Gone to Ground

by Rachel Amphlett

  Many of the houses along the lane were older buildings that had been renovated over time. David Carter’s home stood out from the rest as it was only a few years old, and modern in design.

  Box-like appendages stuck out from the top left-hand side of the house, while a long rectangular window began to the right of the front door and ran the length of the building, the interior hidden behind darkened privacy glass.

  Gavin released the handbrake and edged the car forward as the gates opened inwards, and Kay marvelled at the landscaping that hugged the asphalt driveway, while a mixture of mature trees shielded the building from its neighbours.

  ‘Wow. This is like something off that television programme with all the flash houses,’ she said.

  ‘I’d hate to think how much it cost.’

  ‘IT consulting must be doing all right.’

  The front door opened as Gavin eased the car to a halt and Kay climbed out.

  David Carter stood on the step, his grey hair cut medium length, his blue eyes expectant. He wore a pale blue shirt over cream-coloured trousers and held out his hand as they approached.

  ‘I hope this isn’t a waste of time, detectives, but I thought I should phone you when I saw the news.’

  ‘We appreciate it,’ said Kay, stepping over the threshold and wiping her feet on a mat that stretched across a polished concrete floor. ‘We’d rather hear from people who think they might have something for us than be left wondering.’

  He closed the door after Gavin and beckoned to them.

  ‘My office is upstairs. Don’t worry about your shoes. Come on up.’

  He led the way across a hallway and up a staircase that was hugged on either side by bright red walls interspersed with alcoves. In each, a sculpture or piece of high end bric-à-brac sat positioned under a spotlight, and Kay took her time to admire the pieces as she followed Carter and Gavin.

  At the top, the IT consultant stood to one side, and Kay found herself in an open plan office, the likes of which she’d never seen before.

  She realised she was standing at the edge of the box-shaped structures she’d seen from the driveway, which on the inside created a series of large alcoves around a central working area.

  In one, a hammock hung from the ceiling with a tall lamp to one side for reading. In another, a series of bookshelves had been fixed so each would slide out towards the room, an index system inscribed on the end so Carter could see at a glance what was inside.

  Along the left-hand wall, a floor–to-ceiling window had been set into each of the alcoves, sending light streaming into the workplace.

  ‘This is amazing,’ she managed.

  Carter grinned. ‘I’d always wanted a working space like this when I was travelling around the world. When I started my own business, I thought “why not?” Some might say it’s pretentious, but I like it.’ He gestured towards the desk. ‘I’ve got the security footage on my laptop here. I realise you’ll want all of the recordings, but I couldn’t resist taking a look myself. I know most of my neighbours’ vehicles, see? But I haven’t spotted this one before, which is why I called you.’

  They followed him and waited while he logged in and brought up the imagery on screen.

  Kay leaned closer as the pictures sprung to life when he pressed another key.

  The summer nights had been clear with a moon halfway through its cycle, and the lane outside Carter’s house had been bathed in a cool blue light at the time of the recording.

  ‘When was this taken?’

  ‘This is from five nights ago. Each film is saved in two-hour blocks,’ he said. ‘We’re about fifty-five minutes into this one. Here we go.’

  He tapped the screen as a pale-coloured pickup truck shot past the camera.

  ‘Can you slow down the footage?’ said Gavin.

  ‘Sure.’

  Carter reached out and tapped on the keyboard, resetting the recording to the point before the vehicle appeared, and then hit the “play” button once more.

  This time, the pickup crawled past, and Kay narrowed her eyes.

  ‘Any idea what make that is, Gav?’

  ‘Not from here, but it’s ancient – the shape is all wrong for any current makes or models. I reckon it has to be about twenty years old. And, even if we take a copy of this to Grey and his digital forensics team, it’s not going to be of much use to us yet. Look.’

  Kay swore under her breath.

  ‘It’s had its number plate removed, dammit.’

  Eight

  Kay pushed through the front door to her home and stumbled over the threshold, fatigue sweeping over her.

  She hadn’t even seen Adam that morning; he had left before daybreak after a phone call from a farmer out beyond Hacking who bred alpacas.

  Kay could hear him in the kitchen now, the beat of a knife on the chopping board and the pungent aroma of onion tickling her senses as she kicked off her shoes and dumped her bag on the bottom stair tread.

  She padded in bare feet along the hallway and tied her hair back into a ponytail before entering the kitchen and sliding onto one of the stools next to the worktop.

  Adam turned away from the cooker hob and smiled, a wooden spoon in his hand as he stirred the beginnings of a spaghetti Bolognese.

  She cast her eyes around the kitchen, confused.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he said.

  ‘No furry visitors?’

  He grinned. ‘I’ve got something special lined up for you, but you have to wait.’

  ‘Oh no. What? Please tell me it’s not another snake.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that to you again,’ he said. He balanced the spoon on the handle of the saucepan, then opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine before wandering over to the worktop where she sat.

  Kay slid two empty wine glasses towards him and waited while he poured a generous measure into each.

  ‘You’d better not,’ she said, clinking her glass against his.

  He winked, took a sip from his wine then moved back to the hob. ‘What time are Barnes and Pia getting here tomorrow night?’

  ‘I would imagine Barnes and I won’t finish until at least half past six, so half seven perhaps?’

  ‘Good – that gives me plenty of time to prepare for the barbecue.’

  Kay listened as Adam described his plans for what to cook the next night including locally sourced meat. He went out of his way to support others who were trying to keep old traditions alive, many of whom he met while he was doing his rounds of the Kentish farms near Maidstone.

  ‘Do you need me to pick up anything on the way home?’ she said, taking another sip of wine and setting down her glass on the worktop.

  ‘No, you’re fine – I picked up as much as I could today, and I’ve got Scott helping in surgery tomorrow. He’s offered to take on any emergencies that crop up tomorrow night, so I can relax for a bit.’

  ‘He seems to be settling in well.’

  ‘He is – and very business savvy for his age, too.’

  Scott Mildenhall had joined the practice eight months ago after Adam had managed to persuade him to leave the smaller clinic he’d been working at near Paddock Wood. With the promise of opportunities to broaden his horizons and work with bigger animals such as cattle and racehorses, Scott hadn’t needed much persuading. Kay had only met him once, but the thickset thirty-something had been friendly and keen to contribute to the success of the clinic, and Adam had grown to rely on him.

  ‘Where do you want to eat, in here or outside?’ said Kay.

  Adam left the hob and moved to the kitchen window, craning his neck. ‘In here, I reckon. They were forecasting a shower tonight. We should be okay for the barbecue tomorrow, though.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  Kay slipped from the bar stool and opened a drawer, collecting cutlery and placing it on the worktop before retrieving the wine bottle and topping up their glasses while Adam dished out spaghetti and sauce onto two square plates. He’d already grated a lar
ge pyramid-shaped pile of Parmesan cheese and as Kay sprinkled a generous amount over her dinner, her stomach rumbled loudly.

  ‘Good timing,’ said Adam, grinning. ‘Guess you didn’t get time to eat today?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘Well, don’t stand on ceremony – get stuck in before you pass out.’

  They fell silent as they ate, and Kay savoured every mouthful. She was lucky that Adam enjoyed cooking so much – her own attempts were limited to meals she’d prepared when still a student at university, and after one episode when Adam had witnessed her nearly remove her own thumb with a vegetable knife, she’d been relegated to chief dishwasher stacker.

  As she lowered her fork and spoon to her plate for the last time, her mobile phone started to ring.

  ‘Damn,’ she muttered, and hurried out to the hallway to retrieve it from her bag.

  Carys’s number appeared on the display.

  ‘Hey – what’s up?’

  ‘Switch the television on,’ said the young detective. ‘You’re not going to believe this.’

  Kay frowned, then shrugged at Adam who’d appeared at the kitchen door, both glasses of wine in his hands and a quizzical expression on his face.

  ‘Carys says to put the television on.’

  ‘The news finished ten minutes ago.’

  ‘I don’t know why, then – she said to switch it on.’

  He gestured towards the living room door with the glasses. ‘Lead the way.’

  Kay put her phone to her ear once more and made her way through to the living room, picking up the remote control from the coffee table as she sat down and aiming it at the television.

  ‘What’s going on, Carys?’

  ‘Change to the local channel, not the BBC.’

  Kay did as she was told, then swore profusely, her words echoed by Adam a split second later.

  On screen, Suzie Chambers presided over a small group of guests lined up on a bright red sofa, her face earnest as she spoke to the camera.

  ‘One of our local councillors, Mrs Helen Box, is here to talk about the effect this horrifying find has had on her local constituency, and to her left, we welcome Stephen Mannering, spokesman for the Friends of the Parish group who have offered support to anyone affected by these terrible events.’

  Kay groaned, dropped the remote onto the table in front of her, and took the glass Adam handed to her as he perched on the arm of the sofa.

  ‘How did you know?’ she said to Carys as she watched the proceedings on the television.

  ‘A mate of mine called me. Apparently, the programme is a new weekly current affairs thing the broadcaster is testing. Suzie’s role as presenter was kept under wraps for the past few months. First thing anyone knew about it was when they announced it after the six o’clock news and did a short promotional clip with Suzie saying she had an exclusive about the remains found yesterday. They ran the sports headlines, then cut straight into this.’

  She fell silent as the camera panned in on the local councillor’s face as Suzie questioned her about her concerns.

  ‘Well, I certainly think the police could be more cooperative with information being presented to the public,’ the woman sniffed. ‘After all, we have a duty of care to residents in the area.’

  ‘You don’t think what has been reported by the media so far is of assistance?’ said Suzie, crossing her legs and leaning forward.

  ‘I think the media are doing the best they can with the information they’ve got,’ said Helen Box. ‘What I’m saying is that there must be more they can tell local leaders, even if they’re not ready to share that information with the general public.’

  ‘I knew Box would cause trouble after I spoke with her earlier,’ said Kay.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Carys. ‘She’s out to make a name for herself before the next by-election. She knows you can’t give her any more information than we already have. She was fishing, that’s all.’

  Kay leaned back against the cushions. ‘I wonder what Suzie’s game is? Box and Mannering aren’t exactly exclusives, are they?’

  They both fell silent as Suzie thanked her two guests, then faced the camera, which zoomed in on her perfectly made-up face.

  Her expression turned serious as she spoke, her eyes conveying compassion and concern.

  ‘Great actress,’ said Carys.

  ‘Shh.’

  ‘Of course, any discovery of this gruesome nature is both shocking and traumatic for the members of the public involved,’ said Suzie, her voice betraying her excitement. ‘My next guest knows full well the emotional and physical impact such an experience can have, as he was present when his friend found the remains yesterday. Please welcome Paul Banks.’

  Kay choked on her wine. ‘Oh, bloody hell.’

  Nine

  Kay paced the floor in front of the whiteboard as the investigation team settled into their seats the next morning and called them to attention the moment the last person sat.

  ‘So, by now I’m assuming you’ve all heard about one of our witnesses’ brief foray into prime-time television.’

  A murmur of discontent carried through the room.

  ‘DCI Sharp and the media liaison team are currently meeting with Suzie Chambers and her producer and will be reminding them of their obligations in relation to responsible reporting in future. Given that they’ve caused irreparable damage to our investigation by interviewing Paul Banks, I have to say I’m glad I’m not at the receiving end of that conversation. In the meantime, Barnes – I want you to contact the other cyclists in the group, especially Lee Temple, and remind them of their obligations in relation to keeping quiet about what they found. You know the drill – make sure they do.’

  ‘Guv.’

  Kay tapped a photograph on the whiteboard that had been taken from the security footage on David Carter’s computer. ‘Piper – let’s have an update from you about the video we obtained, please.’

  ‘I’ve spoken with Andy Grey over at the digital forensics unit,’ said Gavin as he moved to the side of the room and turned to face his colleagues. ‘He’s currently working on enhancing what David Carter gave us to see if he can get a clearer picture of the driver’s face or anything that will help us trace the vehicle. I’ve requested he gives me a call the moment he finds anything to tie that pickup truck to the amputated foot that was found.’

  ‘What about other vehicles passing by?’ said Carys. ‘Could it have been a different one?’

  Gavin shook his head. ‘I’ve been working with Debbie and some of the other uniformed staff to go through all the footage for the ten days leading up to the discovery. Nothing passes on that side of the road that could be construed as a suspect vehicle. No vehicles slow down going past Carter’s house, so no-one stopped there and the others are registered with neighbouring properties.’

  ‘Are we sure the foot came from a vehicle, instead of being dumped there by a pedestrian?’ said an officer towards the back of the room.

  ‘It’s a point worth bearing in mind,’ said Kay. ‘At the moment, this vehicle is our priority though. If any of you obtain information that could mean a pedestrian was responsible through your enquiries, let Barnes or myself know immediately.’

  A murmur swept through the room.

  ‘I’ll be working with Maidstone Borough Council to obtain CCTV footage for the area, too,’ said Gavin. ‘We’ll try to trace the vehicle’s movements prior to it being spotted on Carter’s camera. Maybe that way, we can find out where it was going, or where it came from.’

  ‘Good,’ said Kay. ‘Speaking of the Borough Council, Carys – did you manage to set up a meeting to speak with their waste team?’

  ‘We’re booked in for two o’clock,’ said Carys. ‘I thought you might like to attend. I’m seeing someone called Robert Wilson.’

  ‘Thanks. Barnes – can you collate from uniform what information they’ve got on record so far with regard to local businesses? We’re looking for
anyone out of the way who might have access to the sort of tools it’d take to separate that foot from the rest of our victim’s body.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Does anyone have any questions, or are you all clear on today’s priorities?’

  When no-one spoke up, Kay ended the briefing and wound her way through the room to her desk.

  She sank into her chair and eyed the new emails from the personnel department that had appeared in her absence, then glanced longingly at the clock above the photocopier.

  Two o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

  Carys led the way from the incident room to the car park, catching the set of keys that Sergeant Hughes tossed to her as they passed the front desk, and calling her thanks over her shoulder as she and Kay pushed through the rear doors of the police station.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘The one with air conditioning.’ Carys grinned and headed towards a pale blue four-door vehicle at the outer fringes of the car park.

  ‘Hughes must be in a good mood, taking pity on us like that.’

  ‘I bought him an iced coffee and a pastry this morning.’

  ‘Devious. Nice work.’

  The Borough Council offices where they were headed was only a short distance as the crow flies from the police station, but due to roadworks and a convoluted diversion past the grammar school it took Carys over half an hour to reach the depot at Parkwood.

  They hurried towards the front doors of the low-slung building at five minutes to the hour.

  A blast of cold air conditioning welcomed Kay as she pushed her way through into the reception area and made her way over to the desk.

  The man behind the desk raised his gaze as she approached, and she noticed he had the unfortunate habit of pushing his glasses up his nose with his middle finger. She wondered how many visitors had taken the gesture the wrong way.

  ‘Can I help you?’ he said, his tone friendly enough.

  Kay introduced herself and Carys. ‘We’re here to meet with Robert Wilson.’