A Darker Place

by Rachel Amphlett

  ‘It’s just been emailed through from Simon Thomas,’ she said, gesturing to a spare seat nearby. ‘I’ll forward it to everyone and then we can make a start with the ANPR records from Friday as well as CCTV.’

  Parker scooted the chair across, a loose caster rattling in its housing before he sank into the seat and joined her. ‘Do you think we’ll find him alive?’

  She pursed her lips. ‘I don’t know, Phil. I don’t have a good feeling about this.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  He fell silent as she moused across the screen, sent the email and then logged in to the National ANPR Data Centre’s site.

  Reaching out for her notebook, she entered in the licence plate for the refrigerated truck Carl had been driving and waited while the data processed.

  ‘Here we go,’ she said, spotting the record highlighted.

  Working her way through the system, she wrote down each location the truck had passed on the driver’s route around the local area while Parker accessed the CCTV cameras that would enable them to visually track Carl Taylor’s last movements.

  ‘How’s it going over here?’ said Gavin, leaning on her desk and peering at the screen.

  ‘We’ve just started with the CCTV,’ she replied. She pulled a fresh notepad towards her, copied the locations from the ANPR system and ripped out the page. ‘This is what we’ve got to work with so far if you want to add those to the map.’

  ‘Brilliant, thanks.’ He snatched the note from her hand and hurried over to the cork board at the end of the room as his mobile phone started to ring.

  Laura turned her attention back to the screen as Parker clicked on the first camera angle listed, and fast-forwarded the recording closer to the time that corresponded with the route list provided by Carl’s employer.

  Sure enough, at half past seven on Friday morning, a cream-coloured truck with the cold chain fleet’s logo down the side of the trailer flashed past the camera on its way to Carl’s first drop, a 24/7 convenience store on the Loose Road.

  ‘Okay, so Simon Thomas says that all their drivers collect their daily loads from a cold chain distribution warehouse at Laddingford, then start their rounds,’ said Laura, glancing at the depot manager’s email. ‘The route can change from day to day depending on customer requirements, but their regular drops make up three quarters of their daily route.’

  Parker adjusted the settings and found a CCTV camera facing the shop. ‘This angle shows Carl and Will unloading the truck outside the shop, look.’

  Twenty minutes later, the delivery truck pulled away from the kerb and disappeared from view.

  ‘Next stop…’ Parker murmured, and clicked on the relevant camera listing.

  Laura leaned back in her chair as her colleague worked his way through the list and tried to batten down her impatience.

  They needed answers, and soon.

  The incident door swung open, and Kay hurried in with Barnes at her side.

  She made a beeline for the whiteboard as Barnes tossed the car keys onto his desk before joining her.

  ‘Back in a minute,’ said Laura.

  Parker said nothing, his gaze fixed on the screen.

  When Laura reached the other detectives, Gavin was providing Kay with more detail about their interview with Simon Thomas.

  ‘Wasn’t there a GPS system fitted to Carl’s truck?’ said Kay.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Simon Thomas again since we got back here,’ Gavin replied. ‘He says that when it was suggested to them, their drivers weren’t keen. He’s always been satisfied with their work, and there haven’t been any serious complaints from customers, so he was happy to acquiesce. Given that having GPS on the trucks isn’t a legal requirement he felt it saved him having to gain their consent to collect data. The idea was dropped back in January one week after it was put to them.’

  ‘They might reconsider it after this,’ said Barnes.

  Laura glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps approaching to see Parker advancing towards them, notebook in hand.

  ‘I think I might have found the last known whereabouts of the truck,’ he said. He moved to the map Gavin had been using to plot Carl’s route and tapped his finger on a wooded area south of the town. ‘He never made the drop-off at Yalding, and the one before that was here, in Mockbeggar. If it was me, I’d use this lane to avoid the worst of the traffic along this road here.’

  Kay turned to the room and raised her voice as PS Hughes looked up from his computer screen. ‘I need three patrol cars over to this location – now. Either Will Nivens is our main suspect for the murder of Carl Taylor, or he’s another victim and could be trapped in that refrigerated truck. Let’s go.’

  Laura raced back to her desk, gathered up her belongings and tried to batten down her renewed panic.

  ‘Gavin, Laura – get Simon Thomas to meet us there, along with the fire service so they can cut open the back of that truck if we need help.’ Kay pulled her stab vest from the bottom drawer of her desk before heading towards the door with Barnes, calling over her shoulder as she hurried after him.

  ‘Lights and sirens on the way there, everyone. No hanging about.’

  Chapter Nine

  Blue flashing lights from two police patrol vehicles greeted Kay as Barnes slid the car to a halt alongside an overgrown grass verge.

  The uniformed traffic officers were already placing road cones to block off access to the lane and creating a diversion through alternative routes, their yellow high visibility vests stark against the hawthorn hedgerows that lined the road and encroached along the edges of the pot-holed surface.

  A gentle breeze shook the oak and sycamore trees above Kay’s head, the leaves hissing in the wind as she pulled a hi-vis vest over the bulky stab vest and lumbered from the vehicle.

  ‘Jesus, I don’t miss wearing all this stuff,’ Barnes grumbled at her side.

  ‘At least you’re not carrying all the equipment as well,’ she said, and raised a hand in greeting to the tall uniformed officer who turned at the sound of their footsteps. ‘Tim.’

  ‘Guv.’ Police Sergeant Tim Wallace nodded to Barnes, then jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘We’ve found your driver’s truck. It’s about a hundred metres that way, down a turn-off for a track that hasn’t been used in a while. It’s all overgrown, except for a few branches that have snapped off – presumably by the truck being parked down there.’

  ‘Have you opened the back of it?’

  ‘We can’t, guv. Someone’s put a heavy-duty padlock on it, and none of the keys in the cab fit it.’

  ‘The keys were there?’

  ‘Yes, guv – in the ignition.’

  ‘How far away are the fire brigade?’

  ‘A couple of minutes.’

  ‘Any signs of the trainee driver?’

  ‘We’ve had a look around the area and in the cab, but there’s no sign of him.’

  ‘In that case, I want––’

  Kay stopped at the sound of another vehicle approaching, a second car in its wake.

  Both parked behind hers.

  ‘That’s Gavin and Laura,’ she said, ‘and I think this must be the depot manager from the truck company. With any luck he’s got a set of master keys to open the padlock so we can preserve any evidence rather than cut it open.’

  ‘Best tell them to hurry, guv,’ said Wallace. ‘If that bloke has been in the back of it all this time…’

  She murmured her agreement, then gestured to Simon Thomas to approach.

  Gavin and Laura emerged from the second car, both detectives jogging over to where she stood.

  ‘Mr Thomas, a padlock’s been fitted to the back of the truck. Have you got the keys?’ she said.

  In response, the man reached into his pocket and held up two brass keys. ‘But we don’t use padlocks, detective. These are for the door locks.’

  ‘Shit.’

  Kay turned at the sound of a heavy vehicle roaring along the lane, and held up her hand as a fire engine
braked beside her.

  The driver lowered his window and peered down at her. ‘Where do you want us?’

  ‘I need bolt cutters – now. A man’s life is in danger.’

  The driver turned and called over his shoulder to the crew in the cab behind him.

  The door opened, and two firefighters jumped down, the second man turning and reaching up for the bolt cutters that a colleague passed to him.

  ‘Okay, let’s go,’ said Kay.

  She followed Wallace as he threaded his way between the two parked patrol cars blocking access to other vehicles, her heart racing.

  The pungent scent of pine needles and damp undergrowth permeated the air, the silence of the lane broken only by the lowing of a cow in a field beyond the dense wooded area to either side of her.

  Deep ruts in the cracked and dried mud turned soft, cradling dank pools of water in the shaded areas beside the trunks of decades-old trees. Overgrown ferns and thick grass covered the verges, the foliage blocking all but a narrow strip of sunlight along the middle of the track where tall grass had been flattened by the passing of a heavy vehicle.

  ‘There are fresh tyre tracks in the mud here too,’ said Gavin.

  Kay followed him along the uneven surface, careful where she trod in order not to roll her ankle in one of the ruts.

  The narrow track kinked to the left after a few metres, and then she stopped.

  Barnes took a deep breath beside her at the sight of the abandoned truck.

  It had been driven nose-first along the track, only its rear doors visible amongst the undergrowth and branches that impeded their progress towards it.

  Kay eyed the padlock fixed to the handles on the back doors of the truck and waved the depot manager forward.

  ‘Mr Thomas, can you confirm that truck is your missing vehicle?’

  ‘It is, yes.’ His voice shook. ‘That’s the truck Carl was driving on Friday.’

  She craned her neck until she could spot two of the firefighters who had followed them. ‘Get us in there, then.’

  The man didn’t wait for further instructions. He rushed forward, and began cutting at the padlock while she and Barnes worked their way around to the driver’s door.

  ‘The door was unlocked when we got here,’ said Wallace. ‘That’s how we found the keys in the ignition. They were left in the “on” position.’

  Kay lowered her gaze from the driver’s cab, running her eyes along the length of the truck. ‘The back tyre’s flat.’

  ‘There’s a small nick in it like it’s been cut with a knife, guv,’ said Wallace. ‘The one around the other side is the same. I wondered whether that was done once the truck was here so it couldn’t be moved.’

  ‘Why leave the engine running though?’

  Simon Thomas took a step forward and called to her from where he hovered at the back of the truck alongside Gavin and Laura.

  ‘Detective? The engine would mostly likely have been left on to keep the motor running for the refrigeration unit,’ he said. ‘Our drivers control the temperature from the cab.’

  ‘How long would it stay cold for once the fuel ran out?’

  ‘A couple of days, as long as the doors remain closed.’

  Barnes swore under his breath. ‘If there’s someone still inside––’

  A dull thud from the back of the truck reached Kay, and she shrugged off the tendrils of blackthorn that clung to her vest as she fought her way to the rear of the vehicle.

  Gavin and the others formed a tight semi-circle across the width of the narrow track, a silence descending on the group as she reappeared.

  The firefighter stood to one side with the bolt cutters in his hand, the padlock on the ground where it had fallen amongst the weeds.

  Kay saw Laura glance her way, and realised they were all waiting for her.

  She paused, pulled out a pair of protective gloves from her stab vest and slipped them on.

  The rest of the crime scene might have been compromised by their presence in the rush to find Will Nivens, but it was her duty to take reasonable precautions to conserve evidence where she could.

  She wiggled her fingers, then stepped forward and rattled the handle of the right-hand side door.

  ‘They’re quite heavy,’ Simon Thomas said. ‘You’ll need to pull down hard on it to release it.’

  Kay did as he instructed, and the door opened with a metallic groan.

  A blast of ice-cold air burst from the narrow gap, frigid tentacles reaching out and wrapping around her face and forearms.

  She shivered, peering into the darkness as she wrenched the door open wider, nodding to Barnes as he snapped on gloves and swung open the left door.

  Boxes of frozen chips, vegetables, pre-packaged ice cream and more lined the insides of the truck, a narrow gap down the middle of them creating a haphazard path.

  ‘Guv, look at the doors,’ said Gavin, moving until he stood beside her.

  She raised her chin to where he pointed, and swallowed.

  Within the layers of ice that still coated the thick steel metalwork were scratch marks, tainted with blood.

  ‘The poor bastards tried to claw their way out,’ said Barnes.

  ‘Give me a leg up there,’ she said, and placed her hand on his shoulder.

  He cupped his hands, waited until her foot was in place, then boosted her over the tailgate and into the vehicle.

  Kay reached out to the side of the truck to steady herself, the soles of her shoes sliding across the icy floor while her eyes adjusted to the gloom.

  ‘Anyone got a light?’ she said.

  ‘Here.’ Wallace reached into his vest and handed her a heavy duty torch.

  ‘Don’t let those doors swing shut.’

  Switching it on, she turned away from him and swung the beam across the frost covering the boxes.

  A thin white sheen glinted off the walls and ceiling of the unit, and she frowned at a series of scuff marks that had scraped against the boxes and the floor.

  Two thick uneven parallel lines tracked from the doors to the far end, as if something – or someone – had been dragged out.

  ‘Carl,’ she whispered.

  Goosebumps covered her arms, the icy atmosphere chilling her legs as she shuffled forwards.

  The boxes began to thin out, the space ahead of her widening as she approached the last metre of the refrigerated space.

  ‘How many more drops did Carl have left to do?’ she called.

  ‘Three,’ Laura replied. ‘The last drop was the largest one.’

  ‘That explains the amount of stuff still in here, then.’

  Kay paused a moment, the torch beam bouncing off the back wall of the truck, blinding her with the amount of ice that clung to the interior.

  She raised the light to the ceiling, noting that the refrigeration unit was above her head, the motor silent.

  Knowing in her heart what she would find, she exhaled.

  Sidling through the fine mist that escaped her lips, she lowered the beam and emitted a groan.

  A gangly man in his early twenties lay curled up in the foetal position, his shoes kicked away from his body and a thick sweater bundled up under his cheek.

  Ice covered his features, his arms and bare feet blue while his eyes stared sightlessly at a box that had split apart, a sprinkling of frozen peas scattered around his prone form.

  Kay had seen enough.

  She stumbled back to the open doors, took Barnes and Gavin’s outstretched hands and jumped to the ground.

  One of the firefighters stepped forward and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, his eyes seeing the horror in hers before he gave her an imperceptible nod.

  Once she was sure her teeth had stopped chattering, Kay began issuing orders.

  ‘Mr Thomas, I need you to return to your car with Sergeant Wallace, please. Tim – could you radio in and request both a pathologist and SOCO attend as soon as possible? Let Traffic know that diversion needs to be in place for at least twenty-four
hours.’

  As the uniformed sergeant led Thomas away, Kay dismissed the firefighters and turned to her team.

  ‘There’s a dead man inside, frozen like Carl Taylor. I’m assuming it’s Will Nivens until we have formal identification. We need to keep this story locked down until we’ve got that, so make sure everyone who reports to the crime scene understands I won’t tolerate anyone letting the media know, understood?’

  Her three colleagues murmured their agreement.

  ‘Right, Barnes – you’re with me. Gav, Laura – get yourselves back to the incident room to coordinate from there. Work with Debbie to sort out the roster for tonight and tomorrow, and order in some takeaway to keep everyone going.’ She turned back to the open doors of the refrigeration truck.

  ‘One way or another, we’re going to find out who did this, and make sure they pay for it.’

  Chapter Ten

  Kay’s heart sank as she peered through the tree canopy above and listened to the crime scene investigation team calling out to each other while they worked beyond the cordon.

  An indigo hue was starting to encroach on the summer evening, and a coolness was descending on the narrow lane.

  ‘It’s going to start getting dark soon,’ she said to Harriet Baker as the CSI lead approached the tape.

  Harriet closed the sketchbook she was holding, handed it to a colleague, then pointed to six tripods that had been arranged around the refrigerated truck.

  ‘Don’t worry – Charlie’s brought the lamps with him,’ she said.

  On cue, six powerful multi-bulb lights powered to life, illuminating the vehicle from all sides.

  Kay blinked to counteract the sudden flare, and raised her hand to shield her eyes. ‘Sorry, I’m holding you up.’

  ‘We’ll call out to you if we find anything significant,’ said Harriet. ‘We’re going to be here all night though.’

  Kay hovered at the outer cordon, pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders and went through the growing list in her head that she would have to action on her return to the incident room the next morning.

  She stifled a yawn, aware that the people around her would be working even longer hours after Will Nivens was safely removed from the back of the truck, then heard footsteps on the asphalt behind her.