HE WILL FIND YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘Dragged to hell!’ Sharon dipped forward in her chair to start a rocking motion. The tea she was holding rattled and shook in the saucer, the liquid slopping over the sides.

  ‘Here, let me take that.’ Maddie reached for the tea.

  ‘Oh God! Oh God, oh God, oh God . . . he said it would happen. He said that’s what they did . . .’ Sharon stood up and paced towards the windows with her hands on her head.

  Maddie put the tea down on the floor. She exchanged a glance with Harry then walked over to Sharon. When she put an arm around her, Sharon didn’t push her off. She might not even have noticed.

  ‘What did he say, Sharon?’

  ‘I don’t know! He was all over the place! It was all so messed up. I figured he was on something. I mean, I’ve known him to mess around with substances . . . a bit of coke when he was a younger — nothing recent — but he just wasn’t making any sense. At first he was so excited. He was passionate about this new thing he had going on. I’d never seen him like that before. But he wouldn’t tell me anything about it. He just kept saying that he was meant for better things and that I would see it for myself soon. He called it the left-hand path. He said he’d chosen it. What the hell does that even mean? It was like he was manic — I’ve seen that before . . . my brother . . . he was bipolar. His manic phases were just like that . . . everything was amazing and positive and incredible — and then it wasn’t. I thought it was that . . . I was waiting for Jarod to crash back down but he pushed me away, told me that he didn’t want me around anymore. But I knew that the crash would be coming. My brother . . . he used to crash hard. He never made it through the last one.’

  ‘You think Jarod was bipolar?’

  ‘I don’t know! Something was going on. It was such a change. He was self-harming, too — I’m sure of it. I thought I knew him. But the Jarod I knew would never do that. And the excitement did go — all of a sudden, too. But all that was left then was fear. I’d never seen Jarod scared, but he even told me he was. I never thought I would hear him say that.’

  ‘What was he scared of, Sharon? This is really important.’

  Sharon shook her head like she was trying to clear her mind. ‘He was involved with some group. It was all secretive and he would disappear for days, even weeks at times. He said he was performing tasks, that he needed to express his loyalty. Those were his words. I don’t know what the tasks were. He wouldn’t tell me. I did keep asking, though — that was when he said that we couldn’t be together anymore. This group . . . these people had totally taken over his life — became his life. He disappeared again for nearly three weeks then he turned up a few days ago. That was when he told me he was scared. He had a drink with me, too. Just a tot of whisky, but it was the first time I had seen him drink in six months. He told me that I needed to keep my head down. He said he was going away but no one could know that we had been together. He scared me, too. He made me remove every trace of him from my Facebook, Instagram — everything! He’d already deleted his own and he said that if anyone came to speak to me — no matter who they said they were or what they wanted — I should run.’

  ‘Hence your reaction today,’ Maddie said.

  Sharon jerked a nod. ‘He just kept saying how sorry he was. Jarod never said sorry! Not to me anyway. I asked about his hand — the self-harming . . . His bandage was soaked in blood.’ Her eyes were glazed now, her voice low and hushed.

  ‘His hand? What did he say happened to it?’ Maddie persisted.

  ‘He didn’t. He just said it was nothing. There was quite a bit of blood. And I could tell it was painful — he could barely use it for anything.’

  Maddie and Harry exchanged glances again. Maddie picked back up with the questioning. ‘What was the dragging thing you said? About being dragged to hell?’

  ‘When he was drinking, the last time I saw him . . .’ Sharon was suddenly overcome and Maddie could see the emotion sweeping through her. It was as if she had suddenly made sense of their message. The tears came thickly and they bundled down her cheek, leaving tracks to the corners of her mouth. She got herself together eventually, enough to speak again. ‘The last time I will ever see him! He said that he was too far in, that the tasks were different now and that if he didn’t do them they would punish him.’

  ‘Punish him how?’

  ‘Drag him to hell. That was what he said! Do you think this is what they meant? Did they drag him on that road? That was what you were going to say wasn’t it?’

  Maddie nodded. ‘Yes, we think someone did.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Sharon sobbed again. Maddie wrapped her up in a full hug this time. She felt Sharon grip her back then she tried words. Just mumbles into Maddie’s shoulder at first, mixed up with sniffs and snorts. ‘He came back to warn me. He had a new task. He said it was me! He said everybody who wants to join gets the same task — a final expression of loyalty. Cutting ties he called it.’ She pushed Maddie slightly away to make eye contact. ‘I was so scared. He was looking at me like . . . like he was considering it. I knew what he meant, when he said his task was me. He meant hurting me — or worse. He said he had to take photos of what he’d done and send it off as proof. I don’t know where to, but he took his phone out. I could see the screen was on the camera. He looked at me — the way he looked at me! All that I have seen him do . . . I know what he’s capable of, but I never once thought he would hurt me. But he was battling with himself, right in front of me and I couldn’t move. I just waited to see what was going to happen. Then he just ran. I didn’t see him again. I swear that’s what happened! I swear it!’

  Maddie wrapped Sharon back up and looked over her shoulder at Harry. He was rubbing his hand over his closely cropped head, backwards and forwards. Maddie had seen him do it before when he was deep in thought. She wondered if he was thinking the same as her: that filling in the gaps of Jarod’s life might not be as simple as they had hoped.

  * * *

  Jack was back sucking on a cigarette when Alyssa appeared. He was on his break, looking out over the bleak, grey loading bay at the back of his workplace with one hand gripping a metal bar that flaked both yellow and black paint. He swung his legs absently, his heels knocking against the concrete step.

  ‘Groundhog day!’ Alyssa said.

  Jack snorted his agreement but didn’t turn around. He heard her lighter sparking. He took another drag on his own smoke. He was already over his time.

  ‘Am I coming round yours tonight, then?’ Alyssa said. ‘I was kinda hoping we could have the same sort of night as we did on Monday. You know . . . before you went all weird!’

  ‘I didn’t go weird.’

  ‘I was joking! Shit, I was just trying to lighten it up a little. Forget about it. You didn’t reply to me is all. As long as you’re okay.’

  Jack stood up and slapped the dust from the seat of his trousers. ‘Sure, you can come round. But I do need to have an early night — and for real this time. No more weird people out of hours, I promise!’ He put on his best smile, which seemed to appease Alyssa. She burst into a wider grin and he felt her tap him on the backside as he walked past.

  ‘Maybe I get to stay over this time, too? I make a mean breakfast.’

  Jack slowed his walk. They had talked about it but he had never been keen. He wasn’t sure they were there yet. But he liked the idea of keeping her close for now, just until he knew what sort of danger she might be in, if any. Part of him also quite liked the thought of coming back to someone at the house too, especially as he had no idea what his task was to be tonight. There would be the problem of sneaking out, but there were ways to make that easier. ‘We’ll see,’ Jack said, ‘as long as you promise to behave.’

  ‘Definitely not!’

  Chapter 13

  ‘How is it?’ Harry gestured towards Maddie’s torso. She’d been lost in her thoughts over a steaming kettle in the kitchenette off the Major Crime floor.

  ‘Oh! It’s fine, really. I was just thinking that I’m glad she was rearrangin
g the cutlery and not putting the bread knife out!’

  ‘Yes, it could have been a lot worse. You’re sure you don’t want to be doing anything about it?’

  ‘No. I don’t think arresting her for assault-police achieves much, not all the while she’s talking to us.’

  ‘Well, I agree with you, but then I wasn’t the one jabbed in the chest with a butter knife. I hear she’s giving a very detailed account. Everything she knows.’

  ‘There might be something of use in there then.’

  Harry nodded. ‘One thing she mentioned . . . the left-hand path . . . I had a look at what’s available on the internet. It is a thing.’

  ‘A thing?’

  ‘Yes. Part of the occult. Not strictly devil worship. More a way of life.’

  ‘And I assume not a calm and peace-loving way of life? Maybe more of a dragging people behind cars way of life?’

  ‘You guessed it. And on that, I’ve put in a call to the national analyst team to see if this execution method is particularly prominent. They couldn’t tell me anything over the phone. They needed it via an official police email account. I’m expecting a reply today at some point.’

  ‘You think it might be the chosen method for this group’s members?’

  ‘From what I can see about this left-hand path nonsense, they’re big on symbolism. Jarod told Sharon about being dragged to hell. I can only assume his death was symbolic of that.’

  ‘Sharon was definitely thinking the same.’ The kettle clicked off. Maddie spun a clean cup from the bench and gestured at Harry.

  ‘Yes please.’

  ‘Black coffee . . . strong.’ She lifted a heaped teaspoon. ‘So I assume my theory is the same as yours at this point? We have a man who got mixed up in some occult group and to prove his loyalty he was given the task of what? Hurting his girlfriend? Then he couldn’t go through with it. He reported that back and they took it all rather personal.’

  ‘Cutting ties,’ Harry said. ‘As far as theories go, it’s as good as any.’

  ‘It’s the only one we have! Sharon also said something about Jarod having his phone out. Something about how he needed to take a photo. I guess that was intended as proof of what he had done. There’ll be a trail.’

  ‘There will. We didn’t find a phone with Jarod’s body, but Sharon gave us the number she has. I’ve put in an urgent request with the phone company, but I don’t think that will get us much further. Again, they wouldn’t say much over the phone, but they did say that it didn’t show any activity at all for months.’

  ‘Switched off?’

  ‘Must be. Certainly it’s not connecting to any masts. Nothing.’

  ‘So he wasn’t using that phone.’

  ‘Sharon said she saw him with a phone. She knew he had an iPhone and she assumed it was the same one. I think he just got another one.’

  ‘Or he was given one.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘He won’t be sending those pictures as text messages either, will he? There are a lot of messaging apps out there now with end-to-end encryption. Even your common or garden drug dealer knows to use one of those to run their business on.’

  Harry lifted his coffee to take his first sip. He pulled his lips back from the bitterness, ‘I agree.’

  ‘We’re not getting much further here. Anything from the searches?’

  ‘Not yet. So far they’ve identified almost thirty sites in the three square miles of countryside I asked for. And I was being conservative with that. They’ve put the VRD’s in first. They’ll be quickest, but the weather’s closing in. If we don’t get anything by sundown today it’s not going to be a line of enquiry.’

  Maddie exhaled. They were running out of options. VRD’s — Victim Recovery Dogs — could detect a spot of blood on a piece of open ground the size of a football pitch, but the conditions had to be right. She thought back to the injury to their victim’s hand. She’d hoped for some spilt blood if he was stationary, but his girlfriend had described a dressing. It wasn’t looking positive. She stiffened suddenly. ‘The injury to his hand . . . which one was it?’

  Harry looked at her over his mug. ‘The girlfriend said the left, but the preliminary report from our CSI states he had injuries to both his hands.’

  ‘He had injuries everywhere, Harry!’

  ‘He did. One of the wounds was deemed to be older than the other, I remember that.’

  ‘The left. The one that Sharon talked about being bandaged.’

  ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘Just that the symbolism might be significant, surely?’

  Harry looked like he was considering this for a second. ‘The left hand for the left-hand path. Branding or scarring would make sense, not sure about an open wound, though?’

  Maddie shrugged. ‘Maybe the wound in the left hand had to be fresh. So the devil would know. When he was dragged to hell I mean!’ She shook her head. ‘I may be clutching at straws there?’

  ‘Hey, I thought I’d find you in here!’

  Maddie jumped. She’d been lost in her thoughts of devil worship and open wounds when Rhiannon had walked in.

  ‘Kettle’s just boiled,’ Maddie said.

  Rhiannon waved her away. ‘No, thanks. I just wanted to let you know that the media appeal has gone out.’

  Maddie didn’t reply immediately.

  ‘For our boy with the blood?’ Rhiannon clarified.

  ‘I guessed that. Sorry, I thought there was more. That’s good. Surely we’ll get a lead or two from that.’

  ‘I’m quietly confident. Someone knows who he is and what happened. They have to.’

  ‘And I don’t doubt we have the right person in charge to find the answers!’

  ‘Technically you’re still in charge.’

  ‘That’s what I meant!’ The two women chuckled together. Rhiannon had been tense but seemed to relax a little.

  ‘Is it a full release?’ asked Maddie.

  ‘It’s on all the social media and the media team are contacting the nationals.’

  ‘I think it’ll gather momentum. I can’t see how this isn’t a huge public interest story.’

  ‘We’ve set up an information line. I’ll let you know if anything comes from that.’

  ‘Yes, please do.’ As well as overseeing the investigation, Maddie was also intending to offer her services to speak with the boy again later on. She felt invested in him. She wanted to know his story and to be part of making it better. ‘How are you getting on with our child psychologist?’

  Rhiannon smirked. ‘Famously.’

  ‘Sounds like you are having the same experience we did,’ Harry said.

  ‘I think my experience might be down to your groundwork. No offence, sir, but she doesn’t seem to like you much.’

  ‘People like that don’t like anybody.’ Harry’s growl was immediate.

  Maddie chuckled. ‘Harry Blaker just said that!’

  Rhiannon’s phone was ringing. She apologised and swept out of the room. Maddie watched her go.

  ‘She’s going to be a fine SIO one day,’ Maddie said.

  ‘She would have had a good mentor.’

  ‘That much is true! What have we got on this afternoon? I’ve got case review chasing me for a file upgrade on a not guilty plea. I know it’s only a matter of time before Jarod Logan takes over my life. If I can sit at my desk for an hour I reckon I could clear the decks.’

  ‘Go for it. I plan on going to see CPS anyway.’

  ‘Face to face?’ Maddie couldn’t hide her surprise. The Crown Prosecution Service was based at the courts these days and far less accessible. Gone were the days of knocking at an office in your own police station where a CPS representative would be sat, ready to assure you that your evidence was nowhere near ready for prosecution. Now their nearest base was at Canterbury Crown Court and the personnel there would only talk to you about cases at that court on that day. To have a face-to-face about a case that wasn’t live, you needed to go up to their office a
t Maidstone. Maddie had never been there herself; she had always been pointed towards secure email and phone lines. CPS had always made it clear that they didn’t hold meetings with the likes of her.

  ‘Face-to-face. I’m old fashioned. It still has some advantages.’

  ‘And they didn’t fob you off?’

  ‘I didn’t give them the opportunity.’

  ‘Which case?’

  ‘Trevelyan.’

  ‘The husband and wife rape case? How’s that one going?’ Maddie could guess the answer. Rape cases when both parties were in an intimate relationship were far more common than people realised, but were also notoriously difficult to get across the line. There was no other type of offence where the evidence was so flawed from the outset. Maddie had a real dislike for domestic violence offenders; they could make her angry in places she hadn’t known she could feel. The Trevelyan case was nasty, and the last she heard the husband looked set to walk.

  ‘It’s not going. I need to look someone in the eyes to get it kick-started.’

  ‘Well, good luck with that!’ Maddie chuckled a little, but she meant it.

  Harry checked his watch and consequently downed the last of his coffee. He squeezed back past her to put his cup next to the sink. ‘I shouldn’t be long. Though I might need more than luck.’

  * * *

  Harry felt bad about lying to Maddie. He knew that wasn’t how you operated in a partnership; you couldn’t, not when you both wanted the same thing. But this was to protect her as much as anything else. He shouldn’t be here. He knew that.

  It was just over an hour since he had left his office in Canterbury to head to Maidstone. He was in the right town to see CPS but that had never been his intention. Instead, he now had a tight grip on the handle of a very different type of entrance door, one he had been watching from the other side of the road for a while. It looked dirtier up close, its wooden surface scuffed, pitted and generally worn. It had been busy with people coming and going, but not for the previous ten minutes. This was as good a time as any.