by R. J. Parker
All she could hear was the animal’s harsh breath as its chest pumped in and out.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and it felt like an electric shock.
‘The police are outside.’ Tate said as soon as she’d answered.
Leah tried to respond but only a choked noise escaped her.
‘Are you in the bedroom?’
‘Yes.’
‘Go over to the window then. You’ll see them parked in the road.’
Was he watching her? Leah lifted herself away from the door and crossed the carpet to the horizontal blinds at the pane. Her fingers fumbled them open. She could see over the hedge and all the way up the street. There were two cars on the opposite side of the road with people sitting in the driver’s seat. ‘How could you have…’ Repugnance bulged out of the unfinished question.
‘You’re enquiring about my method?’
‘They were strangers to you.’
‘And that doesn’t make them easier targets?’
‘They were defenceless…’
‘See my last answer.’
Leah blinked away a tear.
‘You seem to be having more trouble dealing with this than you did Katya. Is that because you didn’t know her?’
She gagged again.
‘Or because she’d been sleeping with Elliot? I didn’t know the old couple. That’s why it was easy. Were they really good neighbours?’ But he sounded bored.
Leah felt cold nausea trickle through her.
‘Take a breath. You need to compose yourself for someone you really care about.’
Chapter Forty-Five
‘Mrs Talbot?’ DI Byrne had taken the phone from Fitch.
‘Yes. Can I pick up my car?’ Leah was striding shakily back down the rear path, brambles snagging her legs.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Fine. I just wanted to check with you it’s all right. I need it now.’
‘Are you not at your father’s place?’ Byrne sounded puzzled.
Leah remembered she’d told the officer she was on her way there when she’d left the police station. And that had been some time ago. ‘No.’ She tried to slow her breathing down. ‘I … had some other things to sort out first. Who’s got my keys?’
‘The attending officer will have them. I’ll call ahead and let him know you’re going to pick the vehicle up.’
‘Thanks. I won’t disturb you any longer.’
‘Just so you know, we’ve released Lownes.’
Momentarily Leah had forgotten who he was.
‘There seemed little point in holding him further.’
‘OK, thanks.’
‘Where are you now?’
Leah had been about to hang up. Now she had to think on her feet. She couldn’t tell her she was in Minster Street. ‘Just on my way to Alice Booth’s house.’
There was a pause. ‘Uh-huh.’
Leah wondered if her non-specific answer had made Byrne suspicious. ‘Should be there in five minutes.’
‘And then you’re going to your father’s house?’
‘Yes. Will you be in touch if there’s any news?’ she added, trying to act like she should.
‘I’ve already said we will,’ Byrne said flatly. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘Yes. Everything’s fine.’ Which was a stupid thing to say.
‘OK.’ Byrne conceded uncertainly. ‘Keep your phone with you.’
‘Of course.’ She heard Byrne hang up. The officer was clearly sceptical but Leah didn’t have time to worry about it. She had to get the car and drive to the location that Tate had just given her.
Ten minutes later she was walking back along the grass bank to the home of Alice Booth. She was still numb from her horrific experience in the Trents’s bathroom. Her fingerprints had to be at Katya’s place as well as her neighbours’ house. Was Tate deliberately incriminating her? And was he nearby, observing her every move? If he was, she wouldn’t linger long at Alice Booth’s. She needed the car but she had to avoid him thinking she was communicating with the police. If they detained her with more questions what would happen to Elliot?
She tried to examine the face of each motorist that passed her on the road, and shot wary glances behind her. No sign of Tate. But she couldn’t afford to assume he wasn’t around. Only she could resolve the situation, so she had to shut away the sickening images in her head and focus on what she had to do.
There were only three cars parked outside now, two patrol vehicles and Elliot’s Vauxhall. The gate was open, but Leah remained outside the property. The same older uniformed officer was standing in the courtyard talking on his mobile. He hung up as soon as he saw Leah and ambled over.
‘DI Byrne said she was phoning ahead.’
He nodded, his fingers already in his pocket for the keys. He handed them to her.
‘Thanks.’
The officer didn’t respond, just studied Leah.
She lingered, expecting him to say something else but he didn’t.
As she made for the car, she could feel his eyes on her back. After their conversation, had Byrne told him to watch her? Suddenly the distance between her and the Vauxhall seemed far greater than it was, and she tried to slow her pace down. Leah didn’t look back but got in and pulled the door closed behind her. She tried to start the engine, but it wouldn’t. Glancing at her mirror she saw the officer still at the gate, his attention fixed on her car. ‘Come on.’
The Vauxhall turned over, sputtered and cut out.
Leah attempted to remain composed and tried again.
The car still wouldn’t start.
Was this a ruse by Byrne? Did they still have suspicions about her and want to keep the vehicle? Surely they could have fingerprinted it by now if they’d wanted to. But perhaps they wanted to do other tests on it and this was their way—
It started up the fourth time.
Leah puffed out a breath of relief and pulled out onto the road as soon as there was a gap in the traffic. She U-turned, accelerated away and checked her mirror. The officer still hadn’t budged. Was he going to report back to Byrne now?
As Leah put her foot down, the officer disappeared behind the curve of the road. She couldn’t allow the police to follow her. She peered at the other vehicles behind her. Were any of them surveillance officers that Byrne had dispatched from their vigil outside her house?
She realised the deer had been removed. No sign of the carcass she’d left there remained. Had Alice Booth also been taken away? If she had there were still three other dead people behind her in Forley, and the police were still to discover them. Was she really capable of withholding that? The knowledge of it burnt at her. She would tell DI Byrne as soon as possible but she had to do everything in her power to save Elliot’s life first.
Leah grimly gripped the steering wheel and tried not to imagine what was happening to Elliot at that very moment. At least she now knew where he was being held. That’s if Tate wasn’t lying to her. Maybe he was sending her there as part of a game.
She slowed down at the bend. If she wasn’t careful, she’d crash the car before she got there.
Stay calm. Just follow instructions.
If Tate genuinely wanted her, if his feelings for her really weren’t another lie, she could use them to get Elliot back. It was the only leverage she had. She knew there was a mini toolkit in the back. Underneath the spare wheel. Leah was sure there was a crowbar in there she could use as a weapon. There was no time to arm herself with anything else. He’d said half an hour.
Her watch told her it had already been fifteen minutes since she’d left the Trents’s house after he’d told her where to meet him.
The sign came into view. Even though it was just outside Forley, she’d only ever used the front of the property to turn her car around on a handful of occasions. She stopped in the middle of the road. The cars behind her passed by. Would any of them be watching in their rear mirrors for where she was going? She couldn’t hesitate.
Leah tried to swallow her fear as she turned right and headed over the gravelled area, her tyres popping as she drove straight through the rusted and now open gates of the old pig farm.
Chapter Forty-Six
Tate’s instructions on the phone had been clear. Come to Enclosure D. We’ll be waiting.
As she passed through the third open gate, the space opened up and Leah was surprised at just how big the pig farm was. She halted the car at a blue metal sign on a low brick wall and squinted through the rust spots. An arrow pointed right to B–D so she followed it around a curved overgrown track until she came to a large, dilapidated corrugated iron building.
Decelerating she scanned the lichen-coated metal façade and spotted a faded yellow B above the double sliding doors at the front. She shifted off again, the track getting progressively more overgrown as she passed C and then came to the last corrugated structure, slumped and skulking under the soiled silver clouds.
It was the largest one and the sliding door was open, a square of solid darkness awaiting her arrival. Leah turned off the engine and registered how quiet it was. She couldn’t even hear the traffic on Plough Lane and she remained in her seat, scrutinising the enclosure and its surroundings. Behind it she could see a barbed-wire boundary fence, ragged plastic and rubbish clinging to the top. Tate had brought her to the furthest outbuilding from the road.
Rain started pattering lightly on the roof of the car.
The farm had clearly been abandoned for some time. It had certainly been closed as long as she and Elliot had lived in Forley and it was definitely a place where Tate wouldn’t have any interruptions.
Leah wondered: if she walked in there, would she ever walk out again? But she had to go inside. The longer she hesitated, the harder it would be. She balled her insides in readiness and heaved herself out of the car. She closed the door and the harsh sound bounced off the building. Was he watching her now?
She went to the rear of the car and found the rolled-up leather toolkit. The mini crowbar was the heaviest. Her hand shook as she replaced the rest and shut the door. She locked the car and pocketed the key. It was a long way back to the main gate.
Taking a few steps forward, boots crunching on the damp gravel, she tried to prevent her frame trembling by gripping the crowbar harder. She slowed and stopped. Her attention was on the black space before her. She couldn’t go in there. It had to be a trap. Was Elliot even still alive? She’d been batting away that thought since their phone conversation but now she had to consider the implications. With the Trents dead, Leah might be the only one left who’d seen Tate’s face. If she entered, she would surely be making his job easy.
But she had to keep reminding herself that Tate could have disposed of her when she’d been unconscious in Alice Booth’s home. Maybe he’d changed his mind now though. Perhaps he’d realised she was too much of a liability and had to be quickly dealt with. Why else lure her here?
She couldn’t physically put another foot forward. The silent blackness before her looked impenetrable. There was no glimpse of anything beyond it. ‘I’m here,’ she declared and it was loud enough to echo back from the interior.
No reply from within.
‘Where’s Elliot?’ Her right leg quivered, and she readjusted her footing.
Silence.
He was somewhere near, waiting for her to go inside. Would the door slam on her? Would she find Elliot in the same state as the Trents and would he then kill her and take his time afterwards? ‘I’m not coming inside until I see him.’ She shot a glance behind, expecting Tate to be stealing up on her.
She turned quickly to the front again and waited. The wind blew suddenly hard at her right side and she twisted her head so her ear wasn’t blocked by the blast. He wasn’t going to respond. He’d told her where she had to go.
It felt like a significant exertion to move herself forward but she managed to cover another few feet. It took her close enough to the building to hear liquid dripping rhythmically inside.
But now she could make out some shapes ahead. The low rails of the pig pens and the long feed troughs below. Leah kept moving steadily forward, her ears straining for other sounds.
She reached the doors and peered left and right. Nobody was lurking either side of the runners in the floor. A chain and padlock lay just inside. Even though the place had been empty for so long, a mixture of ingrained and sour smells prickled her nose – swine and feed and urine. She fought back a cough, let her eyes get used to the gloom. The pens stretched away as far as she could see. It would have been deafening inside when it was full of livestock. ‘What now?’ She raised her voice.
Its resonation chilled her, the two words ricocheting off the walls. She still hadn’t stepped inside. But he knew she would. Leah guessed he wouldn’t speak until she had. She brandished the mini crowbar but the cold metal in her palm didn’t make her feel any less vulnerable.
She took two paces forward and the atmosphere settled on her, the aroma suddenly cloying. She could see further inside but not as far as the back wall. She took out her phone and turned on the torch. There was a wide concrete walkway ahead that bisected the pens either side. Leah headed tentatively down it, her footfalls fed back to her as she shone the beam into each pen she passed.
Half a minute later the torch caught the edge of a sign above.
DISPATCH AND PROCESSING. BOOTS AND OVERALLS TO BE WORN AT ALL TIMES.
Her skin tightened on her scalp as she realised she was walking into an abattoir. Leah was a vegetarian and hadn’t eaten meat since the turn of the century. This was the sort of vile place she’d only seen in documentaries. How many thousands of animals had passed through here, prodded and poked towards an undignified production-line fate?
Leah halted and shone the torch up ahead. It highlighted a corrugated wall with a smaller doorway. Thick, faded blue strips of plastic hung down in place of a door. Goods in and out but enough of a barrier to keep the flies away.
A low tapping noise came from behind her.
Leah whirled around, crowbar and torch held up. The beam caught a small furry body as it darted out of sight, her glimpse of its link tail confirming what it was. She restrained the revulsion she would normally have felt. Had the rat been the only source of the sound? She could see the daylight through the doorway behind her, but it seemed so far away now.
She quickly returned the light to the entrance up ahead. ‘You’ve got me inside. Speak to me.’
He didn’t.
Leah had to walk through the drapes. As soon as she did, she’d be away from the daylight. But even if he’d attacked her at the car, nobody would have heard. She was alone with no choice.
Leah could hear the circulation pumping through her whole frame as she continued ahead and put her hand on the cold plastic.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Leah passed through the drapes, her arm extended as she shone her torch ahead. There was a different aroma in here. A richer but gamier smell. She had to be near the back of the structure by now. The beam picked up the edge of what she initially thought was a table but as she played the light over it, she could see it was a large circular conveyor belt.
The torch caught some shapes above and as Leah illuminated them, she realised they were rows of hooks. This was definitely where the animals used to be slaughtered. She tilted the phone down and could see the large open drain-hole at the centre of a metallic basin.
The drapes closed behind her and she darted the beam around the corrugated walls. Any moment she expected it to pick out a face. His face. But as she breathed erratically with each movement of the light, she couldn’t see any sign of him or Elliot.
Beyond a large rusted white gas cylinder which was connected to a hose gun on a stand she could discern two aluminium doors. They were part of a small box structure to the right of the space. Leah stood still for a moment and listened.
The only noise was a low wind blowing through the gaps in the roof and the rain rattling behind it.
She clutched the crowbar. ‘Are you in here?’
Something scuttled to her right, but her torch wasn’t fast enough to pinpoint it. She started walking towards the doors, swinging the beam from side to side and up to the steel joists above until she was standing at the bottom of three metallic steps that led up to a platform.
The steps complained as she put her weight onto them, and the platform wobbled slightly when she was standing between the two doors. They both had identical rusted steel handles.
She had to open them. That was the reason he’d directed her in here. Was he waiting behind one? She strained her ears for sounds of breathing. Nothing. That scared her even more. What if Elliot was here, left to suffocate? She was wasting time.
She chose the left door in front of her, raised the crowbar and tugged the handle with her other. She aimed the light inside.
It was a refrigeration room, more hooks dangling from rails. There was debris on the floor – beer cans and cigarette ends. She could also make out some used syringes there as well. How old were they and had Tate subdued Elliot by injecting him?
She turned around suddenly, expecting somebody to be preparing to push her inside but there was no movement and only the noise of her feet settling on the platform.
Leah began to feel that she was alone. And the notion that the next room was empty too seemed more terrifying than finding Tate in it. Was he just stringing her along, enjoying her torment? She tugged the second door, bracing herself for what she’d find.
The torch hit the blank rust-spotted back wall with its identical rails and hooks. She flitted it around the floor. More leftovers from a junkie party.
There was a dark shape there though. To the right and towards the rear. Leah’s beam halted on it. She ran it down its length and could make out the dirty soles of a pair of trainers. The light trembled as she tried to hold it steady. ‘Who is that?’
