t have time to dwell any further. Jay was already next to her, appearing like an apparition. ‘It’s time, Amy,’ he cooed, and she lay back on the ground as if she’d been programmed.

  ‘You won’t let Nicole go?’ she said.

  Jay offered her his enigmatic smile and tapped her arm. ‘Your earthly worries will be gone now. Make sure you push through and say hello to Aiden for me.’

  Amy sighed as Jay injected her, warmth spreading through her body. ‘And you?’ she managed to ask just before she closed her eyes.

  Louise had to leap across the first row of obliterated boards. As she landed, a wooden panel cracked beneath her feet and she grabbed the slimy metal of the pier for balance.

  Farrell followed her lead as Tracey watched. It was an absurd time to be thinking it but she regretted not having Thomas with her. It seemed unjust for Farrell to be here and not him. She heard Amy’s exchange with a young woman by the name of Nicole and then Chappell. As he said ‘It’s time, Amy’, Louise wanted to sprint
the length of the pier to her rescue. Ten steps later she was grateful she hadn’t, her foot snagging on a rotten panel of wood that would have broken her ankle had she hit it at speed.

  They kept to the side railings, Louise pulling herself forward as fast as she was able. Beneath them, the brown sea was visible between the gaps in the planks.

  ‘Can’t see why this isn’t open to the general public,’ said Farrell, navigating a particularly treacherous hole in the wood.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she heard Chappell say in her earpiece.

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Nicole, who sounded as if she were crying.

  It was a false economy to move faster but Louise couldn’t help herself. Chappell’s and Nicole’s voices were distant and she couldn’t hear anyone else. ‘Tell Tracey to send the paramedics after us,’ she told Farrell, as she jogged along the promenade avoiding the pitfalls and crevices with darting turns and jumps until she was on the tarmac part of the pier, the small piece of land known as Birnbeck Island.

  Two steps in and the smell of petrol fumes seared her throat.

  ‘You smell that?’ said Farrell, catching up.

  ‘Tracey, not sure how you’re going to do it but we need the fire service down here. The place reeks of petrol and I don’t think it’s an accident,’ said Louise down her radio as a flicker of light caught her attention to her left. ‘Over there,’ she said, pointing to a set of battered wooden doors.

  They both took out their batons, Farrell standing to the side as Louise kicked open the door.

  ‘Lovely to see you again, Inspector Blackwell,’ said Chappell, as the two officers stepped through the opening.

  Louise coughed, the smell of petrol fumes now overwhelming. She wasn’t sure how Chappell could bear it. She counted five bodies, all female, lying on the floor. She moved towards the nearest body and bent down and checked the woman’s pulse. It was very high, at least 110, but she was alive.

  ‘Care to put that down, sir,’ said Farrell, nodding to the petrol can in Chappell’s left hand.

  ‘Certainly,’ said Chappell, the plastic can bouncing on the tarmac floor, clearly empty.

  ‘What’s happening, Jay?’ asked Louise.

  Chappell grinned, the glow of the lamps distorting his features. ‘I want you to know that this is your fault,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Jay,’ said Louise, trying to humour him.

  ‘You can stand back as well,’ said Chappell to Farrell. In his right hand he held a wet rag and with the other he produced a lighter. ‘I’m ready to go, are you?’

  A distant part of Amy heard the arrival of the police. It was a sound, a feeling that, in her current state, felt like a dream.

  She was beyond the physical world now, separated from her body. Many users said DMT was as close as you could come to experiencing death without dying and she agreed. The last few times she’d taken it she hadn’t wanted to return. She was separate from her body, could picture it lying on the concrete of the pier; and although she could hear and, if she opened her eyes, see, what was happening at the moment was on the periphery of her experience.

  Her reality now was the infinity of space in her mind’s eye, the shapes and geometries, and more important, the feeling of being here. The absolute love she experienced at that very second would be explained away in the physical world, but she knew it was real. Why then was she holding back? By now she would normally have completely surrendered to this world, but the sights and smells of the pier were still calling to her. It was only fear stopping her pushing through, but that was what she needed to do if she was to see Aiden again.

  But try as she might, she couldn’t completely let go and she began crashing back into her body, her lungs tight and filled with a deep and uncomfortable smell. She opened her eyes, gasping for breath, to the sight of her beliefs being destroyed.

  Louise would never know for sure how long the impasse lasted for. Her memory told her they stayed that way for an age – the only sound in the hollow shell of the building her increasing heartbeat and the rolling of the sea beneath their feet – Chappell with the lighter held up to the rag, Farrell standing next to her, poised to react.

  In reality it must have happened much quicker. Chappell didn’t give them the option of trying to negotiate or seek to explain his actions. Farrell ran towards him as Chappell lit the rag and although he reached him in seconds, it was too late.

  The fire spread in a mesmerising chain reaction, lighting the lines of spilled fuel in a sprawling inferno. Chappell ran towards the door, shoulders down, crashing into Farrell before he had a chance to defend himself.

  ‘Greg, are you okay?’ screamed Louise, who was already moving towards the woman lying five metres from her. She didn’t know if it was the noise or the fumes but she was the only one with her eyes open. Louise hauled her to her feet. ‘Run,’ she said, her stomach flipping as she saw the fire consume the other side of the pier completely, taking with it three of the women.

  Farrell was up and moving towards her but by the time she’d reached him, Louise could barely see in front of her face, such was the thickness of the smoke.

  ‘Please, you must get Nicole,’ said a voice.

  Louise reached out her hand, the woman she’d just pulled up still at her side. ‘Get her out, Greg,’ said Louise, coughing and spluttering as she moved blindly to where she’d seen another girl.

  Acid-like tears ran down Louise’s skin and briefly she wondered if the skin was being stripped from her features as she made contact with a limb. She knew there must only be seconds left before the smoke took her so she pulled at the leg. She wasn’t sure if her mind was playing tricks on her, but at that moment she was convinced it was Emily she was dragging through the black smoke.

  A jet of water rushed through the air and she wondered if she’d accidentally fallen off the pier into the sea below, only for a set of arms to take hold of her and pull her to the relative safety of outside.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  The fire service was still working on the pier as Louise came round. She was groggy from the smoke and didn’t know if she’d fallen unconscious, or how long it was since she’d been pulled to safety. She was propped up against the rail of the structure, cold air swirling around her. She tried to stand, only for a hand to be placed on her shoulder. ‘Emily?’ she muttered, before realising where she was.

  ‘Just rest now, Lou,’ said Tracey.

  Louise blinked, her eyes raging with pain from the black smoke that had covered every inch of her body. Only metres away, the fire was consuming everything in its path and she wondered how long the fire service could keep it from spreading to the main walkway of the pier.

  A paramedic sat next to her and placed a foil blanket around her shoulders as Tracey spoke into her radio.

  Louise felt as if she were hungover, her brain not quite with it as she tried to recall the last moments of what had happened on the pier. She tried to stand again as the image of Chappell holding the lit rag flashed before her.

  ‘Please sit, ma’am,’ said the paramedic.

  ‘Where’s Greg?’ said Louise, ignoring her.

  ‘He’s there, Lou,’ said Tracey, dropping to her haunches and pointing further down the pier where Farrell was sitting on the wreckage of a former bench. He lifted his hand and Louise had never been happier to see the wide grin that so often infuriated her.

  ‘I’m okay,’ said Louise, brushing off the support of the paramedic and getting to her feet. She took in a deep breath as if the sea air could clear the smoke sitting deep in her lungs. Tracey looked unsure but didn’t try to stop her. ‘The two women?’ she said.

  ‘One has been taken off to hospital. She was unconscious when they took her away but I think she’ll be okay. The other one is over there, next to Greg,’ said Tracey. ‘You should sit,’ she added.

  ‘And Chappell?’

  ‘We’ve got him.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Back in the van. He escaped unh
armed.’

  ‘There’s three bodies in there,’ said Louise, red flashing before her eyes as she tried to control the dizziness and panic.

  ‘I know, Lou. Farrell told us. It’s not safe to go in. They’ve tried. It’s not . . .’

  Louise looked away before walking over to the surviving woman, who was sitting on the walkway talking to another paramedic. ‘Louise Blackwell,’ she said.

  ‘I’m Amy,’ said the woman, forcing a smile on to her lips.

  ‘We meet at last,’ said Louise, sitting next to her with an inelegant thud. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, the simple motion of sitting draining her energy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Amy.

  Louise shook her head. She didn’t fully understand what had happened but didn’t think Amy was to blame. ‘You’re safe and that’s all that matters for now.’

  She might have fallen asleep at that point. As Tracey eased her to her feet once more, she felt as if she hadn’t spoken for minutes and Amy was no longer by her side. ‘Amy?’ she said to Tracey.

  ‘She’s fine, off to hospital. Just where you need to go.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Louise.

  ‘I don’t like to disobey orders, Lou, but this one time you’re going to have to do what I say,’ said Tracey, leading her down the pier to the waiting ambulance.

  This time she did sleep. One second she was being guided on to the back of an ambulance and reluctantly lying down on the gurney, the next she was awake in a hospital bed. The in between was a haze but she was glad to see she was still wearing the same clothes, even though the smell of smoke made her want to gag.

  ‘Good to see you’re back with us,’ said Tracey, pulling the curtain aside. ‘I have some fresh clothes for you, seeing as you were so insistent not to get changed.’

  Louise couldn’t remember any discussion of getting changed but didn’t comment. ‘Anything I should know about in my enforced absence?’