Turn to Dust

by Amphlett, Rachel

  Beside her, Adam kept his arm around her waist, both of them fighting a wave of emotions at being only a few metres away from where their baby daughter lay in a tiny plot decorated with fresh flowers.

  DCI Devon Sharp and his wife, Rebecca, stood to her left, heads bowed as the church minister intoned the final blessing while Ethan Archer’s coffin was lowered into the ground by six men wearing the distinctive uniforms and berets of the Parachute Regiment.

  Janice and Andrew Crispin from the veterans’ support group stood side by side nearest to the church minister, hands clasped together, their lips moving with the words of prayer that carried over the sound of rain pelting against Kay’s umbrella.

  As soon as she had been able, she had telephoned them with the news that her investigation was at an end, and that Ethan could be laid to rest.

  The couple had swept into action, locating Ethan’s old commanding officer and organising a fundraiser to ensure the man received a burial fit for a hero.

  ‘Amen.’

  Kay let out a sigh as the six Paratroopers stepped away from the graveside and saluted their comrade, then turned and marched a discreet distance away.

  ‘All right?’ Adam murmured.

  ‘It’s over,’ she said. She turned away from the grave as the minister shook hands with the Crispins and made small talk.

  The day before, she had spoken with Jeremy and two of the shelter volunteers about the arrangements for Shelley’s funeral.

  The woman’s mother had telephoned from Liverpool, suggesting that as her daughter had always had more of an affinity with the Kent county town than her family’s northern home, she should be buried in Maidstone. She would travel south when a date had been arranged.

  Kay and Adam had contributed to the funeral costs as soon as they became aware that Shelley’s mother was struggling to make ends meet, wanting to ensure that her daughter was laid to rest properly, when possible. They knew what it was like to lose a child, and Kay had wiped away tears as she’d listened to the woman break down with relief and thanks at the other end of the line.

  ‘Got a minute?’ Sharp raised an eyebrow and gestured away from the graveside.

  ‘Sure.’

  She gave Adam’s hand a squeeze, passed her umbrella to Rebecca and then ducked under Sharp’s as he began to walk up the hill away from the gathered mourners.

  ‘Harriet’s team finished processing the cellar under the slaughterhouse late last night,’ he said. ‘They found the girl’s feet in a corner under an old pillowcase. We think one of the people we rescued from the farm covered them up after Adrian threw them down there.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Kay under her breath. ‘According to Helen’s statement, Adrian said it was to serve as a warning to anyone else who was thinking of trying to escape.’

  Sharp hissed through his teeth. ‘And you say there’s video of him pushing Ethan out of the aircraft?’

  ‘Yes. He thought he’d deleted the file off his phone, but Andy Grey over at digital forensics managed to retrieve it. You know what he’s like – nothing stays hidden for long. Another of the captives we interviewed told us they were shown that video, again to frighten them into never trying to escape.’

  ‘Has he told you what he did with the other body? The man who Helen said disappeared when he got sick?’ said Sharp.

  ‘Not yet. I’ve put in a request for more manpower so we can get the underwater team to search the reservoir north of the farms, and there are two search teams working through the undergrowth in the nature reserve for any disturbed areas of land. We’ll find him.’

  ‘What about the aircraft?’

  ‘We’ve had a phone call from West Mercia Police this morning. They located it at Helen’s parents’ property in Shropshire. It hadn’t been taken out of the hangar since she flew it back there after Ethan was killed. West Mercia’s CSI team managed to find trace evidence of him being in the cockpit, and they found a fingernail lodged in one of the rivets on the wing – the poor man was clinging on until the end.’

  ‘What a way to go.’ Sharp faced the car park at the bottom of the hill while the mourners began to disperse, then sighed. ‘He tried his best to help them escape. He really was a hero, wasn’t he?’

  ‘He was, guv. That he was.’

  Kay walked back into the incident room an hour later, craning her neck to see past the stacks of archive boxes piled high on desks and chairs.

  Shouted instructions passed between officers on each side of the room as paperwork was gathered, reports signed off, and quality control checks completed to ensure that every single part of the investigation was correctly catalogued ready to begin the process of taking the case to court with the help of the Crown Prosecution Service.

  It would be months, maybe a year or more, before the boxes were retrieved in their entirety but the time-consuming procedure would mean everything could be located when the legal experts required it.

  The team had already diminished in size, a skeleton crew remaining where once an entire side of the building had been crawling with officers and administrative staff. Now, they had taken on other casework, other duties, and dispersed around the police stations of West Division.

  She paused next to her desk, checked her phone messages and then worked her way between two teetering piles of boxes towards the front of the room where a group of people gathered.

  Colourful balloons hung from the whiteboard below streamers that criss-crossed the ceiling tiles, and a variety of greetings cards lay unopened beside a selection of gift bags on a desk off to one side.

  Two tables had been dragged across the carpet and it appeared that Debbie had found a tablecloth left over from the Christmas party at the back of the stationery cupboard, along with the secret supply of beer, wine and soft drinks that was rumoured to be kept in a filing cabinet in Sharp’s office.

  The police constable had evidently paid a visit to the supermarket up the road as well, given the variety of party snacks that were laid out on paper plates and already half demolished by the hungry officers who turned to her as she approached.

  ‘Don’t stop on my account,’ she said, smiling as she helped herself to a plate and piled it with a selection of cheese, mini sausage rolls and sushi.

  ‘Where’s Sharp, guv?’ said Gavin, receiving a slap on the wrist from Laura as his hand hovered next to a pile of chocolate eclairs.

  ‘Oi, let someone else have some,’ she said with a laugh.

  Kay smiled. ‘On his way. He said he had to do something first. I’m sure he won’t be long.’

  ‘Are you having a beer, guv?’ said Barnes. He held up an unopened bottle of lager.

  ‘Can’t, I’m afraid. I’m on call until eight o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll grab an orange juice in a minute, don’t worry.’

  ‘Guv, you made it!’ Carys walked over, a glass of wine in her hand. ‘How was the funeral?’

  ‘It was okay, you know – as much as those things can be. The Parachute Regiment did him proud, and it was a nice service.’

  She paused as Sharp appeared at the door to the incident room, an enormous bouquet of flowers in his hands.

  ‘There she is,’ he said as he joined them, handing the flowers to Carys. ‘A small gesture from Rebecca and myself. Make sure you stay in touch, otherwise I’ll get into trouble with her.’

  ‘They’re lovely, thanks, guv,’ said Carys, her eyes glittering. ‘Oh my God, I’m off again.’

  ‘She’s been like this all afternoon,’ said Gavin. ‘You should’ve seen her when she was packing up her desk.’

  Carys wiped at her eyes, and smiled. ‘You promised you wouldn’t tell them.’

  ‘I lied.’ He laughed, and took her wine glass from her. ‘I’ll get you a top up.’

  ‘I daren’t read those cards until I get home,’ she said to Kay. ‘I knew I should’ve worn waterproof mascara.’

  An hour later the leaving speeches had been made, Sharp striking a balance between honouring Carys’s contribution
s to the team and regaling everyone with some of her early exploits as a probationary detective, while Kay favoured a retrospective speech that had the incident room erupting with applause as Carys held up her hand at the demand that she now talk.

  ‘Thanks, everyone,’ she said, her voice wobbling. ‘I don’t know what to say. I’m going to miss you.’

  ‘Give them hell!’ someone called from the back of the crowd.

  ‘I hope they know what they’re in for,’ said Barnes, enveloping her in a hug.

  ‘Just don’t go running out in front of any more trains,’ said Gavin. ‘And let us know how you’re getting on.’

  Laura stuck out her hand. ‘Thanks for everything, Carys. I know I only worked with you for a little while, but I’ve appreciated you looking out for me.’

  ‘Oh, come here,’ said Carys, and hugged the probationary detective constable. ‘You’re going to be absolutely fine, and you’re going to smash those exam results. Phone me if you need me, all right?’

  Laura nodded, and sniffed.

  ‘Shall I give you a hand with these?’ said Kay, picking up four tote bags laden with cards and gifts.

  ‘Please – oh God, there’s so much stuff,’ said Carys, juggling the bouquet and an archive box with the personal items from her desk.

  It took another thirty minutes to reach the car park, as every uniformed officer and administrative staff member in the building stopped the detective constable on the way through to wish her well in her new role.

  Finally, and to the taxi driver’s obvious relief, Carys climbed into the waiting vehicle while Kay stacked the bags on the back seat next to her.

  ‘Oh, Adam asked me to give you this.’

  She handed her an envelope, and watched as Carys turned it over in her hands, her face quizzical.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘He found the details of a local animal rescue place near you,’ said Kay. ‘That’s the adoption papers they ask everyone to complete. He figured that once you’ve settled into your new place, you could give them a call and perhaps find a cat – or another gerbil – to keep you company, and he said you can phone him if you’ve got any concerns.’

  Carys grinned. ‘I’m going to miss all the animals he brings home.’

  ‘You don’t have to live with them,’ said Kay, and rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, go on, otherwise you’re going to make me cry.’

  ‘Thanks, Kay. For everything.’

  As the taxi pulled out of the car park and under the security barrier, Kay waved until it was out of sight.

  She sniffed and then shook her head as she turned towards the police station. ‘That’s the end of an era, Hunter.’

  Her phone began to ring in her jacket pocket, and she glanced at the screen.

  ‘Detective Inspector Kay Hunter.’ She listened to the voice at the other end, and then began to run to her car. ‘Tell them I’m on my way, and make sure they secure the crime scene.’

  A sardonic smile crossed her lips as she twisted the key in the ignition.

  Life went on, and so did the need for justice.

  * * *

  THE END

  About the Author

  Before turning to writing, USA Today bestselling author Rachel Amphlett played guitar in bands, dabbled in radio as a presenter and freelance producer for the BBC, and worked in publishing as an editorial assistant.

  She now wields a pen instead of a plectrum and writes crime fiction and spy thrillers, including the fast paced Dan Taylor and English Assassins espionage novels, and the Detective Kay Hunter British murder mystery series.

  After 13 years in Australia, Rachel has returned to the UK and is now based in the picturesque county of Dorset.

  You can find out more about her writing at www.rachelamphlett.com.