The Shadow Man

by Helen Fields

  ‘Excuse me, miss,’ a firefighter called to her. ‘Sorry, but we didn’t find the girl or the lady you were looking for. Got the male out, though.’

  ‘Fergus Arris, I heard. I don’t suppose you could describe him to me. I mean, if he wasn’t too badly burned or …’

  ‘Luckily he was up on the top floor, or he wouldn’t have made it. We nearly didn’t hear him, given where he was stuck.’

  ‘Is the property badly damaged inside?’ she asked.

  ‘The lower floor’s gutted. That’s where the fire started. There was evidence of the use of accelerants. The next floor up was beginning to burn as we arrived, but we saved some of it. The doorway into the upper flat was blocked, and one door had been broken down with an axe. The man you told us about was in the cavity between the second-floor ceiling and the upper-floor flat. His foot was wedged solid. We had to break through the floorboards above to get him out. Only heard him because he was hammering on the floor.’

  ‘He’s lucky you got to him in time,’ Connie said.

  ‘Especially given he doesn’t have the use of his legs,’ the firefighter said. ‘No way he’d have survived if we hadn’t got there as soon as we did.’

  Connie’s stomach clenched. She reached out and took the firefighter by the arm.

  ‘I thought you said it was Fergus Ariss, the homeowner.’

  ‘No, you said that. We didn’t get a name. White male, approximately thirty years of age. He was barely conscious by the time we got him out. Carbon monoxide poisoning and probable thermal damage to his lungs from inhaling hot smoke.’

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Connie said. ‘I didn’t realise … sorry, I have to make a call.’

  ‘Glad we could help.’ The firefighter began to walk away.

  ‘Wait,’ Connie said. ‘I need to see if there’s anything else in the property that might give me a clue as to the location of the woman and girl we’re looking for. Is there any chance I could go in, just for a few minutes?’

  ‘None at all. The structure’s considered unsafe until a full report is done. There’s still a heat problem, poisonous gases, and a lack of oxygen, and that’s before you consider the hazard created by all the water we just pumped in.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Connie said. ‘The man you just pulled out was abducted a couple of days ago. The woman and the girl have been missing longer, and we know they’re in immediate danger. If Xavier’s going to be unconscious a while, then the only evidence that might help us find them is going to be inside that building. I can’t wait the amount of time it’s going to take for it to cool down and be declared safe. I need a way of seeing inside, because if Elspeth and Meggy aren’t already dead, then they’re soon going to be.’

  The firefighter frowned at her. ‘What is it you’re looking for?’

  ‘I won’t know until I see it. I know that’s not helpful, but if you let me in …’

  ‘That’s not going to happen, but maybe we can find a compromise. Come with me.’ He led her to a fire engine and tapped someone else on the shoulder. ‘I need you to give this police officer access to the monitor. I’m going to hook up my headcam and go back in. I’ll get shots in as many rooms as are safe, but it won’t be clear. There’s a lot of blackening from smoke damage, and all the electricity is out. Here, put this headset on. We’ll be able to speak.’

  Connie considered correcting him about the police officer status he’d given her, then decided not to get in her own way. There’d be time for complete honesty later.

  ‘Right, I’m going in.’

  Connie perched on the footstep of a fire engine and drew in close to the screen. There was a delay of a minute while he got himself suited up again, then the screen showed a hallway, which looked like any other entrance corridor in any other home. There was what must have been a mirror, only now it had shards of glass hanging from it, but everything else was a darkened wreck. The discoloration didn’t bother Connie. Shades of grey were her specialty.

  ‘The ground floor is pretty much destroyed,’ the firefighter said. ‘I’m going up.’

  He avoided holding the bannister and took the wall side, taking the steps two or three at a time, carefully testing each with his weight before moving on up. Connie knew she had to phone Xavier’s whereabouts through to Baarda. There were family members waiting for news, even if that meant waiting to see if Xavier survived the smoke inhalation or not. But this was the priority for the next five minutes. Somewhere inside the building might be the charred remains of other bodies. She needed answers.

  At the top of the stairs, the firefighter put his head into another room. That was a bathroom. There was nothing other than the usual hygiene equipment and detritus. Nothing Connie could identify as specifically feminine.

  ‘Carry on,’ she instructed.

  ‘There’s a study ahead of us,’ he said. ‘I’ll see what I can find.’

  The study was less fire damaged, but the desk drawers were locked.

  ‘Can you break into them?’ Connie asked.

  ‘I’m afraid not. That would be a police matter with a warrant. There’s an old computer at the back here, but it’s not switched on, and I can’t do anything with it until power’s restored.’

  ‘All right,’ Connie sighed. ‘Carry on.’

  Entering the largest room on that floor, he directed his head-beam to the ceiling. ‘That’s where we found the trapped male, between those plasterboards and the floor above.’

  ‘I can’t believe he survived,’ Connie said. ‘Did you make that hole in the ceiling?’

  ‘No, that was already there. Must be how he got into the space in the first place. We broke through some other boards in the corner of the living room in the flat above.’

  Connie peered closer into the screen. There was little to see except a greying ceiling and a black hole, but the idea that any human being could be so desperate as to crawl into the space between floorboards and the ceiling directly below, knowing they might never make it out alive, was beyond comprehension. The fact that such claustrophobic horror could have been preferable to whatever awaited him in the open space was devastating.

  Pulling out her mobile, she began texting Baarda as she watched the progress of the camera around the room.

  ‘Xavier unconscious & in ambulance. Fire out but building badly damaged. No sign of E or M. Call asap.’

  There was a bed in one corner, with old blankets on it. No warm duvet or touches of comfort. A single bed, too. It was a big bedroom for a single bed. With it came the idea that the inhabitant had long since given up on the idea of sharing his house with anyone in the traditional sense.

  ‘Could you open the drawers and wardrobe for me, please?’ Connie asked.

  The head-beam swung around towards the largest item of furniture, and distant faces flew in and out of view.

  ‘Hold on. Go back.’

  The firefighter retraced his line of vision.

  ‘Oh, holy fucking shit,’ Connie whispered.

  The walls were alive. Frozen in time, but alive. Every inch was filled with faces staring out of Polaroids, photos, newspaper cut-outs, glossy magazine pictures. Black-and-white smiles, glances to camera, distant away gazes. Connie steeled herself against the desire simply to run inside and touch those photos, to drink in the information they contained.

  ‘Move in,’ she whispered.

  ‘What is this?’ the firefighter asked.

  Connie watched the faces sharpen into focus in the monitor. ‘It’s obsession.’

  Closer inspection revealed a theme. Of the thousands of faces staring out from the wall, each was female. Some might have been in their late twenties, the majority their thirties, the others in their forties but no older, each woman had a certain look. Difficult to reduce to a few words, but there was a kindness, a softness to them. Some shots had been taken in the home, others holding the hand of a child or two, maybe playing, plenty taken on beaches, or in gardens and parks.

  ‘They’re all mothers,’ Connie s
aid. ‘I need you to walk along that wall. I’m looking for two specific faces. Go slowly and stay about a foot from the photos. I need a good view.’

  Connie located Angela first. The shot had been taken while she was standing in a crowd of other adults, all lined up looking roughly the same way. Behind their heads, a climbing frame was just visible.

  ‘That’s a school playground,’ Connie muttered. ‘Look for other photos with that woman in, the one centre frame.’

  The head-beam shifted left and right, then paused.

  ‘These?’ he asked, his fingertip in view as he pointed at a whole section.

  There she was. Angela walking along the road ahead of her photographer, holding the hand of her daughter on the left and her son on the right. Angela shopping at some supermarket. Angela sleeping. Connie put one hand to her throat. Elspeth was there, too, somewhere.

  ‘You want me to show you the other walls now?’ he asked.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ she said.

  Directly opposite the wall of mothers was one filled from top to bottom with girls. Connie estimated the age range to be from eight to fourteen, all happy, wholesome-looking kids, some studious, others playing sport. All picture-perfect children. The sort you could have with your loyal, sweet, faithful picture-perfect wife

  Then Meggy. Coming out of school, getting into a car with her scowling step-mother. Meggy at the park, reading her book alone on a roundabout, looking wistful. Meggy’s bedroom window.

  ‘The other walls?’ Connie asked.

  He turned his direction left, where the bulk of the wall was taken up by a large wardrobe, but around its edges were photos of young men. They were largely in their twenties, varied in look and background, save for one section that was full of young men in wheelchairs. Xavier featured in several images, including a cutting from a newspaper. It made sense. Fergus had wanted a young man – for reasons best known to him – but not one who posed any physical challenge to him.

  Her mobile rang. ‘I need to take this call. Stay there,’ she told the firefighter.

  ‘Connie, what happened to Xavier?’ Baarda asked.

  ‘He was found trapped on an upper floor. Firefighters rescued him, but he’s in a bad state. He wasn’t talking when they got him out. The walls of one of the bedrooms in the house are literally lined with different images of people sorted into categories. It’s like a shrine.’

  ‘To what?’ Baarda asked.

  ‘To stereotypes. Mothers, daughters, and, I think, to …’ She looked back at the screen. The photos of young men were diverse, but they shared a common theme. Men playing football together. Men at a bar together, or collaborating over a project, building a shed together. Smiling, laughing, hugging, backslapping. ‘Friendship? Or perhaps to an idea of himself that never became a reality. A better, healthy, socially integrated version of Fergus, maybe.’

  ‘Was anyone else at the property?’

  ‘It’s empty now. Xavier had hidden himself. Neither Elspeth nor Meggy are here. I’m trying to find a clue as to where he might have taken them.’

  ‘Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll find out what vehicles are registered there and see if we can’t trace any recent movement on CCTV.’

  ‘Any luck finding Farzana?’ Connie asked.

  ‘Still none. The vehicle description vaguely matches the one seen at the school when Meggy was taken, but I know you don’t believe—’

  ‘I could have been wrong,’ Connie said. ‘Until I’ve had a chance to view absolutely all the images, we can’t discount any potential victim.’

  ‘All right. Do you have a name?’

  ‘Fergus Ariss, but he’s used other names in the past. He’s lived in this house for years. If he’s set fire to it now, he has no intention of coming back, and our chances of finding Elspeth and Meggy alive are diminishing by the minute.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Meggy kissed Elspeth on the cheek through the gag, wishing there was something more she could do to stop her pretend mother from groaning in agony. The car journey wasn’t helping. Every time they braked or took a corner, Elspeth would roll and then scream. Fergus had carried them out of the house one by one and dumped them in the boot of his car. At least they were still together. She had no idea what had happened to Xavier. If he was safe, then good.

  There had been a minute or two after they’d huddled together in the boot when Meggy had dared hope that Fergus was just going to leave them there and disappear. When the car engine hadn’t started immediately, she’d imagined him falling over and hitting his head, or getting electrocuted in the kitchen. Sooner or later, someone would wonder why the car had been abandoned. She was listening for voices, ready to bang her bound feet on the boot. Then the engine had roared the end note of her hopefulness, and they’d pulled out of the driveway.

  They’d stopped once since then, although he hadn’t opened the boot. It had been terrifying. More than when he’d first taken her. Even more than when he’d discovered her mid-escape, hanging above Elspeth’s broken body. Because now Meggy knew for sure he was intending to get rid of them. In the flat, they’d had a purpose. He’d wanted them to play house, acting all happy families. He hadn’t packed any of their stuff as they’d left. No spare clothes, toothbrushes, food, or drink. It was a one-way trip. All he’d had with him were a few papers, some candles, matches. And a shovel.

  She’d tried and failed to think of good uses a shovel could be put to. She might only be twelve, but all those horror movies and true crime stream on-demand programmes hadn’t passed her by. Shovels meant a long trip into the countryside, where a hole would be dug and the end, she hoped, would be quick and painless. Meggy didn’t want to watch Elspeth die first. That meant she would have to die alone, unseen, her cries unheard.

  She wanted to cry now, but she’d run out of tears. She hadn’t even known that was a thing. Meggy consoled herself with a daydream. Not of being safe in her mother’s arms. If her mother had stayed at home, chances were she’d never have ended up in Fergus fucking Ariss’ boot in the first place. Nor of her father, while she was sure he was terrified and beyond devastated right now. The fantasy that gave her the tiniest fragment of relief was more functional. In it, Fergus – exhausted from digging Elspeth’s and her grave – sat down to rest a moment.

  Elspeth might have been genuinely unconscious, but Meggy had been faking it. Until now.

  She’d found a piece of flint on the ground and worked at the ropes binding her wrists until they’d frayed to shreds. Pulling her hands apart, she’d freed her legs too, then lay down again and waited for just the right moment. Fergus, looking into the pit he’d created, would be standing still. He wouldn’t hear her coming as she approached across soft mud, rock in hand. He would turn at the last moment, though. She wanted the bastard to see what was coming to him, and to know it was her delivering it.

  She would smash that rock into his skull. It wouldn’t just knock him out, it would crash through his skull into his brains, and she’d be able to see the grey squish of his cells oozing out through his hair. Then she’d kick him down into that hole. He’d land on his back, dying slowly, as she used the shovel – his own shovel – to pile dirt on his face. Some would go into his mouth so she could hear him choking, then he’d try to scream, but his screams would be lost as the earth covered him. His eyes would still be open so he could see her as she shovelled more and more dirt …

  The car stopped again. Meggy tried to stay in the moment of the fantasy. No point rejoining the real world now. But a car door slammed, and Fergus’ footsteps were heading towards the boot. She shut her eyes, no desire to look him in the face again. What she saw there frightened her as much as it enraged her.

  Reaching in, he grabbed hold of the shovel and an old, thick black jacket. Meggy opened her eyes just a crack. Past him, she could see trees. The ground was grassy, and the smell of rain floated on the air. Birds who had no idea what horrors were occurring beneath their perches were singing. There wasn’t a sound otherwise.
No traffic, no voices. Not so much as an aeroplane above them.

  He whistled as he planted the shovel in the earth, untroubled by the rain. Earth flew, and the hole at his feet grew longer and deeper.

  Meggy wanted to look away but couldn’t. The rain pounded harder into the dirt and the sky darkened as he worked. Finally, he threw the shovel down at his feet and walked away into the shade of the thicker branches, then hauled something along the ground towards the car. Forgetting her previous attempt to play unconscious, Meggy couldn’t help but lift her head. Out of the undergrowth, along the slippery grass, Fergus dragged it. Constructed from pale wood, unmarked but green and mossy, the long wooden box was the end of Meggy’s rational thinking.

  ‘Made for two,’ Fergus called back to her. ‘Recycled, so it’s kinder to the environment. You and your mum can be together forever, and we can start our new life. This time, I’ll be able to pass on. I did everything I was supposed to on this earth. It’s time for my reward.’

  He lifted the box into the hole in the ground. Brushing the dirt off a nearby gravestone, he muttered a few indistinct words to an invisible entity.

  He lifted Elspeth from the boot of the car first, unconscious, lolling in his arms. Meggy heard the wooden thud of the woman’s head hitting the base of the coffin. By the time he came back for Meggy, she was already screaming into her gag.

  She screamed still as he closed the lid on the two of them.

  She screamed as he pounded a handful of nails into the top of the coffin.

  She screamed even louder as he began to shovel wet earth onto them in the deathly blackness.

  No one heard.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  When Baarda joined her, Connie was sitting in the rear of a police car with a box on her lap. The look on her face was enough to stop him in his tracks, several paces away.

  ‘Well, this place explains the mud-obscured number plate when he abducted Meggy Russell. It’s pretty much a farm track. Either the car was naturally dirty, or it was an easy option for him to dirty his car to avoid detection. There’s also not a neighbour in screaming distance. Couldn’t have chosen this house better myself. What’s in the box?’ Baarda asked.