by Kit Tinsley
‘He hates the press in general,’ Jason said. ‘And me in particular.’
‘Why?’
‘Pearce was well on his way to becoming the Chief Inspector a few years back,’ Jason said. ‘Until I did a story that uncovered that he was a bully, with a habit of beating up suspects in custody. There was an inquiry, that turned up nothing of course, but his superiors thought that there was too much bad press around him and he was passed over for the promotion. So he blames me for that.’
‘Did he do it?’
‘As far as my sources said, yes he did,’ Jason said, ‘Maybe I jumped the gun a little, though. I mean, I didn’t have any concrete evidence when I ran the story. I knew it was true, though, and I was just so desperate to nail the bastard.’
‘Why, though?’ Karl asked. ‘What have you got against him.’
‘P.C. Jon Pearce was the man I’m sure fitted up my father for that mugging.’
It all made sense now to Karl. Jason clearly blamed Pearce for his father’s death. After all, if he had not been arrested and wrongly convicted he would not have ended up dying whilst trying to break up a prison fight.
‘Hello, Mr Flynn,’ said a female voice behind them. ‘Inspector Pearce has sent me down to see you.’
They stood and turned to face her. The woman in front of them was naturally beautiful, with deep red hair and green eyes, yet she seemed to be trying her hardest to hide it. Her trouser suit, though smart, was badly cut and a little too masculine. Her hair was scraped back in the most basic of ponytails. And she wore no makeup. Perhaps she didn’t want people to think she had got where she was based on her looks.
Jason smiled.
‘Holly, please, call me Jason,’ he said then motioned towards Karl. ‘This is my good friend Karl Morgan, his brother is one of our many missing people.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Detective,’ Karl said, extending his hand.
‘Booth,’ she said, shaking his hand firmly. ‘Likewise, Mr Morgan. Believe me when I say we’re doing all we can to find your brother.’
There was a snigger from Jason. Booth shot him a look that could have cut glass. This silenced him, but soon the smile crept back onto his face.
‘How is the town’s most beautiful detective today?’ he asked.
‘Busy, tired and in no mood for your sexist attempts at flattery, Mr Flynn,’ she said.
Jason laughed.
‘You used to like my flattery,’ he said.
‘What’s this about Jason?’ she said in a weary voice.
‘Sit down, Holly,’ Jason said, ‘and we’ll tell you all about it.’
Jason and Karl walked back across the car park at the police station, heading towards Jason’s Peugeot. He had insisted on parking as far away from the main door as possible due to an out of date tax disc, a clerical oversight that he had not had time to rectify.
‘She seemed nice,’ Karl said, referring to Holly Booth.
‘Holly?’ Jason said. ‘Yeah, she’s lovely. An ex-girlfriend of mine; to be honest I think she still has a soft spot for me.’
Karl laughed loudly.
‘What?’ Jason asked.
‘Yeah that was clear from the general tone of disdain whenever she spoke to you,’ Karl said smiling.
At this Jason laughed.
‘That’s just an act,’ he said with a wink. ‘She works for my nemesis, and has to pretend to hate me for that reason.’
There was something in the wink that told Karl all he needed to know. Jason and Booth were more than just friends.
A uniformed officer with dirty blond hair approached them smiling.
‘Alright, Jason? How’s it going?’ The officer said.
‘Hi, Ben,’ Jason said. ‘Yeah, making progress. Thanks for the tip earlier.’
‘No worries, mate,’ the police officer named Ben said. ‘Hope it was of some use.’
‘Yeah, it was,’ Jason replied. ‘Don’t know what good it’ll do with Pearce running the case, though. This is Karl Morgan; it was his brother’s car.’
Ben nodded and shook Karl’s hand.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Karl said.
‘You too,’ Ben said. ‘I hope your brother turns up okay.’
Karl nodded.
‘Ben, here, is my mystery source in the local police,’ Jason said quietly, looking around to make sure no one was in ear shot. ‘It was Ben and his partner that found Phil’s car.’
‘Oh right,’ Karl said. ‘So why do you give Jason these tips?’
‘I love being a copper. It’s all I ever wanted to do,’ Ben said, ‘but I don’t agree with the behaviour of some of our senior officers. Besides which, me and Jason go way back.’
‘Ben is one of the few honest police officers we have around here,’ Jason said.
‘What about the one we just met?’ Karl asked. ‘Holly?’
Jason looked deep in thought for a few seconds.
‘Holly is a good person at heart. She wants to do the right thing, but I think she might be too wrapped up in Pearce’s business to be totally trustworthy.’
Ben looked at his watch.
‘I was due on shift five minutes ago, so I better get going.’
They said their goodbyes and Karl and Jason headed towards the distant car.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Karl knew where they were as soon as Jason pulled into the little car park. He had been down here a few times in his youth, but he had always hated it. The marsh, that strange area where sea and land meet in a constant struggle for dominance. His brother had loved the place. Phil would spend entire days roaming the marsh, sometimes with friends, often on his own. Karl had asked him once what his fascination was with the place.
‘I just feel at peace there,’ was the only answer that Phil could give. Karl didn’t understand how the place made him feel that way, but could understand his need for it. Peace was a precious commodity in this world, and if Phil could fine some out there in the brine sodden earth of the marsh then more power to him.
‘What are we doing here?’ he asked Jason.
‘This is where the girl went missing last night,’ Jason said. ‘The way I see it if all of these disappearances are connected, then by investigating one, we may shed some light on the others.’
It seemed like a reasonable assumption. Karl looked around and saw several other cars in the car park, and the Land Rover he had seen outside the Pritchard farm.
‘We’re not the only ones out here,’ Karl said motioning to the cars.
‘The Land Rover is Altman’s,’ Jason said. ‘He must have had the same idea.’
‘What about the other cars?’ Karl asked.
Jason shrugged.
‘I don’t recognise them,’ he said. ‘Probably dog walkers, the place is always full of them.’
They exited the car park and walked down the single lane road that led to the bank. Jason carefully opened the gate and then securely closed it behind them. It was something second nature in the country. The marsh, as with many other public walkways, had cattle on it. If gates were not closed properly then they could roam free, causing all kinds of grief for the farmers, not to mention the motorists who they walked out in front of.
As they started to climb the bank, they spotted Altman walking towards them. His ruddy face was beaming with excitement.
‘Jason, my boy,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘I was just about to call you.’
‘Hi, Charles,’ Jason said. ‘What’s up?’
The larger man waddled down the path towards them, his breath a little strained when he reached them.
‘I see you’ve come to track the beast, too,’ Altman said with glee. ‘He must be a hungry bugger. Two attacks in as many days.’
Altman suddenly remembered Karl. He hung his head a little, ashamed of the excitement he had shown.
‘I’m sorry, my boy,’ he said to Karl.
‘It’s okay,’ Karl said. ‘Did you find anything?’
‘Did I find anything?’
Altman repeated cheerfully. He searched his pockets and pulled out a small plastic bag containing dark hair. He held it up to Karl and then handed the bag to Jason. ‘I found this up there near the campfire the girl was last seen at.’
Jason examined the bag.
‘What is it?’ Jason asked.
‘I need to get it tested, but I think it may be fur,’ Altman said. ‘Panther fur.’
The joy was evident on his little pudgy face. He looked like a child who had discovered that Santa had brought every item on his Christmas list.
‘Really?’ Jason said.
‘I’ll need to get a better look it, under a microscope. I’ll also send a sample of for further examination. It looks promising, though.’
‘Excellent news,’ Jason said. ‘Keep me posted. Did you find anything else?’
‘Just the missing girl’s boyfriend,’ Altman said. ‘He’s hanging around up there. I think he’s hoping she’ll come back.’
‘We just found out there has been another disappearance today,’ Jason said.
‘Really? Where?’ Altman asked, with a little more excitement than Karl found tasteful.
‘Out at the Sampson farm,’ Jason replied.
Altman stared off in the direction of the Sampson farm, and then looked across to the woods in the distance.
‘That’s close enough to fit the pattern,’ he said.
‘What pattern?’ Karl asked.
‘Oh, just something I’m working on,’ Altman answered.
Jason handed the plastic bag back to Altman. They said their goodbyes and Jason and Karl carried on their way. For a while they walked in silence. Karl felt a little annoyed at Jason. When Altman had said that it could be panther fur, Jason had seemed almost as excited as the other man. Karl had managed to convince himself that Jason was doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart, and that the two of them were becoming friends. It was clear, though, the Jason was just desperate to prove his story right. He had said it himself; he just needed one big story to get him out of Darton, and what better story than proving the existence of a man eating big cat in the Lincolnshire countryside? What did that mean for Karl, though? If Jason and Altman were right, then his brother was more than likely dead already.
Karl stopped and stared out at the marsh. It sprawled out before them like an endless, flat wasteland. He was feeling anger - anger at the police for not doing enough, anger at Jason for trying to profit from his personal tragedy, anger at Phil for going missing in the first place, anger at his mother for driving their father away and always putting him second to Phil - but mostly anger at himself. He had been so desperate to get away from Darton, so desperate to stay away, that he had neglected the only family he had. If Phil was gone, there would be no chance for him to improve their relationship. He wished he could have his time over again; he would spend every spare moment he could with Phil, getting to know him.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Jason asked, a concerned tone in his voice.
‘Nothing,’ Karl initially lied. ‘Everything.’
Jason nodded. He walked over to Karl’s side and looked out at the marsh.
‘It’s like being on the moon,’ Karl said. ‘So far away from civilization.’
Jason nodded.
‘It’s pretty creepy out here at night,’ he said. ‘A few of the sightings have been down here, and a couple of the disappearances.’
There was an uncomfortable silence, Jason must have sensed what was wrong.
‘You do know that even if I’m right, Phil might be okay?’ he said.
‘If you’re right, I doubt it,’ Karl said, still gazing out to the marsh.
‘I’m not just here for a story you know?’ Jason said. ‘Yes, there’s a great story in all this, but I’m more interested in proving this thing exists to protect people.’
The words sounded genuine, and Karl thought perhaps he had been a little harsh on the reporter. Jason was right, if they could find Phil alive that would be amazing, if not at least they could try and stop the same thing happening to anyone else.
‘Come on,’ Karl said, starting moving again. ‘Let’s find this campfire.’
With that they set off along the bank.
Vera Pritchard stepped back out into the sunshine of the farmyard. She carried a basket of wet laundry to hang out on the line. Once upon a time this would have been a daily chore, back when Harold was alive. Every day he would be out working on the land or the machinery. He would come home covered in mud, or oil, or god knew what else. He would smell of sweat and power. Then there were her children, all grown up now. They had made plenty of dirty laundry for her. Now it was just her, and Miko, of course, but he didn’t need clothes. So these days it was a biweekly chore. She would wait until she had used up everything in her wardrobe, and then she would wash it all.
She wished she was closer to her children, especially Harry, he had been the first to abandon her. Harry blamed her for his father’s death. They had put all of the children through so much, but Harry was the most like his father. Her eldest son was a giant of a man with a vicious temper, and a cruel streak.
Vera knew where they were, and that they weren’t that far away. Many nights she had thought of getting in touch with them. She would have to speak to Harry first. If she could convince him to see her, the others would follow. That was the power he had over them. The same power his father had wielded.
Was it too late, though? Had too much time passed by in bitterness? She wasn’t getting any younger, and the time would soon come where things needed to be done. Vera had no one else she could rely on.
Hanging washing on the line was one of the jobs she loved around the house. The smell of the clean, damp washing as it began to flutter in the breeze was one of her favourite scents. It took her longer these days, her back was not as strong as she once was. Age was taking its toll on her.
She reached in the basket for the last few items, the clothes she had been wearing this morning. As she held them up she saw the faint trace of stains. Despite the pretreating she had done and how quickly she had got them into wash, they were still ruined. Damn it, she liked that blouse, but now it would have to go.
She threw them back in the basket, ready for burning when she next lit the incinerator bin. She headed back towards the house and noticed that Milo’s bowl was still full. Flies were buzzing around the raw meat. In this heat it would not take long for it spoil. That would not stop Miko from eating it, he seemed to quite enjoy it when the meat started to decay, but if it was left too long it would make him ill again. She remembered the last time, when he was much younger, she had spent several days at his side nursing him back to health. He had been unable to hold down anything, even water, for days. She had thought she would lose him, and that she would be alone. However after a few days he had started to pick up, and within a week he was stronger and healthier than ever.
She did not want to tempt fate, though; he might not be as lucky a second time. She picked up the bowl and placed it in the basket.
‘Not hungry, Miko?’ she said towards the outbuildings, thinking he was probably getting some shade inside one. ‘You’ve been snacking again haven’t you?’
She shook her head and headed off back inside.
Up ahead of them Karl saw a faint hint of black smoke emanating from the ground. There was the shape of a person sat on the floor next to it. They were hunched over, with their head bowed.
‘Over there,’ Karl said to Jason.
The young man looked utterly devastated. As they approached him, it struck Karl how perfectly he blended into the scenery, as though his own personal desolation mirrored the bleakness of the marsh, like emotional camouflage. The young man, not much more than a boy in reality, seemed unaware of their presence as if his despair had blinkered him from all else.
The two men looked at each other, silently discussing which of them should try and talk to him. In the end Jason stepped forward a little.
‘Excuse me?’
he said softly, like he was trying to wake a sleeping baby.
The young man didn’t react, he just continued to stare vacantly out to the marsh.
‘Excuse me?’ Jason repeated slightly louder.
The young man still showed no sign of acknowledgement. Jason turned to Karl and raised his eyebrows as if to ask what he should do. Karl shrugged, he had no idea.
Jason turned back and moved a little closer to the young man. He stretched out his arm and gently shook the young man’s shoulder.
‘Excuse me?’ he repeated as he did it.
The young man turned to face them, he looked pale, there were dark rings around his eyes, but the eyes themselves were shiny and pink where he had been crying. His expression was vacant and confused.
‘I thought she might come back,’ he said in a watery voice. ‘So I thought I’d better wait.’
With that he turned back to the marsh.
‘Are you waiting for the girl who disappeared last night?’ Jason asked.
The young man swung his head back round, a look of anger in his tear reddened eyes.
‘Her name is Julie!’ he snapped at Jason, then his voice lowered and filled with despair. ‘Besides, she didn’t disappear. According to the police she ran off and left me.’
Karl stepped up level to Jason.
‘Hi, my name is Karl Morgan,’ he said. ‘My brother disappeared the night before Julie. The police told me the same thing.’
The young looked at him, searching for any sign of dishonesty on his face. When he was satisfied there was none he spoke directly to Karl.
‘Did you believe them?’ he asked
‘No. No I didn’t’ Karl said shaking his head, he then pointed to Jason. ‘This is Jason Flynn. He’s a reporter for the local paper. We’ve been looking into these recent disappearances, and trying to figure out what’s happening. Would you like to help us?’
The young man looked at him, his eyes once more filling up with tears.
‘Will we find Julie?’ he asked pleadingly.
Karl looked to Jason. How could they answer that question? In his heart, Karl hoped that his brother was still alive and well, but he was intelligent enough to know that the evidence was stacking up to the contrary. He was holding himself together emotionally; somehow this quest for truth he was on was helping. He knew, though, that the young man in front of them was in far too delicate a state to deal with this prospect. They would have to handle him very gently, or he was apt to break.