The Slow Road to Hell

by Grant Atherton

  His method of examination was restricted to holding up a single finger and asking me to count them, asking me my name and age, and checking my ability to recall what day it was and the name of the current Prime Minster. I passed with flying colours.

  "There are no signs of any underlying injury," the doctor said, brightly. "But we'll keep you in overnight to be on the safe side."

  "No." I objected.

  "Yes," said Nathan. "And if he causes you any trouble, call me and I'll send someone over to arrest him."

  "Oh." The doc didn't sound so sparky now.

  "He's joking," I said. "He has a strange sense of humour."

  Nathan fixed me with a steely gaze. "Don't be so sure."

  I decided not to risk it.

  "I'll pick you up in the morning," Nathan said.

  "I'll be right here, ready and raring to go."

  "Good. You'll need to be. Tomorrow's going to be a busy day. We're going body hunting."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The weather wasn't any better the following day. But after a sleepless night in the local hospital, the prospect of tramping through Tinkers Woods on a wet and windy day seemed a positive improvement. I was still complaining to Nathan about what I saw as my enforced hospital stay.

  "Stop carping," he said. "It's always best to be on the safe side with these things."

  "I'd rather have spent a day in prison."

  "Don't tempt me."

  We were crossing the courtyard at the front of Black's house. A team of four uniformed officers were over at the far side being prepped by Lowe.

  He turned to face us as we made our way toward him over the icy paving. His downcast expression suggested all was not well. "We have a problem."

  "What now?" Nathan sounded less upbeat than he had a moment ago.

  "The dog handler hasn't turned up. It seems they didn't have anyone to spare at the last moment."

  "Oh, that's great. So we're just wasting our time."

  "Perhaps not. Maybe I could help," I said.

  "Really? And just what were you thinking of doing? Getting down on you hands and knees and sniffing around." Nathan was getting snappy.

  For one wild moment I considered reminding him that it wouldn't be the first time I'd got down on my hands and knees for him. But sanity kicked in and I decided that maybe discretion was called for. Instead, I said, "It just needs some applied psychology."

  Nathan said, "I don't know what you have in mind, but these woods cover a very wide area, and with the best will in the world, I don't think we can do anything useful here without a dog."

  "Listen to me for a moment. The woods are too dense to have driven over from any of the other access points so if our theory is correct and Black is our second murder victim, our hypothetical murderer either walked through the woods or drove along Vicarage Lane. Okay with me so far?"

  "As far as it goes, yes."

  "We've already concluded that if our murderer did drive here, he's unlikely to have then moved the body by road. Why take the risk when Black's house backs onto convenient secluded woodland?"

  I pointed to the gate leading into the woods. "There's no other way into the woods from this side, and with no access for a vehicle from either side, our murderer would have had to move the body on foot. Okay?" I paused for confirmation.

  Nathan accepted the point.

  "Good. Now come over here." I led the way to the gate.

  Nathan, Lowe and the constables followed on behind. The smell of damp earth was strong here.

  "Look at the terrain," I said. "It's been raining for weeks. The ground is muddy. And whilst that might mean that any signs of activity have been washed away, it must also have caused problems for our hypothetical murderer, or murderers if there was more than one."

  "How does that help us?" asked Lowe.

  "You have to try to see the situation from their point of view. They're carrying a dead weight, literally, and whilst they're going to want to dispose of the body as far from the beaten track as possible, they're not going to want to make it too hard on themselves."

  Lowe interjected again. "So they won't have gone too far into the woods."

  "Exactly. And look how the ground slopes over there." I pointed to a spot in front of us. "Admittedly, it's not much of a slope but look at how muddy and wet it is. Our murderer would have trouble carrying a body that way."

  "So he's more likely to have skirted around it," Nathan said.

  "Yes. So you should be checking the ground to the left and right around the edge of the slope."

  Lowe said, "That still leaves a lot of ground to cover."

  Nathan took over. "Well, that's where applied psychology leaves off and basic tracking skills take over. Despite the heavy rains, there's still a covering of leaf mulch on those areas away from the trail. Even if most signs of ground disturbance have been washed away by the rain, the murderer would have had to dig through and destroy the ground cover. So we should be looking for any spots where there's a distinct lack of leaf mulch."

  Lowe assented. "We'll split into two groups and take either side of the path. Did you get all of that, guys?"

  Satisfied with the expressions of confirmation, he led the way through the gate, split the men into two groups, leading one group to the left and sending the other to the right."

  Once they were out of earshot, Nathan said, "Maybe you have your uses after all."

  "I'm not saying we'll find anything, but at least it's worth a try. Your men were already here and we have nothing to lose."

  "Maybe. But I'm still pissed off about the lack of support from the dog unit. We're always under threat from Government cuts but God knows how we're supposed to do our jobs when basic resources are constantly being depleted. I guess we have to do the best we can. It's a sign of the times."

  "As one of my more alliterative friends used to say, 'fucked by the fickle finger of fate'."

  Nathan grunted. "It's good to know you have friends who appreciate the higher art forms."

  I snorted. "Careful, Nathan, you almost cracked a joke there."

  "Purely unintentional I assure you."

  Nearby, rain dripped from the trees and splashed to the ground around us.

  "I miss this," I said.

  "What?"

  "The way we used to spark off each other. I miss it." A sense of emptiness and loss swept through me. There was a lump in my throat. "I'll go and wait in the car. No point standing around in the cold." I left him there and hurried over to the Astra.

  I sat in the car and stared out in front of me. Rivulets of water ran down the windscreen and rain clattered on the roof.

  After all this was over, I would have to start making plans. Another chapter in my life over. Time to start afresh. But I had no real sense of what I wanted and where I was heading. I was so alone.

  The driver side door opened and Nathan slid in beside me. "Are you okay?" He sounded puzzled.

  I couldn't speak. I nodded, stared straight ahead.

  "Something's wrong," he said.

  I turned to face him and smiled. "I'm okay. I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed. The stress of the last few days is catching up with me I guess."

  "What will you do when all this is over?"

  He must have read my mind. "I wish I knew."

  He grunted in response. There was nothing he could say.

  "I'll be okay," I said, trying to sound confident.

  "Mikey ..." He paused for a moment, as if unsure what to say.

  But the moment passed. We were interrupted by a shout from the far side of the courtyard. Lowe stood by the gate, waving his arms in our direction.

  Nathan went back into professional mode. "Looks like they've found something." He was out of the car and running towards the woods.

  By the time I reached them, Nathan was standing by the partially exposed remains of a decomposing body, barking out orders and clearing the site. It looked as if we had found our man.

  CHAPTER THIRTY


  The hum of conversation increased as more and more members of the local force entered the room. It was the day after Black's body had been unearthed and we were back in the large meeting room at the rear of Elders Edge Police Station. Nathan, Lowe and I sat facing two rows of metal-framed chairs which gradually filled as the assembled group of police officers seated themselves. I got a few disconcerting looks. No doubt my current starring role in the media had been the subject of much lurid gossip and my presence here would raise a few eyebrows.

  Once everyone was in place, Nathan opened the meeting and the conversation died down.

  "Most of you guys are well acquainted with this investigation," he said, "but for the benefit of those of you who've just joined us, I'll go over what we have so far."

  He brought the group up to date on the current situation; two murders within a few days of each other, cause of death being the same in both cases.

  After appraising the group of the possible theft of the laptop from Black's place and the break-in at the vicarage, he admitted that the investigating team had failed to find any useful evidence and it was still unclear if either incident was connected to the murders.

  He said, "We've not been able to establish a motive or a clear link between the victims but the Medical Examiner's report shows that both died in a similar manner. In Black's case, there were other injuries, blunt force trauma consistent with a beating but the actual cause of death in both cases was strangulation."

  A uniformed officer on the front row interrupted. "Do we know if the two victims were known to each other?"

  "We've been unable to establish a close personal tie between the two men," said Nathan. "But we do know that they met and had some sort of disagreement before they were murdered."

  Someone else asked, "Have we been able to establish the exact time of death? Were they killed at the same time?"

  "We don't yet have a clear idea of the timing. But from witness evidence, we've been able to establish when they were both last seen - or rather last heard - alive. As that was in the last few days, we can say for sure that both deaths occurred, if not at the same time, within a short time of each other."

  Lowe took over. "In view of the new developments, we're going to re-interview all those who knew both Owen MacGregor and Malcolm Black. That will include family members and work colleagues. And we'll be looking for connections between the two."

  Nathan confirmed his Sergeant's directive and said, "And that's where Mr MacGregor here comes in." He tilted his head in my direction. "Most of you will know Michael MacGregor as Owen MacGregor's son. However, he's here today in his professional capacity as a forensic psychologist. I've asked him to appraise our witness statements and sit in on future interviews. Mr MacGregor has experience in this field and has been of some professional assistance to other police forces in the UK."

  I affirmed this and said, "I'm sure you'll all appreciate that I'm as eager as anyone here to track down my father's murderer. I'll be glad to give whatever assistance I can."

  Someone at the back called out, "Is Mr MacGregor sure he can give the investigation his full attention given all his current problems?"

  A ripple of laughter ran around the room. Nathan shuffled in his chair.

  I smiled and said, "Having a close relative murdered tends to focus your attention remarkably well." The laughter died. Touché.

  Lowe took over again and allocated each of the assembled group to their working teams and outlined their respective duties, including more house to house enquiries for the uniforms and interviews of family, friends and colleagues for the plainclothes.

  During this assignment process my mobile buzzed. It was Karen. She knew I was taking part in this meeting so it must have been something that couldn't wait.

  I leaned over to Nathan and whispered, "I need to take this."

  The meeting was coming to a close anyway and I wouldn't be needed so I left the room, answered the call, and closed the door behind me.

  "I have Erin Corby here," Karen said. "She wanted to speak to you and I wasn't sure if I should tell her you'd moved out."

  "Keep her there," I said. "The meeting is finishing now so I'll come on over. I'll be no more than a minute or so."

  I finished the call as the door opened. The assorted team members filed out in small groups, chatting amiably. I stepped back and waited for Lowe to appear. He and Nathan came out together. I told them where I was going and that I would get in touch later to discuss future developments. We agreed to meet that afternoon and Nathan excused himself and returned to his office. I put a restraining hand on Lowe's arm and once Nathan was out of earshot, I asked him about his follow-up enquiries on Adam Corby's journeys to and from Vicarage Lane.

  "You say you spoke to Adam Corby," I said, "but did Erin confirm what he said?"

  Lowe scratched his head. "Not that I recall. I was satisfied with his explanation and didn't see any need to question it further."

  I murmured an acknowledgement.

  "Besides," he continued, "I spoke with Giles Trivett later that day, and Frances Trivett confirmed his explanation. Why do you ask?"

  "No reason. I'm on my way to meet Erin and it crossed my mind."

  Lowe raised his brows. He was puzzled, but I wasn't about to enlighten him yet. I needed to check out something first.

  As I crossed the reception toward the main entrance, Nathan appeared from his office and stopped me. "I've had confirmation that your father's body has been released. So you can go ahead and make arrangements for the funeral."

  I nodded my acknowledgement, and he went on, "I'm sorry about that quip in the meeting. I'll let the team know that sort of behaviour is not acceptable."

  "Oh please. There's no need. It's just a nine-day wonder. That's something I'm going to have to get used to until the heat dies down."

  Jibes at my expense were the least of my concerns right now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Karen and Erin were seated around the gas fire in Karen's private sitting room, chatting over cups of coffee. Karen made her excuses when I arrived, vanishing into reception, and I settled myself into the armchair she had just vacated.

  Erin put her empty cup on the small occasional table. "Sorry about turning up like this. But you said you were staying here, and I wanted to return this." She reached down to a handbag at the side of her chair and produced my mother's bracelet.

  I took it from her with grateful thanks. "I hope I've not made things difficult for you," I said.

  Erin pulled a wry face. "Someone has to look out for the child. Her dad's not doing so well."

  I pocketed the bracelet. "It must be hard for him too."

  "It's not easy for a man like him having to raise a teenage daughter. But he can be a bit strict at times."

  "I'm sure you do what you can."

  "I do my best. And I'm ever so grateful to you for not going to the police. You would have been entitled."

  I dismissed her thanks. "I know it must be hard for the child. And I wouldn't want to add to the family's problems in the circumstances." As an afterthought, I asked, "Does her father know about this?"

  "No. I thought it best not to tell him." More emphatically, she added, "But I'll not go easy on her. There'll be big trouble if she tries something like this again. And I'll be keeping a close eye on her from now on."

  "I'm happy to leave it to you," I said, and added, "Counselling isn't my particular field of expertise but, even so, if I can ever be of any help, just ask."

  Erin thanked me. "I'll bear it in mind. But you have troubles enough of your own at the moment." She gestured toward a folded newspaper lying on the table. "The sort of nonsense these papers dream up is disgraceful."

  I pulled a face and said, "It's a consequence of being in the public eye." I was happy to let her go on thinking it was nonsense.

  As if on cue, the sound of laughter carried through from the reception and we both glanced towards the door.

  Erin said, "They're still
here. Those reporters. Asking lots of questions."

  "They'll soon find something else to write about and move on."

  "I shouldn't think they'll be leaving soon," she said. "Not after this terrible news about Dr Black. Everyone is talking about it. It makes you wonder if it's safe to walk the streets. Things like that don't happen in a place like this."

  "Did you know Dr Black?"

  "Everyone knew Dr Black. A lovely man. He was our doctor. And I cleaned for him so I got to know him quite well."

  "I hadn't realised. It must be particularly upsetting for you, knowing both victims."

  Erin grimaced. "No more than anyone else. In a small place like this you get to know most people."

  "Did Dr Black and my father know each other? I mean, did they socialise at all?"

  "Not that I know of. I never saw them together and neither of them ever said anything to suggest it. But then Dr Black was never one for mixing. Kept himself to himself. I used to feel sorry for him. All alone in that big house. But it was his choice I suppose."

  She reached down to the side of her chair, picked up her bag and stood up. "I mustn't keep you any longer. I'm sure you have a lot to do."

  I stood and patted my pocket. "Thanks again for this."

  I walked her to the door, and we said our goodbyes. As she was about to leave, I said, " I suppose you must get to know a lot of the local people in your line of work."

  "I suppose so."

  "Do you work for the Trivetts?"

  "They don't need any help. Frances is the domestic type."

  "She's a friend of yours, isn't she?"

  "We've known each other for years. I've not seen much of her recently though."

  "Really? I understood you often kept each other company when Giles was away."

  "We did, yes. But she's been busy helping Giles with parish matters over the past few weeks so we've not had time to catch up."

  It seemed my suspicions were correct after all. I let Erin go, closed the door behind her, and made my way back to my chair.