The Bone Keeper
Page 1
Praise for Then She Was Gone
‘A page-turner’
Sunday Times Crime Club
‘Veste’s Italian and Scouse heritage has produced an intriguing hothouse flower’
Financial Times
‘I loved it – I was gripped from the start and by the end I couldn’t leave it alone! A chilling story of power and revenge that made my blood run cold’
Jenny Blackhurst
‘Luca Veste’s Murphy and Rossi series hits the very pinnacle of modern crime fiction. Totally compelling’
Steve Cavanagh
‘Socially incisive, emotionally fraught and utterly gripping, Then She Was Gone is another triumph from Luca Veste and marks the coming of age of the Murphy and Rossi series’
Eva Dolan
‘Four books in and Murphy and Rossi’s Liverpool is as dark as the Mersey. With missing children and dodgy politicians proving Veste’s grip on social issues remains bang on the money, it’s all tied up in a breathtaking and satisfying plot’
Nick Quantrill
Praise for Bloodstream
‘This is a twisty, psychological crime debut in a gritty setting: a new favourite for police procedural lovers’
Clare Mackintosh
‘Luca Veste is leading the new wave in British crime fiction’
Jay Stringer
‘A dark, thrilling ride. Murphy and Rossi are getting better and better’
Stav Sherez
‘Astringent and artfully constructed crime writing that reinvigorates the shop-worn police procedural format’
Barry Forshaw, Crimetime
‘Top read for police-procedural aficionados looking for a fresh beat’
The Times and Sunday Times Crime Club
Praise for Dead Gone and The Dying Place
‘A darkly impressive first novel, disturbing and intelligent’
The Times
‘A chilling debut from a writer to watch’
Mark Billingham
‘Slick and twisted. Dead Gone is a sophisticated début exploring the warped psychology of a serial-killer to remember and an enthralling journey into the darkest of nightmares’
Will Carver
‘Dark, tense and terrifying, Dead Gone is a remarkable début. It lives and breathes Liverpool, a city terrorised by the twisted psychological experiments of a serial killer. Luca Veste is a name destined for great things’
Helen FitzGerald
‘Luca Veste is a fresh, innovative and powerful new voice in crime fiction. His début novel Dead Gone is a truly original and chilling book that will stay with you long after you’ve finished reading it. A story so startling, disturbing and twisted, I wish I’d thought of it. You might not want to read this one before bedtime’
Howard Linskey
‘Gripping and well-paced, this is a superior piece of crime fiction. Murphy and Rossi are a cracking double act sure to find plenty of fans’
Emlyn Rees
‘Luca Veste hits the ground running with a gripping and shocking crime début that will make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up’
Mark Edwards
‘Gripping, unpredictable, genuinely shocking and impossible to put down, Dead Gone is a remarkable début’
Steve Mosby
This one’s for Emma.
My wife and best friend.
I wouldn’t want to share this
life with anyone else.
Author Note
All of the locations found in this book exist; however, some minor details have been changed or expanded to better tell this story.
The Bone Keeper’s coming.
The Bone Keeper’s real.
He doesn’t stop.
He doesn’t feel.
He’ll snatch you up.
And make you weep.
He’ll slice your flesh.
Your bones he’ll keep.
Before
Her story begins in the tunnel.
The soft ground underneath her feet as she walked through. The calm swoosh of air, lightly caressing her face. The sounds coming from the darkness. The echoes. Rage. The smell of death, clawing at her skin.
That’s what she’ll always remember.
The tunnel.
Four of them would walk through it. Silent and alone. One after the other.
Three would come out.
Before the tunnel, it had been a different evening. Crisp autumn air swirled around the group as they walked into the woods. She was eleven years old, following her brother Matty. He was three years older, but not much wiser. Two other kids shuffled alongside them, Lee and Faye, her new stepdad’s niece and nephew, around the same age as them. It was nothing more than a game, an adventure of sorts. They weren’t supposed to be playing out this far away from the house, but it was half-term in October and they were kids.
They were invincible.
‘Come on,’ she said, taking the lead and walking with what she wanted to look like confidence. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
She passed the sign that said ‘Dibbinsdale Nature Reserve’ and the picnic tables on the right and followed the path into the trees. Overhead, it was growing even darker. Black clouds gathering. If they had come a week later, it would have been almost night already, but there was still some light left as the evening drew on.
It wouldn’t last.
‘It’s going to rain.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Matty said, catching up to her. ‘We’ve got the trees. Nature’s umbrella.’
She saw the grin appear and then vanish. A last remnant of the pre-teenage boy she used to know. They crossed a wooden bridge, Matty and Lee throwing small, thick branches into the water as they did so. She paused, watching the water bubble and quiver occasionally.
‘Think there’s any fish in there?’
‘Nah,’ Faye said, standing beside her as she rested her hands on the old wood. ‘They wouldn’t survive.’
The bubbles came up and made concentric circles in the water. She stared at it a little longer, squinting as the light continued to fade around them. Then she followed the rest, as their voices continued on the path. The path became a little wider, before shortening up again as they followed it around tall reeds, sunk into marshland.
It became slushier underfoot as they approached the place they’d come there to see. She brushed her foot against a single grey feather, slowing her pace.
‘This is the place.’
A hush fell over them. The wind rippled unseen trees, leaves and branches coming to life. The air grew colder as they came to a stop ahead of her.
‘You think it’s real?’ Matty said, trying to sound jokey and brave. She knew it was an act now. The previous confidence slowly evaporating, as reality set in.
‘The Bone Keeper lives here,’ Lee replied, his whisper almost lost in the movement of the trees above them. ‘People have seen it.’
She reached the other three, standing on another wooden bridge looking away from her approach. The tunnel came into view as she stopped beside them.
‘Who’s going in first?’ Matty said, the bravado slipping from his voice now they were there.
‘I reckon it should be Matty,’ Lee replied, turning to look at the other teenager. ‘Ladies first.’
She shivered as a slow breeze came through the trees and the air grew colder still. A few raindrops fell in the water, the pitter and pat breaking into the suffocating silence.
‘Why should it be me? Are you scared?’
‘You think I haven’t done this before?’
‘Yeah, right,’ Matty said, a smile creeping across his face. ‘You would never dare do anything like this . . .’
‘I’ll go first.’
They turned towards Faye, eyebrows
raised at the small voice suddenly piping up. If she’d had to bet, she would never have guessed it would have been the little waif of a girl, a year younger than even she was, who would have volunteered to go through first.
In front of them, a short walk from the end of the bridge and a stone path just like all the other paths before, were two tunnels. One half was bricked up, the other . . . the other was not.
It’s called Otter’s Tunnel, Fake-dad had said to her earlier that day. Used to be water running right through it and they reckon otters lived in there once upon a time. Couple of hundred years since then though. Now, it’s just a few bats and maybe a couple of rats.
She’d shuddered at the thought then and did so again now. Matty gave her a look, so she rubbed her arms as if she were cold.
‘I’m going through it now,’ Faye said, beginning to walk away. ‘Can’t be bothered standing around just looking at it.’
She watched as Faye continued to walk towards the path, Matty and Lee exchanging looks and then shrugging.
‘You’re really going to let a ten-year-old girl do it before you?’ she said, suppressing a giggle. ‘Yeah, you two are dead hard.’
Matty and Lee shot her a look, disgust and annoyance. A little fear still there too, just on the edges. They waited for Faye to leave, each taking up a position almost in single file.
She went through the tunnel third, after the other two idiot kids went first. She would have happily done it sooner, given how stupid the entire thing seemed to be. No excited shrieks or howls of fear. It was a little boring, if she was honest. It seemed to be a short walk, given the muted shouts she heard once the others had made it to the other side.
Then, it was her turn.
She stepped towards the tunnel, straining to see the pinpoint of the exit at the end of it. Only dim light was around them now, as the evening drew in. The darkness beginning to take hold, sunlight disappearing and making the air thin and lifeless.
‘Are you scared?’
She turned towards Matty, who was swaying from one foot to the other. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Why are you just standing there then? It’s your turn.’
‘Do you want to go first?’
Matty smiled back at her – that sickly one he always used when he had the upper hand. ‘And leave you on this side alone? Bet you wouldn’t like that. Just get going. We’ll have to go back soon.’
She didn’t know the time, but she expected it was past that magical time parents had, when it suddenly went from being fine to being FAR TOO LATE. She tried to work out how long it would take them to get back from where they were, but couldn’t remember the length of the walk now. They would probably have to come back through the tunnel as well. Maybe all together this time, although she expected the boys would take the opportunity to make it appear more scary than it actually was.
‘Come on, are you going to do it or not? Getting bored now.’
‘I’m going, I’m going,’ she replied, her voice echoing around the silent woods. ‘You’re just scared yourself, that’s all. Want me to back out, so you don’t have to do it.’
‘That’s stupid, I was happy to go first, if those two hadn’t wanted to show off.’
‘Yeah, I believe you. Honest.’
‘What do you think of them?’
She studied her brother, recognising the way he had thrust his hands in his pockets and was kicking the ground. This was Matty wanting to know if things were going to be okay – whether he should be worried about what was to come.
He was the older brother, but more and more it seemed like she was supposed to look after him.
‘They’re annoying Wirral brats,’ she replied, a grin appearing on her face. ‘They would last five seconds on our side of the river. But, they’re all right. I suppose. Not like we have to spend too much time with them.’
‘I hope Mum isn’t thinking of moving over here,’ Matty said, still looking towards the ground rather than at her. ‘Not sure I could deal with that.’
‘We’ve been through worse.’
This time Matty did look up at her, a pained, scrunched up look on his face as he shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’ Then he gave her that smile she always looked forward to.
‘Come on,’ he said, taking his hands out of his pockets and pointing towards the tunnel. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
She turned and began to walk, allowing herself to cross the threshold into the tunnel. At first there was still some light behind her, so she could see where she was walking. It didn’t take long for that to change. The light disappeared, making it difficult to keep her bearings, as the darkness within the tunnel took hold.
The water beside the path was still, no sounds coming from that direction at all. She concentrated on walking forwards, squinting into the distance to focus on where she expected the exit to appear.
She was halfway there when the smell hit her.
It turned her stomach, making her gag. She stopped walking, bending over with her hand over her mouth. It was a revolting stench, her eyes watering instantly. She shuffled forwards, ready to have a go at the two little brats who hadn’t warned them of it.
Then she heard a noise.
A shift, nothing more. A small sound, which would have been unnoticeable outside. Inside the tunnel, it was as loud as a roar.
For a moment, her body betrayed her. She stopped in her tracks, unable to move. Her heartbeat increased tenfold, a churning feeling in the pit of her stomach. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, whipped up by the draught of breeze that came through the tunnel.
The sound came again. Turned into a whistle. A breathy tune.
A tune she recognised.
The Bone Keeper’s coming. The Bone Keeper’s real . . .
‘Lee,’ she whispered, too afraid to raise her voice any louder. ‘If that’s you I’m going to kill you.’
The whistling stopped, replaced by another sound. A growl? A laugh? She couldn’t tell anymore.
This time, her body obeyed her and she found herself able to move. She didn’t think twice, breaking into a jog, hoping she was facing the correct direction. She could feel the ground beneath her grow softer, muddier, as she moved along it. She was worried about slipping, but couldn’t stop herself now.
If she fell in there, she wouldn’t know what to do.
She imagined the sound was following her, but didn’t stop moving in the direction of the pinpoint of light, now growing larger.
There was something in the tunnel. Something watching, lurking in the shadows. Now, she could almost picture whatever it was following her as she broke into a run. Could hear it slithering along the path, ready to catch her.
She burst out of the tunnel, collapsing to the floor in front of the other two children and dropping at their feet. She turned back around, expecting there to be someone emerging. Ready to catch her, now her legs had finally given way.
‘What’s up?’ Lee said, grabbing her by the arm. ‘Got scared, did you?’
She couldn’t speak, breathing heavily, long gasps of fresh air. Instead, she stared towards the tunnel, unable to see anything within.
She wanted to scream Matty’s name. Warn him, tell him what she had heard, seen, felt.
She couldn’t make a sound.
Couldn’t tell Matty to stop. That something was in there.
Warn him not to go through.
Warn him that it wasn’t safe.
She would never see her brother again.
Now
It is as if the world shifted in its sleep, and one of its ideas escaped and became real.
Steve Mosby, Black Flowers
One
Louise Henderson was sitting in her car, trying to breathe, when the call came in.
She didn’t believe in fate or being able to see the future. Yet, it was almost as if her body had known what was about to happen. That it was trying to sound a warning to her. Maybe she knew on some level that it was coming.
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A danger ahead sign, which she always seemed to ignore.
At that moment, she just wanted to be able to breathe properly. A simple act – something that goes unnoticed until you suddenly can’t do it.
Is this what dying feels like?
Before her mobile had cut the radio off mid-song, ringing over the speakers in her car, she had been sitting at the side of the road. Parked up, the engine idling as she gripped the steering wheel; the sun disappearing behind grey clouds, as if it was playing its own part in her drama.
She had been thinking about fire. That was the reason she’d pulled over. When the smell of smoke and ash assailed her. A flash of light, red and orange, then black. Then, in seconds, she was gasping for air. It was as if someone had their hands around her throat, a weight on her chest. Her stomach churned, a thousand butterflies taking flight inside her. Cars passed by in a blur, a couple of people walked on the pavement beside her, as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe in and out. In and out. Calm. She was safe, nothing could harm her. Not now.
Not now.
You’re okay. Nothing is wrong.
The soothing tone of her inner voice helped a little, but it could barely be heard over the roar of so many other thoughts running through her head.
It was getting worse. These moments were becoming frequent; the bouts of terror and of not being able to breathe threatening to become the norm. The night before, she had stared at the glow from her mobile phone screen, lying in bed unable to sleep. Scrolling through a list of counselling services in the local area.
As if she needed it.
She didn’t, she’d decided. No one ever did, she’d thought, lying to herself. It was all a con, a ruse, a way of extracting cash from your wallet. Money for old rope. The idea that any of it would make the slightest bit of difference to her life was beyond any logic she could recognise.
Yet, she was beginning to think it was the only way. The only thing that could help at that moment. Telling a stranger your deepest and darkest feelings. Bringing out forgotten and suppressed memories.