The Stalker's Song

by Georgia Brown

  On the journey up to Newcastle, we were all subdued. Julia was quietly crying, cuddled into me in the back seat. The knowledge of the horror I’d gone through, was almost too much for her to bear. And it wasn’t over yet. She had to move to a new location, leave all her friends behind, abandon her studies yet again. Her whole life was in turmoil and both she and I were in terrible danger. How bad could it get?

  For myself, I couldn’t begin to think how I could ever come to terms with what had happened. I felt utterly degraded and hopeless. I prayed they would find Justin Green soon, so Julia and I could try to struggle back to some semblance of normality. I knew with certainty that there would be no peace for either of us while that man was walking free, probably still hunting us. I realised with a heavy heart that whatever happened, life would never be the same again for us.

  A thought occurred to me. ‘Gayle,’ I asked, ‘can I let Tim know that we have to go away? Not where I’m going, of course, but just that we have to disappear for a while? Otherwise, he won’t know what’s happened to me and I know he’ll be very worried.’

  ‘Tim? Yes, but that’s all you can tell him. You or Julia can advise the university, too. Don’t use your own phones, I’ll give you one to use. No phones or computers for now. He’d have no problem tracing you through your devices. Hopefully, it won’t be for too long, and then you can all start to get back to normal.’

  Kia was waiting for us at the safe house and she greeted us warmly.

  ‘Come on in, you must be exhausted. I’m Kia, your FLO. I’m here to help you settle in. Let me take those.’ She took my hastily-packed bags and put them on the small landing at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Do you want to look around?’

  With no enthusiasm, I traipsed around the house, followed by Julia and Fiona. It was quite small and impersonal. A tiny kitchen, barely big enough to squeeze in the three of us at once, old fashioned, but neat. A decent size lounge, with a small dining room off. The depressing decor was everything I hated – green flock wallpaper and rose coloured shag-pile carpet. Upstairs, three bedrooms and a tiny bathroom This was to be our home for the foreseeable future and it was a bleak thought.

  Kia stayed to get us settled in and told us she’d arranged for a doctor and psychiatrist to call the next day. A new Victim Support Counsellor was also to come the next day.

  ‘The house is fitted with sophisticated security systems, so you mustn’t worry about your safety.’ she told me. ‘And let me show you where the panic buttons are. You won’t need them, but they’re there to make you feel safe. The door has a spy-hole, triple locks and a chain. Never open it without first checking who is there. And if you’re in any doubt, don’t open it. Tomorrow, I’ll go over a few safety issues, but for now I think you should unpack what you need for tonight and get some rest. We’ve stocked the fridge and cupboards, so you won’t starve.’

  After she’d gone, with a promise to return in the morning, a wave of despondency came over me. I could see that Julia was deeply upset too. Fiona tried to be cheerful, but I could see her heart wasn’t in it. She, too, was facing a period of isolation and must have been feeling pretty disorientated herself.

  ‘Let’s just go to bed.’ I suggested. ‘Things might look better in the morning.’

  ‘Right. I’ll make some hot chocolate for us all and bring it up.’ Fiona had already checked out the supplies.

  Before we’d left the hospital, Dr Quayle prescribed anti-anxiety drugs for both Julia and myself. These were lifesavers and I don’t think either of us could have functioned without them. They helped to take the edge off things, albeit causing some drowsiness and feelings of being rather spaced out.

  That first night in the safe house, we sat on my bed in our pyjamas, drinking our hot chocolate, and talked for a while. I don’t think any of us wanted to be alone, but eventually exhaustion overtook us and with hugs to comfort each other, Julia and Fiona went to their own rooms. Once alone, I wept and wept, wondering how I was ever going to get through this. Eventually, I fell into a troubled sleep, peppered with disturbing dreams.

  Each day was an ordeal, something to be got through. Despite the medication, I lived in a constant state of tension and fear. I stared out at the bleak view of the unkempt back garden and barren fields beyond, and the knowledge that Justin Green was out there somewhere filled me with terror. At times it all threatened to overwhelm me. Kia told us that it was alright to go out, for a walk on the beach or to the shops, and reassured us that we were safe from him; that there was no way he could possibly know where we were. But I wasn’t convinced. On the odd occasion that we did venture out, mainly at Fiona’s insistence, I was paranoid, looking over my shoulder all the time and unsettling the others. Each time, it was an enormous relief to get back to the house and lock the door securely behind us. When the Victim Support Counsellor, a lady named Isabelle, became aware of just how frightened I was, she volunteered to come out with us each time, and this did help to allay my fears a little.

  My emotions were all over the place and I started suffering terrible mood swings, over which I had no control. Isabelle took me to see both the doctor and the psychiatrist twice a week, in an endeavour to stabilise me. My medication was adjusted, and somehow we managed to settle down into some sort of routine.

  Boredom was a big factor. Julia was fretful about missing her studies, and her friends. Fiona was worried about her mother and was still heartbroken about her father being murdered. The house was a cauldron of volatile emotions. Julia and I had huge rows which usually ended up with us screaming at each other over nothing. Anything could trigger a row, no matter how trivial. Each time it happened, we both felt remorseful afterwards and vowed it wouldn’t happen again. Until the next time.

  To add to our despondency, Kia was unable to give us any positive information about the investigation. There was no sign of Justin Green, despite a massive nationwide police search. Would they ever find him? Could we be stuck here forever? Surely not.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  Two weeks later, Gayle rang Kia, the acting FLO in Cleveland, for an update on Carol and Julia. Kia told her they were going stir-crazy and that their emotions were all over the place.

  ‘I think Carol is cracking up, quite frankly. And Julia’s not far behind her. Fiona’s doing her best to keep things as calm as possible, but I think she’s fighting a losing battle. Carol and Julia have nearly come to blows a couple of times, and I get the impression they’re not normally like this?’

  ‘No, they’re nothing like that. What help are they getting?’ Gayle was concerned. ‘I’d hoped they would manage better than this.’

  ‘I’ve got the doctor seeing them regularly; he’s keeping a close eye on them. They’re both on tranquilisers. The psychiatrist is also having twice-weekly sessions with them. The Victim Support counsellor, Isabelle, is a gem. She’s coming to see them every day until things improve. To be honest, Gayle, I think they could just about cope with the trauma of all that’s happened, if they were in their own home. It’s being in the safe house that’s getting to them. Being cut off from their friends and family. Unable to get on with their lives. They keep asking if any progress has been made in finding Justin Green?’

  ‘Well, as you know, nothing concrete so far. It’s a mystery. How can someone whose face is splashed all over the media, just disappear into thin air? We’re keeping tabs on his family in London, but so far he’s made no contact. He’s ditched his mobile phone. He’s not using his computer. We don’t believe he’s gone abroad, definitely not under any of the names he’s used so far. We’re checking every possible avenue, but so far, zilch, nada, nothing.’

  ‘Carol won’t be too happy to hear that.’

  ‘Well, she’ll just have to learn to be patient, I’m afraid. It’s still early days, and we’re fairly confident of finding him soon.’ Gayle didn’t feel as confident as she made herself sound. It had been two weeks since he went missing, and the longer it went on, with no positive s
ightings, the less chance there seemed to be of finding him. It’s always better if progress is made whilst an enquiry is new and fresh. The longer it goes on, the less chance of a successful outcome. The situation was less than satisfactory, but the whole team was still working on it and optimism was generally still high. She wished she could talk to Carol; she was sure she would be able to get through to her, but that was out of the question for now.

  They were getting a lot of response from the public. Justin Green had so far been seen in Southend, Aberdeen, Pontypridd, North, South, East and West London, Newcastle, Manchester and Leeds. Every lead was followed up, but had led nowhere, so far. Some people had even taken covert photographs of people they thought were Justin Green, but none had turned out to be him. Where was he? Was someone hiding him? If he was on his own, he’d have to emerge sometime, if only to eat.

  Hospitals had been checked, but there was no record of anyone attending with an eye injury. There’d been no activity on any credit or debit cards in his name. He was a wealthy man; was his money abroad? How did he access it? A few of the team were working on finding out what his financial arrangements were; trying to get a trace that way. There’d been no confirmed sightings of the car, but CCTV cameras at a petrol station just north of Leeds had picked up a light-coloured Peugeot filling up, in the early hours of the morning following the incident on the moor. The driver was wearing a cap, pulled down low, which obscured his face. The assistant remembered him buying pain killers and a coffee, as well as petrol, but couldn’t be sure that it was the same man as in the photograph shown to him. The car number had been circulated but no further sightings of it had been made. Was that Justin Green?

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  Tony and Sandy bumped along the track in their SUV, looking for the right spot. Sandy had opened his fly and had her hand round his shaft, which was now standing up proudly. He tried to push her head down there, but she laughed saying it was too bumpy. She was being thrown all over the place; he would have to wait until they stopped.

  By the time he found a suitably sheltered spot, well off the beaten track, he was bursting for it and they quickly scrambled into the back seat, where he pulled off Sandy’s jeans and tiny thong and entered her without ceremony. It was a quick, urgent fuck, but very satisfying.

  Later, they knew, they would make love again, taking their time and drawing out the sensuous pleasure, but meanwhile they had a picnic to attend to. Sandy had excelled herself, Tony thought, as he watched her unwrap roast chicken breasts, a lovely dressed salad with prawns and avocado and crusty rolls. A couple of bottles of his favourite beer, and a pack of profiteroles completed the repast. He loved these outings with Sandy at weekends – a chance to get away from their respective parents’ watchful eyes.

  Westlife was playing on the radio. ‘We had joy, We had fun, We had seasons in the sun...’ he sang, loudly, leaning over and tickling Sandy’s ribs.

  ‘Stop it, you fool,’ she laughed, ‘I’ll drop everything.’ She had spread a cloth between them on the back seat, and was putting out the picnic on to two plastic plates. Although it was a sunny March day, it was still too cold to eat outdoors, so the seat was to serve as their picnic table.

  They ate their fill, washed down with a bottle of beer each. Sandy was putting the detritus of their meal into a waste bag, when Tony shouted excitedly,

  ‘Look! A red squirrel.’ He was pointing up at a nearby spruce.

  ‘Where?... Oh, I see him. Isn’t he beautiful?’ Sandy was captivated. The squirrel began to move off through the trees. ‘Let’s follow him.’ With that, she quietly opened the back door and climbed out of the car. Tony caught up with her and together they stealthily followed the squirrel.

  ‘Look, he’s coming down the tree.’ Sandy pointed.

  They held their breath as they watched him nimbly descend the trunk and sit on the ground, not far from where they were standing. He sat up and wiped his whiskers with his paws, totally unaware of their presence. He was a beauty, with a huge, bushy red tail. Sandy, leaning forward to get a better view, stepped on a twig, which snapped loudly, spooking the poor thing. He raced back up the trunk and disappeared into the depths of the branches.

  ‘Oops,’ said Sandy.

  ‘Right, young lady. Back to the car with you... and when we get there...’

  Sandy laughed and ran off with Tony in pursuit. Trying to evade capture, he watched her duck low and push through some low-hanging spruce branches.

  ‘Tony! Tony, come here,’ she called, her voice coming from depths of the branches. There was an urgent note to it. He began to push through the branches, just as she emerged. ‘There’s a car under there,’ she said, gesturing to where she‘d just come from. ‘Strange.’

  ‘Is there anyone in it?’ Tony said, pushing through to take a look. There was something odd about this, he thought. The car looked abandoned; the foliage seemed to have grown around it. He peered curiously through one of the back door windows, then cupping his hands around his eyes, he looked closer, puzzled. ‘There’s someone inside,’ he shouted. ‘On the back seat.’ He knocked on the window, calling ‘Are you alright, mate?’ When there was no response, he opened the back door and immediately stepped back, gagging as the stench hit him full in the face.

  Sandy had come alongside him, ‘Oh my god,’ she yelled, tugging at Tony’s sleeve, turning to run. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  They turned and ran in panic. In their haste they couldn’t find their car. Sandy kept muttering over and over ‘Oh my god, Oh my god,’ as they frantically searched for the place they’d left it.

  Eventually locating the car, they scrambled inside and Tony retrieved his phone and pressed 999.

  ‘No bloody signal,’ he muttered, putting the key into the ignition and revving the engine. ‘We need to get out of the forest.’ He quickly reversed and turned the car round, before driving at speed back up the rutted track.

  ‘Slow down,’ yelled Sandy, ‘we’ll hit a tree!’ She was being shaken all over the front seat, and was frantically trying to fasten her seatbelt. Eventually the car emerged from the trees on to a slightly wider track, then after a few more minutes, on to something resembling a road.

  Tony jammed the brakes on and the car screeched to a halt. Sandy, who’d been unable to get her seat belt fastened, was thrown forward and banged her head on the windscreen.

  ‘Tony, for fuck’s sake,’ she screamed.

  ‘Sorry hun,’ his hands were shaking as he picked up his phone again. This time he got a signal and when he was put through to the police, said ‘I want to report a body. I’ve just found a body. In Kielder Forest. It’s in a car.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

  ‘Sir?’ Gayle was hurrying along the corridor. ‘Sir?’

  Chief Superintendent Jensen, turned enquiringly.

  ‘A car’s been found, sir... in Kielder Forest. A large pale grey Peugeot. There’s a body in it. And the body of a female in the boot. It’s been there for some time according to the local police. They’ve secured the area. I’m hoping it’s Justin Green.’

  ‘It certainly sounds like it. Good. Well, let’s hope it’s him. That would draw a line under the whole thing. Are forensics there?’

  ‘All in hand, sir. It’s DCI Mayne’s day off today. I’m on my way up there now to see if I can ID the bodies,’ she grimaced. ‘Not looking forward to that.’

  ‘Let me know when you get back and I’ll call a briefing. It’ll be good to put this one to bed.’ He walked on, then turned, ‘By the way, Gayle’ he said, with black humour ‘don’t forget to take a mask.’

  Gayle collected Georgia and together they got into the car and headed for the A1. Her mind was busy, working out the likelihood of it being Green. If, indeed, the body was that of Justin Green, it would bring tremendous relief and closure, to Carol and Julia. Not to mention Charlie, who would finally be able to bury Pauline. And, it would draw a line under the investigation. Case satisfactorily r
esolved.

  ‘Why do you think he would be in Kielder?’ Georgia asked, as they drove along. ‘Assuming it’s him, of course.’

  ‘I’m just thinking that through, Georgia. We’re not sure it’s him yet, but I think it’s got to be. Especially with the body of a woman in the boot. If I recognise the body as Justin Green, we’ll bring his brother up to do the official ID. We’ll let the Yorkshire lads know then. And Barbados. No point in alerting them just yet, in case it’s not him.’

  ‘I’ve never seen a body,’ confessed Georgia. ‘Will I be able to see him?’

  ‘Well, it’s not going to be a good one for you to start with. There’s quite a bit of decomposition according to the local team on site. But, hey, if you want to, I don’t see why not, as long as you know what you’ll be letting yourself in for.’

  ‘Cool. If it does turn out to be Justin Green, I wonder what’s happened?’

  ‘My guess is he could have been badly injured when he was stabbed in the eye. Maybe he was in pain and tired and needed to rest. He must have decided to get off the main road and hide in the forest for a while. He would have known Carol would have given a description of the car, and we’d be looking for it.’

  The Northern Area police were at the scene, having responded to the 999 call. From the alert circulated after Justin Green disappeared, they quickly realised that the car could be of interest to the team at Central and contacted Newcastle.

  ‘Kielder is enormous,’ Gayle told Georgia. ‘It’s the largest man-made woodland in Europe. About 650 square kilometres of forest. It’s mainly conifers, mostly spruce, with some scots pine, larch and douglas-fir thrown in.’

  ‘Just listen to you,’ Georgia laughed. ‘You sound like my old geography teacher.’

  ‘When I came back to the north-east, I did some research on Kielder. I visited one day and was overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. The forest surrounds Kielder Water, which is the largest man-made reservoir in the UK. There, now you’re as wise as me. Come to think of it, what better place to hide a car?’