Finding Lucy

by Ernesto Lee

  As soon as she is out of sight, I move close in against the fence at the point where I think we entered the woods last night. Behind, it is heavily overgrown, but I can make out the faint outline of a path. More than forty years of rain and snow have left the chain link heavily corroded and with the help of my extendable baton, I am easily able to break away a large enough section for us to get through. I call out to Cath to come back to me and a couple of minutes later she reappears, and I point out the hole and gesture for her to go through first.

  “I decided to make my own gate, Cath. It looks like there was once a path here. Let’s see where it takes us.”

  Cath climbs through the hole and I follow behind her. Although it is almost fully daylight, the density of the trees means that the further we progress the darker it gets, and I curse myself for not bringing a flashlight. Cath offers to go back to the car to get one, but it will be lighter in the clearing and I tell her to keep going.

  “Let’s just go a bit further. It seems to be a bit lighter up ahead.”

  A minute later we are just about to step out into the clearing when we are both startled by a huge flock of birds that had been nesting in the trees above us.

  As they take to the sky, we both jump back and then laugh together when we realize how foolish we both look.

  “Bloody hell, Cath! That scared the fuck out of me. Not a word back at the office. I have a reputation to keep.”

  “That’s fine by me,” she replies. “I think I might have peed my pants just a bit. This place is creepy as fuck. It’s no wonder they put a fence around it. Mind you, nobody in their right mind would come in here willingly.”

  We step out into the clearing and I ask her what she thinks.

  “This looks as likely a place as any to hide a body, boss. It’s surrounded by trees on all sides and with that fence around the perimeter, I doubt anyone has been here in years. She must be here. Why else would he keep this piece of land and do nothing with it?”

  This is definitely the place where Lucy died. Any sign of the fire has long gone and like everywhere else it is heavily overgrown, but this is the only reasonably open space on this side of the forest. I tell Cath to look for any obvious signs of a disturbance in the ground or anything else that doesn’t look right.

  “Even after more than forty years, if there is a body buried here, then the ground might not be quite the same as the area around it. If we can find something that’s not quite right, then we might be able to convince Morgan to authorize a detailed search.”

  We have been searching for around five minutes, when Catherine calls me to join her. She has scraped back a patch of brambles to expose the ground below and I can see instantly that it is different from the area around it. The ground here has subsided slightly, which is a classic indication of a chamber or a disturbance deeper below. I kneel down for a closer look but am startled again by the same flock of birds taking off again from the treetops.

  By the time I am back on my feet, Catherine has already extended her baton and is pointing towards the trees.

  “There’s somebody in their boss. I only saw them briefly as I turned, but there’s definitely somebody there.”

  I ask Catherine to stay where she is and then I move towards the trees. As I get closer, the outline of a body becomes clearer in the shadows and I shout for the person to show themselves. When I get no response, I move to within ten feet of the watcher. They are holding something in both hands. By the time I realize what it is, it is already too late and what happens next takes me completely by surprise.

  From my left, a voice shouts a warning and a figure appears in my peripheral vision and pushes me away from the danger. At the same time there is a blinding flash of light and a deafening explosion as the firing pin strikes the percussion cap in the shotgun cartridge.

  As the muzzle smoke clears, I can hear my attacker retreating through the forest at speed, but Cath pulls me back when I try to follow.

  “Sean, no. That was only one barrel and you’re not armed.” Then pointing towards the ground. “Come on, help me with him.”

  My guardian angel is lying face down in the thick grass. His shoulder has taken the full force of the shotgun blast. Reassuringly, though, he is making enough noise to let us know he is still alive. Catherine reaches down to turn him over, but his hoodie is easily recognizable to me. Ben’s face is ashen, and his breathing is coming in short gasps.

  Catherine also recognizes him and doesn’t hold back her feelings.

  “You’ve got some bloody explaining to do, Sean. I hope to God that you haven’t got this boy involved in one of our investigations. What in God’s name were you thinking?”

  Seeing Ben like this has badly shaken me and Cath takes charge. She places Ben into the recovery position and then orders me to take his hand.

  “Get some pressure on that wound and talk to him, Sean. Don’t let him close his eyes or go into shock. Keep him talking while I call this in and get help.”

  Catherine turns away and runs back through the forest to raise the alarm. Ben is still conscious but has lost a lot of blood and is struggling to stay awake. My mind is racing with a million thoughts. About who just tried to kill me, about how to explain why Ben is here to Cath and Morgan, and about what I would say to Maria if Ben died. The last thought is unimaginable, and I focus my attention back on Ben.

  “Hang in there, mate. It won’t be much longer. I promise you, son, help is on the way.”

  His breathing now is heavily labored, but he squeezes my hand to indicate that he can hear me and then he tries to speak. His voice is low, and I tell him to keep quiet and save his energy, but he is determined to tell me something and pulls me closer.

  “What is it, Ben? I can’t hear you properly. Did you see who it was?”

  He squeezes my hand again and then takes a deep breath.

  “A priest, it looked like a priest. He was wearing a hat, but I could see the white of the dog collar.”

  In the distance, I can hear approaching sirens and Cath returns with the middle-aged man we had seen smoking earlier.

  “Boss, this is Mr. Peter Jackson. He’s the owner of Manor Farm Guest House. He thinks he might have seen the shooter.”

  I nod my acknowledgment to Cath and then turn back to Ben again.

  “Ben, this is really important. Are you sure it was a priest? Did you actually see him?”

  He is now barely conscious, but with the last of his energy he nods his head. I am about to ask where the help is when my question is answered. Two teams of paramedics accompanied by an armed response team enter the clearing. I leave Catherine to brief our colleagues while I follow the paramedics and watch as they load Ben into an ambulance. Shortly after, Catherine rejoins me and introduces me again to Peter Jackson.

  “Mr. Jackson, would you please tell my colleague what you just told me?”

  He looks a little nervous, but Cath reassures him.

  “Just tell us what you saw, Mr. Jackson.”

  “Well, I was inside when I heard the noise. I knew it was a shotgun – you get used to that sound in the countryside. I came outside for a look and the first thing I saw was a fella climbing through the hole in the fence.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?” I ask.

  “Not really, no. It’s a good distance and I didn’t have my glasses on. I’m sorry about that.”

  “That’s okay, Mr. Jackson. Did you see where he went?”

  “He ran off towards the north side of the woods and then I heard the sound of an engine. Not a car, though, more like a motorbike or a quadbike.”

  I look at Cath, but she is way ahead of me and confirms that she has already given this information to the armed response team.

  “They are also trying to get a chopper up to see if they can locate our suspect.”

  I thank Mr. Jackson for his help and then tell him to go back and wait in his guest house.

  “Please wait there until our colleagues get to you for a full state
ment. Thanks again – you’ve been very helpful.”

  Once he is out of earshot, Cath asks me if I am okay.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Sean.”

  “I’m fine, Cath. We need to get moving,” I reply. “If it was the priest, we need to get to Beckhampton before he can cover his tracks.”

  I turn to leave, but Cath stops me.

  “Hang on, boss, we can’t just leave. The uniform boys will need to speak to us, and you need to call Morgan to explain what has just happened. Before you call it in, though, how about you tell me what has just happened? What was Ben Pinto doing here, Sean?”

  “I really don’t know, Cath. That’s the truth. While I was in hospital, he came to see me a few times and told me that he was interested in joining the force. He asked whether I might give him some advice from time to time, but that’s as far as it went. I have no idea what he was doing here or how he knew where we would be.”

  Normally, Cath can read me like a book, but now she looks unsure of herself.

  “If I find out that you’re lying to me again, Sean, then this is the end for us as partners. You had better just hope Ben pulls through and that he backs up your story. You need to call DCI Morgan now to let him know what has happened. And what about Ben’s mother? I can call her while you speak with Morgan. This news is surely better coming from me, than from a total stranger.”

  I agree to her suggestion and then I call DCI Morgan. It’s only just after eight in the morning, but Kevin Morgan is an early starter and will already be in the office. After two rings, the call is picked up and Morgan’s radar is immediately alerted to something urgent.

  “DS McMillan, I take it by the early hour, that this isn’t a social call, or the case update I asked you for yesterday?”

  Over the next ten minutes I take him through everything that has happened since our arrival in Tyevale. He doesn’t interrupt, even when I tell him about Ben, but I know that he will be writing everything down. When I finish, he is unusually calm. He first asks about Ben’s condition and then he asks me what I want to do next.

  “We will talk more about Benjamin Pinto when you are back in London, Sean. But for now, and from what you have just told me, it does certainly appear that the Partington-Brown family and Father Beale are our main suspects in the disappearance of Lucy and in this morning’s incident. How do you want to play this? My advice would be to get the priest into custody as soon as possible and apply the pressure. Your witness is more than enough to justify reasonable cause and if he cracks, then you can go after the others. Until then, you need to tread lightly with the Partington-Browns, or we will have the Home Secretary all over us.”

  I thank him for his support and then I ask for a search team with ground-penetrating radar to search the clearing.

  “If you could give approval for that, sir. I’m convinced that this is where we will find her body. In parallel, my plan is to move to pick up Father Beale before he can disappear or dispose of any potential evidence.”

  Morgan agrees to both of my suggestions, but only on the basis that we have armed back up.

  “We nearly lost both of you once before, son. Don’t go playing the hero – that’s what those lads get the extra allowance for. Call me as soon as you have him in custody.”

  I thank him again and the call ends. Catherine has been listening in and nods towards the woods.

  “Local plod has taken over the crime scene and the scene of crimes officer is on the way. Shall I let the senior officer know what is happening and brief the firearms team?”

  Cath looks to me for my approval and I nod. She walks towards the forest, but I call her back.

  “Did you speak to her? Did you speak to Maria? How did she take it?”

  “She took it like any parent would. She was distraught. I did my best to reassure her, but how would you react if it was your son that had just been blasted with a shotgun?”

  I would react exactly as I had when I saw his face. I froze, which is totally out of character. Catherine must surely be wondering what the connection is. She doesn’t ask, though. The question will come sooner or later.

  “And how was it left?” I ask.

  “It wasn’t left any way, boss,” Cath replies. “But I would imagine that she is probably already on her way to Spalding, so I suggest you think carefully about what you are going to tell her. She is going to want answers and she is not the only one.”

  Without another word Catherine walks away and leaves me alone with my thoughts. I walk to the car and it is only when I get in to start the engine that I realize how badly my hands are shaking. There is no way that I can drive like this, so I get out and climb into the passenger side.

  Shortly after, Cath emerges from the forest with four armed-response officers. Two of them join us in our car and the other two, climb into an unmarked saloon. I am introduced to the team leader, Sergeant David Manners. As Cath drives, I give him a potted version of the case and what we know about Father Beale.

  The information is relayed to his colleagues in the vehicle behind and at just after nine-thirty in the morning we pull up and park about fifty feet from the entrance to Beckhampton Church.

  “Okay, DS McMillan, DC Swain, my colleagues and I will lead. You both need to remain at least twenty feet behind us at all times and if I ask you to stay put, you stay put. Is that clear?”

  I confirm it is and Sergeant Manners smiles.

  “Great, let’s go and catch a bad guy. Follow me.”

  The armed response guys separate into pairs either side of the road. Catherine and I tuck in behind Manners and his partner and after a suitable interval we follow them towards the entrance to the churchyard. Apart from a bus at the far end of the street, it is completely deserted. I watch as an elderly woman gets on and the bus drives away. When we are within twenty feet of the churchyard gate, the front door of a house on our side of the road opens and a young woman pushing a Baby Buggy steps outside. The shock of seeing four heavily armed police officers in this quiet residential street startles her and Catherine gently ushers her back inside.

  We continue on and, once inside the churchyard, Sergeant Manners directs Cath and me to take up position behind an elaborate granite mausoleum.

  “I need you both to wait here. Turn your radios to channel twelve so that you can listen in to our throat mics.”

  We confirm the radios are working and a few seconds later, Manners orders his men towards the church. Soon they disappear out of sight, but the running commentary from Manners is clear.

  “Armed police! Show yourself! You have ten seconds to comply or we are coming in.”

  There is a brief pause and then the instruction is repeated. When there is still no response the team prepare to move in.

  “Team one, prepare to move. Team two, hold and cover.”

  We can hear clearly as Manners and his partner move into the church and call out to Father Beale to show himself. The search of the church goes on for more than five minutes, before Manners finally gives the all clear.

  “Church is clear, moving to the vicarage. Team two lead. Team one will cover.”

  The vicarage is within sight of our hiding place and we watch as the two teams move into position. Sergeant Manners’ orders the second team forward and after they get no response to the mandatory challenges, the door of the vicarage is forced open and they move in.

  Seconds later, the radio bursts into life and the leader of team two comes online.

  “Suspect located, I repeat, suspect located. Urgent medical response requested. Sarge, you need to get yourself in here.”

  Manners and his partner are already up and running. We also break cover and run towards the vicarage door but are waved back by Manners’ partner.

  “Stand down, DS McMillan, you need to wait for the boss to give the all clear.”

  Reluctantly, we are forced to wait outside while the armed response teams work inside. After an uncomfortable few seconds of silence, Catherine is the fir
st to speak.

  “I bloody hope you are right about Lucy’s body, Sean. The pin is now well and truly pulled on that grenade we were talking about a couple of days ago and I have an awful feeling that we’re not going to be getting any answers from Father Beale. We need to find that body.”

  Before I can respond, Sergeant Manners appears in the shattered doorway and calls us forward.

  “I’ll warn you now, it’s not pretty. It’s definitely our man, though. There is a shotgun on the floor and there is an off-road motorbike at the back of the church. The engine is still warm. A few minutes earlier and we could have probably intercepted him.”

  Manners ushers us into the study and my nostrils are instantly filled with the smell of fresh blood. The body is slumped backwards over a chair and there is a shotgun lying at its feet. But for the fact that I can see the blood-soaked dog collar, it would not be immediately obvious who I was looking at. The blast of a shotgun at such close range is devastating and the top and back of his head is almost entirely missing.

  Catherine has her hand over her mouth and looks like she might throw up. I pull her away and Manners follows us outside. While we have been inside, back up has arrived and have started to cordon off the church.

  Word has quickly got around about the police presence and a small crowd has gathered at the gate.

  I ask Sergeant Manners about the motorbike and he points towards its location.

  “We haven’t secured that area yet, so please maintain forensic discipline. There is another team on the way to fully secure the location and the body.”

  The color has returned to Cath’s cheeks and we move away to find the bike, which is lying on its side at the back of the church. The wheels are covered in fresh mud and as I lean in for a closer look, I can feel the heat still emanating from the engine and the exhaust.

  “This has been ridden hard, Cath. He probably had around thirty minutes start on us, but even so, that is a hard ride across country. This is total bullshit!”

  “That’s why we’re the detectives, boss. Manners and his guys just see what’s in front of them. Is anyone seriously expecting us to believe that a seventy-five-year-old priest tracked us to those woods, took a pop at you with a shotgun and then hopped onto his dirt-bike for a cross country ride, before calmly sitting down and blasting his own brains out? This must be Joanna and Eddie. They are the only ones left alive that stand to gain from his death. We have to pull them in before this goes any further, Sean.”