Cherringham--Killing Time

by Matthew Costello

  “Chloe. Don’t worry,” said Sarah. “Nobody’s going to get hurt.”

  “Oh really? Maybe,” said Luke. “All depends on what you guys do.”

  “Meaning?” said Jack.

  “You line up, over there, and me and Chloe here will head up, just the two of us. Then we’re out of here.”

  “And then?” said Jack.

  “Soon as I’m safely out of the way, I let Chloe go. Simple.”

  Jack glanced at Sarah.

  No way could they trust Luke not to harm Chloe.

  He looked at Chloe. She was doing well, looking calm, not moving, her eyes locked on her mother.

  “Luke, we can do that, sure,” said Jack. “But, you know, you take Chloe with you? Then you got kidnapping on the slate. Things going downhill fast for you.”

  “You actually think I’m worried about that?” said Luke, with a loud laugh. “Jeez, I got a murder rap. Kidnapping? Just another detail.”

  “No — hang on. Not murder,” said Jack. “Nobody can prove you killed Zach. Heck, with a good lawyer, you might even convince a jury the whole thing was just an accident.”

  “Wait,” said Tom, “you killed Zach?”

  “You kidding?” said Luke, his gaze steady on Jack, ignoring Tom. “You must have dealt with a lot of suckers in the good old US of A? But me? Not a sucker. I’ll take my chances.”

  “For what? What was it all for? A bag of coke?”

  “Bag? Ha. Try a case of it. Worth a million,” said Luke. “My ticket out of here. I’ll take my chances. Good old-fashioned getaway.”

  Jack watched as he dragged Chloe slowly around the table.

  Tom and Ella backed away, all of them shifting position as he moved, heading towards the way out.

  But then — amazingly — Jack saw a flicker of light from the tunnel behind them, and then a distant voice, calling, “Hey! Who’s down here?”

  Whoever was coming — airfield security or maybe even the police — it had an immediate effect. Jack saw Luke stop, his escape route now blocked.

  How was he going to get out — dragging a hostage with him?

  And, in that second, the killer made a fateful call. He pushed Chloe to one side, turned and ran.

  *

  Not towards the tunnel they’d come down — no — but across the rubble-strewn space to a set of metal stairs that Jack could see went up the side of the wall to a rickety gantry that disappeared into darkness.

  Jack watched the light from Luke’s helmet, a wobbly pool of light against the side of the wall, then he turned to see Chloe already in Sarah’s arms, her daughter safe.

  Tom shouted out. “Luke, stop! Not that way, it’s not safe!”

  And then it seemed to Jack that everything happened at once — the airfield security guy arriving, Tom and Ella crazily following after Luke, their helmet lights picking him out in the space above, Luke’s shadow bouncing, pivoting on the high concrete.

  Then the terrible, screeching, yawning sound of the metal of the gantry breaking and bending, as Luke’s weight tore the gantry from the wall. The whole thing — staircase, steps, walkway — smashed to the hard floor below, in an explosion of metal and concrete and dust.

  Jack ran forward and saw the twisted form of the young man under the wreckage, and knew immediately …

  Zach’s killer was dead.

  16. In Memoriam

  Sarah leaned against the five-bar gate, with Jack at her side, and looked out across the meadow towards Blackwood House, the soft evening sun warming the red brick and raising perfume from wild flowers in the long grass.

  Zach’s public memorial celebration had drawn many more people than anyone had expected. Across the field, in a wide arc by the house, there must have been a couple of hundred mourners.

  Some were family and friends, but most, she knew, were fellow urbexers and fans of the YouTube trailblazer.

  All here to say farewell to Zach, right outside the scene of his final exploration.

  To pray, remember, pay tribute.

  The crowd sat silent on the grass as, one by one, urbexers stepped up, laid flowers, and spoke.

  Zach had meant something to all of them.

  Standing to one side of the group, their arms linked across their shoulders, she saw Tom, Ella and Megan.

  United now, whatever complexities there might have been just a few weeks ago in their relationships.

  Complexities that had all made the investigation harder than it had needed to be.

  “This is good, don’t you think?” said Jack.

  “Yep,” said Sarah. “Out here in the open. Sun and sky. Not in some hole in the ground.”

  She saw a figure rise from the distant, seated group, then head slowly towards them across the field.

  Chloe.

  “And how is she dealing with it all?” said Jack, watching Sarah’s daughter too.

  “Been tough. But we’ve had some chats. Some good talks.”

  “Doesn’t matter what age you are — hard to experience a thing like that. And then to see a death? Even when it’s somebody who’s hurt you … hurt people around you.”

  “I think she’ll come through.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” said Jack. “Especially with you there to help her.”

  Sarah nodded, smiled.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, when Alan rang to say the kids could use this field he also said they’d found the stash of drugs buried in Luke’s garden. Tons. Along with a bunch of data cards.”

  “I guess he was pretty much on the point of leaving. His getaway.”

  “And — you know — he almost did get away with it all. They found some emails on his laptop — seems he only stuck around to keep his cover.”

  “They get the data off those cards?” said Jack.

  “Yep. Turns out it was pretty much how you figured it. He spun Zach a line, used him to find the secret room, on a promise of a big share of some mysterious treasure. Then, some time that Wednesday night, when they finally got their hands on the safe, he pushed him through the hole. Killed him. No witnesses. All nice and clean, with poor Zach dead.”

  “Then, cool as anything,” said Jack, taking up the story, “he moves Zach’s body out of the way, makes a new video with Thursday’s date set in his helmet-cam. Drops the helmet down onto the rubble to recreate the ‘fall’. Climbs down, moves Zach’s body back onto the rubble, switches the data cards. Slips away with the drugs.”

  “Then, next day — Thursday — he goes to the pub quiz, nails his alibi …” said Sarah.

  “Perfect crime — almost,” said Jack. “And all that time, that poor kid just lying there in the house.”

  “Why kill him?” said Sarah.

  “I’m guessing — but I figure if you’re stealing from drug dealers, you don’t want any witnesses.”

  “And no stranger to violence.”

  “That’s right. And Luke — or should I say ‘Jimmy’ — paid off the security guy, I guess?”

  “Maloney?” said Sarah. “Oh yeah. He’s under arrest. Got a few grand to look the other way all that week.”

  “And here’s the hero of the hour,” said Jack, as Chloe approached within earshot.

  “Mum, Jack!” said Chloe.

  She came to the gate, gave them both a hug, then turned and stood close between them, watching the memorial.

  “You okay, love?” said Sarah, her head close to her daughter’s.

  “I’m good. Really, I am. It was hard coming here — you know? But it’s the right thing to do.”

  “It is,” said Sarah.

  “Sure,” Jack said. “A way for everyone to remember — but also to move on.”

  Sarah looked over Chloe’s shoulder at Jack, the three of them suddenly feeling almost like a family group.

  But — there was no doubt — Jack kinda was family.

  That thought prompted another — so unexpected and day-to-day that it almost made her laugh out loud.

  Whatever shall we have for din
ner?

  I wonder what’s in the freezer?

  And then: Let’s have Jack over too.

  She felt that she too would get over these frightening events, especially what had nearly happened to her daughter.

  Time heals, when the right people are around you.

  And life in Cherringham could — Sarah hoped — return to its more sedate, everyday patterns.

  At least for a while.

  END

  Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

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