The Running of the Deer

by Catriona King

  Hunter nodded briskly. “I’ll do it now.”

  His next calls, to Kyle and Andy, were less successful, getting an answerphone both times, so he called Davy instead.

  “Davy, are Kyle and Andy with you?”

  “No. They went to the council planning offices just after you left, to check the floor plan of that forest building you found.”

  Craig sighed heavily, suspicious of what else the pair might have done.

  “Which should have taken them at most an hour. Damn.”

  The idiots were heading for Tyrone.

  The detective took a deep breath before he swore again, preferring not to berate his analyst for someone else’s mistake twice in one day.

  “OK, thanks, Davy. Get Ash to try their phones periodically, and as soon as they surface get them to call me.”

  He was just hanging up and about to let rip with some expletives when the analyst spoke again.

  “Before you go. Declan Canavan, the father, hadn’t been in any negotiations w…with the governments to grant them a lease on his land. In fact, in the ten years before his death he’d refused requests from them three times.”

  Craig cut the call and was pondering why Canavan’s sons had been so eager to lease the land when their father had been so against it, when he noticed an unread message on his phone. It was from Andy, timed two hours before. He opened it to find no text but three images: the original photograph of the forest building that they’d got from Theo Sheridan, and two floorplans detailing its ground and first floor, both of which were labelled, ‘Hunting Lodge: Declan Canavan’ and dated nineteen-sixty-one.

  The detective gave a slow whistle as he perused them. The place was enormous; laid out with kitchens, bathrooms, bedrooms and other facilities, it was easily large enough to house a score of boys.

  Liam craned his neck to see the images, while trying not to land them in a ditch at ninety miles an hour.

  “Pics of the building?”

  Craig swopped his phone to his left hand. “Keep your eyes on the road and maybe I’ll tell you.”

  When Liam’s eyes were firmly fixed straight ahead again he obliged.

  “It’s a hunting lodge belonging to the Canavans built by their father in sixty-one, and it tells us a lot.”

  “Yeh. That they had plenty of dough even back then.”

  The remark made Craig smile, despite his anger with two of his men for disappearing at an important point in the case. Andy even more than Kyle; he expected his D.C.I.s to know better and he’d trusted that Andy was strong enough not to be led astray by the Machiavellian spook.

  “Yes, they had, but it also tells us that old man Canavan was a hunter, so my guess is that the apples didn’t fall far from the tree, especially where illegal deer hunting is concerned. Also, the size and location of the lodge says that a couple of dozen boys could live there quite easily and never be detected unless someone came looking especially.”

  Liam gave a grunt. “I bet it doesn’t hurt to have a secret government facility close by either. Anyone who snooped too hard around there would find themselves in a cell pretty damn quick.”

  Craig gawped at him. “Liam, you’re a genius.”

  He was certain that he saw the D.C.I. blush.

  “Aye, well, I always said I was. But just to be clear, why am I a genius right now? Specifically?”

  “Because you’ve just explained why the Canavans leased the land to the government for Appside. It wasn’t just for the money, they knew that its Official Secrets status would deter people from snooping around and discovering the lodge and the boys. Miranda said there were Keep Out signs all over that area, we just didn’t notice them the first time we visited because we went straight to the clearing. This is the second link I was looking for between the Appside and the murders.”

  He gave Liam a second to preen himself and then got back to the point.

  “The boys couldn’t be squatting in the lodge without the Canavans’ knowledge, which reinforces the idea that one or both of the brothers is up to their eyes in this whole thing, whatever it turns out to be exactly.”

  Suddenly he gave a snort, prompting Liam to comment.

  “Ooh, Andy and Kyle really have pissed you off. Gone walkabout have they, and not left Daddy a note?”

  “Less of the daddy, but yes. Davy said they went to the council as soon as we left, and Andy sent me the plans two hours ago. Now both of their phones are off.”

  Liam shrugged. “Maybe they’ve just gone for something to eat like we did.”

  “Does that require radio silence?”

  “Fair point. OK, so then my money says they’re heading exactly where we are.”

  “That’s what’s worrying me. I can control Miranda’s search teams and I know that we’ll be careful, but those two clowns could just go blundering in.”

  Liam shook his head. “Nah. You’ve said yourself that Kyle’s a spook so he’s careful. Now, be honest, you’re just pissed off that they’re ignoring your calls.”

  The only response he got was Craig gazing out at the road again.

  ****

  Motorbikes are dangerous machines, that statement can’t be disputed, supported as it is by statistics such as accident fatalities being forty times higher than in cars. But they’re also fast and agile machines, slipping down alleyways and mounting sheer surfaces where a four-wheeled vehicle wouldn’t have a hope in hell. Motorbikes with the right tyres are even more useful, cutting across muddy country and rambling up and down hills. It all adds up to a Belfast to Tyrone journey that takes one hundred minutes cross- country instead of the one-forty by motorway, even if the bike is carrying an enormous wraparound pannier full of deer heads.

  So, just as Miranda Hunter’s observation cordon was being raised around the forest and estate, two young men riding pillion slipped quickly through it, mercifully spotted by a school teacher and a greengrocer who had paired up for the watch.

  They waited until the bike was out of earshot and gave the inspector a call, and she in turn called Craig.

  “A motorbike, sir. It’s just slipped the cordon on the way into the forest.”

  Craig knew instantly where it had come from.

  “Did it have a carrying box?”

  “I’ll find out and call you back.”

  Five minutes later the detectives knew that a bike with the capability of carrying the deer heads had just made it through into the woods. The information gave Craig the solution to an earlier puzzle.

  “A motorbike, Liam. One with a large pannier capable of carrying the heads, and probably later on the stones as well. They could have got in and out of the clearing hardly leaving a track.”

  “Aye, or at least none that couldn’t have been swept away fast. So, if the heads have made it there before us, that mightn’t give us long if they’re planning another killing.”

  “No, it-”

  Craig was interrupted by his phone ringing again and its screen showed a familiar name.

  “Andy. You’d better have a damn good reason for turning your phone off.”

  The D.C.I. answered in a whisper. “Was it off?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “It wasn’t deliberate, chief, honest. It must just be the reception where we are.”

  “Which is?”

  Craig wondered why he was even bothering to ask.

  “Tyrone. We got the plans of the lodge. Did you get them?”

  “Yes. But I didn’t tell you to take off-”

  The whisper grew insistent. “No, no, but we had to. We noticed something on the OS map that wasn’t in the land records, so we had to come down and check it out. It turns out there’s an internal track from the Canavans’ estate to Erb’s Clearing, so just watching the main roads won’t catch Niall if he tries to leave the estate.”

  Leaving aside the fact that they could have asked the locals to check it out for them instead of trekking one hundred miles down the road, it was an interesting discovery.

  “A track… Are you
and Kyle there now?”

  “Yes. We’re hiding in the undergrowth alongside it.”

  The image made Craig smile, as did the knowledge that both of their suits would get covered in mud. Revenge was sweet.

  “Describe it to me.”

  Andy glanced at the rough trench six feet in front of him, wondering what sort of adjectives Craig wanted. It was just a mud track! He got his answer a second later.

  “I want its width, how many people it would accommodate, could a vehicle get down there, is the floor of it level or cut down from the surrounding land, and so on.”

  “Ah, right. Well, it’s very narrow, one person at a time. No way a car-”

  “What about a motorbike?”

  “OK… Yes, I suppose a bike could get down it. It’s pretty deep, with mud heaped up alongside it for around a foot.”

  Just the sort of deep ruck that a laden down motorbike would cause.

  Craig had heard enough.

  “OK. We’ll discuss you two being there after we’ve closed the case, but for now, just stay silent and watch. If I’m right then things around there are about to get busy, so note who goes down that track, but above all stay hidden, that’s an order. I don’t want you two becoming sacrifices or messing things up.”

  Andy shot a sceptical glance at his companion, knowing that trying to keep Kyle in line would prove futile, but he decided not to share his thoughts with Craig.

  “Liam and I are almost there now, and Miranda has the locals forming a watching cordon around the forest and estate, so don’t mess this up or I’ll kill both of you myself.”

  As Craig hung up he allowed himself a small smile, prompting a question from Liam.

  “That track they found. Motorbike?”

  “Yep. It runs from the Canavans’ castle straight to the clearing, and my guess is it’s been in use for a long time.”

  “As long as the lodge?”

  “Probably. If it has then Canavan Senior may have used that clearing long before the lost boys did.”

  “What for?”

  “I can only speculate, but maybe there was devil worship there decades ago, or maybe he held barbeques for-”

  Liam interrupted triumphantly.

  “Ah ha! You see? I was right. Devil worship.”

  Craig knew he would have folded his arms smugly if he hadn’t been driving the car.

  “I was only speculating.”

  But Liam was on a roll. “Or what about an orgy? Maybe chuck some satanic stuff in as well, like they did in those old seventies Hammer movies. The Devil Does Dallas or something.”

  “Maybe.”

  Craig chuckled at the image of a bunch of people in bad kaftans getting their freak on in the woods. They didn’t know it, but Liam’s joke was a lot nearer the mark than they knew.

  Suddenly Craig’s face fell. “Or maybe when this is all over we’re going to find the remains of more victims than just our two boys.” The thought made him grimace. “Just get us there fast, Liam, before anyone else dies.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The Canavan Estate. County Tyrone. 11 p.m.

  Dermot was surprised when he arrived to find his family home in darkness, the exterior spotlights that switched on automatically at dusk to deter burglars remained dark, and not even the Tiffany lamp that had burned constantly in the house’s wide entrance hall for generations was illuminated.

  He moved cautiously across the marble floor to turn it on and then gazed around the familiar, empty space, wondering where his brother could be and calling out his name to no reply, even though the words carried quite a way in the clear night air. As far as the hunting lodge.

  Niall Canavan heard his name being called, in tones that could belong to no-one but his little brother, Dermot’s distinctive smooth voice recognisable no matter how faint his words. The elder son stared straight ahead as he listened, feeling a turbulent mixture of fury, love and regret, although the first emotion dominated the rest.

  His little brother Dermot, the small boy whose hand he had held at night when he’d been frightened, the boy whose tears he’d dried long before he’d thought about his own. His little brother, for whom he’d made himself a shield unhesitatingly, willingly absorbing every blow that their father had thrown so that he would never experience the pain that he had felt for years. The thoughts brought Niall to his feet, still staring ahead, his fists clenched now, each cry of his name making them tighten further until it felt as if his bones might snap.

  Joey Parfitt watched the strange man from the rear of the group he was in, the younger boys huddling together still puzzled about what was happening, and in front of them the ten taller boys, almost as tall as this silent man that he had never seen until five minutes before, and all of them carrying guns. That’s what had been in the cupboard.

  Joey shivered, not from cold but fear, and it spread to his nearest companions until he could hear their chattering teeth. He wasn’t street-wise, he’d learned that at the home, but even he knew that something very bad was about to go down.

  It was confirmed when the man nodded and the tallest of the tall boys stepped forth; the same blond boy who had been there when the van’s shutter had risen. Joey mouth dropped open when he heard someone call him Max. He was the one that the others called the boss! Then he remembered the pug boy saying that Max only ran the place most of the time and guessed that the man they’d just met was the real boss.

  Max Legge spoke authoritatively in his strong, youthful voice.

  “Form up, you nine. The kids will stay behind and fight as last resort.”

  Joey had never been so happy to be called a kid, but his natural curiosity made him wonder where the others were going, although not enough to follow when they trooped out in single file behind the man. Just as he thought they were safe Niall turned back at the exit to face them, his face breaking into a chilly smile.

  “Don’t worry, boys, your turn will come.”

  Then he was gone, and they heard an engine revving up. Joey peered through a window into the dark, trying to make sense of what was happening. He could still hear feet marching so they hadn’t all got into the van, but someone, probably the man, was taking transport to wherever they planned to go. Curiosity got the better of the normally timid boy, and he raced out into the night to follow, making sure to walk in time so that his footsteps were muffled by the older boys’.

  After a good five minutes of following Joey saw it. A mansion so large that it dwarfed even the care home where he lived. He didn’t have time to wonder how he could have been so close and yet not have known that the building was there, as the boys stopped marching suddenly and he scuttled behind a tree to ensure that he wasn’t seen. He was even more surprised when Max produced a key to open the house’s front door and the crocodile of boys disappeared through it, their feet thudding rhythmically on what had to be a hard interior floor. When they were all inside Joey shifted his position to gain a better view and saw a grand entrance hall.

  Dermot Canavan’s reaction was shock when the armed teenagers marched towards him and then spread out to flank him on all sides. He knew all of the boys because they’d worked for him as runners, but he understood within seconds that now they worked only for someone else.

  “Max! What are you doing? Does Niall know that you’re in the house?”

  The youth took two steps towards him and Joey stifled a gasp as the others did the same.

  “Niall sent us. You’re to come now.”

  Dermot’s immediate dash for the stairs was halted by a scowling boy who held him back with a rifle. Dermot’s instinct to punch him was tempered more by the fact he was a child than that he held a gun.

  “I order you to let me go.”

  “Only Niall gives us orders now.”

  Dermot turned back to the lead challenger, furious but still confused.

  “I brought you here, Max. I gave you a home. Ellie and I, we looked out for you.”

  The response was a repetition that w
as almost robotic. “Only Niall gives us orders now.” Then, “Come with us.”

  The struggle was finished before it even started; even as a strong, fit man there was no way that he could defeat armed youths. As they herded him through the front door Dermot thought that he caught sight of something moving in the bushes, and he tried to sneak a second look without giving himself away.

  It was then that he saw Joey; tiny, scared, but the horror in his eyes was unmistakable, and Dermot knew immediately that this child wasn’t his enemy. So, with a flick of his eyes he indicated the house, praying that the boy would know what to do.

  Then he was gone. Marched at gunpoint down the track that Andy and Kyle had discovered earlier, the track that Niall Canavan had travelled minutes before on a motorbike.

  Joey Parfitt was left alone to do what he knew he had to, enter the house and phone nine-nine-nine.

  ****

  Craig had all the information that he needed; the width of the ruck said motorbike and Miranda’s call had confirmed that it could be carrying the heads. Now he and Liam had joined the police presence in the forest, except that their position wasn’t at its perimeter with the others, but face down at one side of Erb’s Clearing, the one that Davy had just confirmed would be least illuminated by the spring moon.

  Liam whispered as quietly as he could. “So, what now? We’re expecting a bike to arrive with the heads and then the boys with a victim?”

  Craig gave a sharp nod. “Exactly. The only question is what are the Canavans’ roles in this. Whether one or both of them led the murders.”

  Liam gave a quiet snort. “Huh. You really think those kids need anyone to tell them what to do.”

  “Time will-”

  Something made Craig stop speaking and he signalled his deputy not to make a sound. His instinct was rewarded a moment later when they heard the unmistakable revving of a motorbike.

  The detectives peered through the near darkness, only the faint moonlight allowing them to see their hands; it made Liam wish he’d brought along the night-vision goggles that he always kept in his car boot.