The Bone Keeper

by Luca Veste

  Louise didn’t hesitate, taking the radio out of her pocket and making the call for the fire service. She looked back up to see Shipley trying to get closer to the hut. ‘Don’t, it’s no use,’ she said, her words coming out high-pitched and desperate. ‘Stop, it’s too late.’

  ‘We can’t just watch them burn,’ Shipley said, then stopped talking as he looked over Louise’s shoulder. She spun around as the world shifted and turned dark.

  She needed to get out of there. Away. Away from the fire.

  She couldn’t do this.

  Her breaths were coming in slow pants, as the weight on her chest tightened. Louise staggered up the hill, moving through the broken branches and allowing the trees to swallow her from view. She continued moving forward, even as she felt the air leave her body, breaking down the bracken in her way. She didn’t stop to think about what direction she was going, concentrating on moving her legs in time.

  One, two . . .

  Louise felt as if she could hear the sound of branches snapping, leaves being disturbed, rushing into her ears and making her stumble. Off-balance, as the world spun around her. Blurred and misshapen. She caught her breath, panting hard, bent over at the waist. The sounds were still there, as though there was something else in the thick of the woods with her.

  She moved onward, stepping over a fallen log, not breaking stride, the only other sound that of her heavy breaths.

  ‘Stop.’

  Her shout echoed back, breathless and laboured. She stopped for a second, coming to a halt in a break in the trees. Tilted her head, to hear any sound.

  There was silence.

  She continued to move forwards, faster now, as she tried to cover the ground quicker. She imagined it was only a few feet away, just hidden by the thickness of the woodland around her. Adrenaline took over as thoughts flashed through her head, of getting her hands on whoever was in these woods with her.

  She burst through tightly packed thin branches and found herself near the field they had crossed when they had arrived.

  Louise spun around, looking for something that would prove she’d heard something human in the woods. A blurred figure. A man dressed in black running away. A shout or cry of escape.

  There was only still, unbroken air around her.

  Louise was standing on the edge of the field, her breath just about returned to normal, looking towards the woods again. They looked less impressive from this angle – as if they only went back a few acres, rather than the large expanse she knew they covered, stretching out of sight.

  She considered her story. What she would tell Shipley and the others, when they began asking questions. Why she’d left him there.

  It had been so long since she’d been into those woods, yet she could have still been exactly the same person. The familiar feelings of fear and anger were there. The fight or flight response coursed through her, just as it had all those years ago. She remembered the place being more impressive in the darkness – full of nooks and hiding places. She imagined what it would be like spending hours within the bracken, worried about being lost forever in the confines of the trees and bushes. Or purposefully trapped, with no chance of being free.

  A field on one side of a road, lined with trees at the end of a small grassland, within which lay a hundred or so acres of woodland, then fields beyond. There was more traffic noise than she remembered, but she knew that disappeared when you made your way through the treeline. They had moved too quickly for her to stand and appreciate what was there. What she could feel. The darkness that was only a few steps away.

  ‘What did you say this was called?’ DC Cavanagh said, the passenger-side door closing behind him as he made his way around the car towards where Louise was standing. He looked out of his depth – more so now than before. A small, stockily built man, who she couldn’t be more than a year or three older than, but looked much younger.

  ‘DS Shipley called it the Big Mummy,’ Louise replied, smiling for a split second at the term before remembering why they were there. ‘Big Daddy was the other end of Speke, nearer the airport. It’s only used by dog-walkers now, he says. The scrambler kids keep to the fields, pretty much.’

  Another car came to a stop on the other side of the road, another detective out of the vehicle almost before it was parked. Shipley joined them, pocketing his phone, not saying who he had been calling.

  ‘What is this place then?’ DC Cavanagh said in Shipley’s direction. ‘Louise reckons you know all about it.’

  ‘Grew up round here, didn’t I,’ Shipley replied, firing a smirk in DC Cavanagh’s direction. ‘Proper Scouser, me. Unlike you.’

  ‘Whatever, I’m happy being from Cheshire. Less chance of my car being nicked.’

  Shipley seemed to ignore the comment, as Louise watched the two men speak between themselves. ‘There’s a few places growing up in Speke that everyone knew about,’ he said. ‘Well, the kids, mainly – they were the ones who used them most. This is one of them. This is Big Mummy. Big Daddy is at the other end of town. Separated by the length of the two main roads that run through here.’

  ‘Which roads?’

  ‘Damwood Road and Hale Road. Big Daddy is closer to the airport. Silly names I guess. Childish. Which is how they got the names, I suppose.’

  ‘Big Mummy. Doesn’t look all that big.’

  ‘Looks can be deceiving,’ Shipley replied, a cloud crossing over his expression. ‘I suppose they’re not as big as the ones further north of the city. Formby and that. Or out towards Skem – that’s Skelmersdale to you, Cheshire lad.’

  ‘Oh, don’t start calling me Cheshire—’

  Shipley ignored the plea and continued. ‘There were other places we spent more time at. The Venny for one. That was an adventure playground – well, it was really just a collection of climbing equipment. Would never pass a health and safety check these days. All of them were painted in bright colours, just to further the illusion. The parade and the market as well. Or just on the roads, playing footy on whatever scrap of grass we could find. Playing kerby in the side roads. Made-up games, all of that. Probably the same as anyone else, whether or not they lived on one of the most deprived council estates in the country.’

  To Louise, it sounded like something she had never really had. A community. A group of languishing council estate kids, looking for something to do when there were only four channels on the television and kids’ programmes lasted for a couple of hours after school.

  ‘I’m guessing we’re going towards the smoke?’

  Louise looked past DC Cavanagh to the smoke rising through the trees. They had been too late to stop the hut from burning to the ground. She wondered why the sight of it burned and broken didn’t have the same effect on her as the fire itself had.

  ‘We couldn’t do much with the tiny fire extinguisher in the car. All we could do was call for backup and watch. Louise almost caught the bugger, but he was long gone by the time we got out of the woods.’

  ‘He could still be in there,’ DC Cavanagh said quietly, standing up straighter as he realised what Shipley was suggesting. ‘Although I’m sure you knew that.’

  ‘Uniforms are combing the woodland now,’ Louise replied, saving Shipley the bother of coming up with a cutting reply. ‘I heard something and didn’t think twice. Just bolted after it. Didn’t take long to break out onto the field. I’d have seen him if he was still there.’

  She would have, she thought. There was no doubt about that. She had spent another half an hour walking back through the woods, listening to every sound she could hear.

  There wasn’t anything in those woods now.

  There was something in there though. And you were too busy trying to breathe properly to find it.

  ‘Here comes the air support,’ Shipley said, shielding his face as he looked skywards. The helicopter appeared above, the distant sound of dogs barking instantly being quietened.

  When Louise had finally got back to the hut, it was almost completely destroyed. S
hipley had been standing a few feet away, pain etched across his face. His hands were black, his breath coming in short, sharp pants.

  He was alone.

  They had made their way out of the woods within minutes, worried about compromising what could be a crime scene.

  The fire crew would do enough of that for them.

  Louise hadn’t pointed out the markings on the trees to Shipley before leaving. She would leave that for him to discover.

  Off to her left, a fire engine lay idling, waiting as backup. Across the field were tyre marks. Another truck lay in the distance. ‘We’ll let them finish first. They’ll tell us if there was someone in there.’

  Once the fire had been extinguished, she knew pretty quickly that something had been discovered. A couple of uniformed coppers, sent ahead to assist on what they had probably assumed was an easy job, broke through the treeline and were making their way over to where she was standing. Shipley appeared, giving her the nod to follow him as he crossed the field towards them.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Shipley said, his voice carrying over the hundred yards between them. He closed the distance quicker than Louise, but she was walking as quickly as she could. Determined not to miss anything. ‘What have they found?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know,’ the cop on the right said, shaking his head. Louise couldn’t be sure he wasn’t always this pale, but she began to think he probably wasn’t. Whatever they had found near the hut, she knew it wouldn’t be good. Or normal. ‘Nothing good.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think it’s best you check it out for yourself,’ the second cop said, his hands shaking as he straightened out his jacket. ‘I don’t think anything we say is going to help.’

  Louise followed Shipley, leaving the uniforms with the other DCs making their way closer to the entrance to the woods. As they reached it, three firemen emerged, expressions giving away nothing.

  ‘What’s going on in there?’ Louise said, her heart beating against her chest again now. She could feel her breathing becoming more laboured by the second, blinking away spots in her vision.

  Not now. Not now. She turned away slightly, concentrating on her breathing. Shipley’s words drifted her way, but she focused on getting through the next ten seconds.

  ‘What was it?’

  ‘We’ve done our job, now it’s your turn,’ one of them said, stopping to speak to Shipley as the others carried on past them. Louise swallowed a few times, feeling a little better each time. She turned back towards the men, taking in the fireman who had remained. His uniform looked like it was straining against the body within in it; lines creased his skin. The guy looked as if he could grout his own face and not have any left to finish doing the bathroom tiles. ‘Looks like a body inside to me, but I’m only guessing. Fire had spread a little, but we got it out. Who’s in charge?’

  ‘Detective Sergeant Shipley, at your service.’

  Louise allowed Shipley to have his moment. It wouldn’t be him in charge from here on out. She knew that for sure. Not when another body was on the horizon. It would be too many for the top brass. Major Crimes would be taking over.

  ‘Yeah, well, it won’t be my service. This is your wheelhouse. Our sarge is through there. You need anything, I’m sure he’ll help you out.’

  They left the fire officer behind and made their way back through the trees. This time, it felt different. More people were on the scene now, giving her more of a sense of control. It was an illusion, but she held onto it tightly.

  The smell increased the further they walked, the burning and smoke filling the atmosphere. There was something else there as well. A scent she recognised well, having dealt with similar incidents in the past. Unmistakable, when she thought about it. Flesh, burned and broken. It was there, underneath the surface, but she could sense a change.

  Shipley stopped to look at some of the markings on the tree trunks. ‘These weren’t here when I was a kid,’ he said, his voice low. He almost sounded like he was admiring the scenery, rather than looking at evidence. ‘Same ones as from the other woods.’

  ‘He’s continuing the story,’ Louise replied, looking at another set of marks. An eye in a triangle, upside-down crosses, pentagrams. A mishmash of occultist and anarchist symbols, merging into one. ‘They’re probably not anything other than his way of marking his territory.’

  They continued to walk, getting closer to the hut now. Off to the side, the smoke still drifted in short trails, the hut blackened and fallen in on one side. Already, she could see that inside were charred remains she could almost identify as human.

  It could wait.

  It was the area they hadn’t reached yet that seemed to be the real hive of activity. A uniform spotted them and beckoned them over. Shipley broke into a jog, then remembered he was at a crime scene and slowed, allowing Louise to catch up.

  ‘What have you got?’

  ‘Shallow grave, sir,’ the uniform said, his cheeks flushed red, excitement in his voice. ‘There’s a body.’

  Louise looked past the uniform to the tree behind him. The clearing here was smaller, but it was still big enough to see what had been discovered. She turned around, looking down at the earth at her feet. The quality of it, compared to the rest of the woods. A thought came to her, suddenly, which she tried to dismiss; but it was no use. She knew she was right.

  They were standing on a graveyard.

  Nineteen

  Louise was experiencing a feeling of revulsion mixed with admiration. She had felt it before, but never in a setting such as this. Everything about what she was looking at was horrifying, but there was also a sense of wonder. The time and effort it must have taken to create something of this magnitude.

  They had to stop this. There was no doubt about that.

  ‘I count eight,’ Shipley said, barely moving from the spot he was occupying. ‘If they’re all here, they’re going to be busy down at the morgue.’

  Louise didn’t answer, still struggling to take her eyes from the vision in front of her, trying to make some sort of sense of it.

  It was only a small clearing, but she thought she remembered it. A memory dancing on the edge of her mind.

  It’s the fire. It’s playing tricks on you.

  ‘It’s just dates though,’ Louise replied, blinking her way back into the present, and considering the numbers carved into one of the trees. ‘It could mean anything.’

  ‘You said it yourself. This could be a graveyard.’

  ‘So . . . we have a serial killer?’

  Shipley didn’t answer her, instead moving around, being careful where he stepped. He’d dismissed the uniforms so they didn’t compromise the scene any further, leaving just the two of them there and the CSI techs doing the more interesting work.

  While through the trees were bigger, more open clearings, she imagined it was in these tight spaces that the kids had played. Maybe not here, so deep into the wood, but surrounded by the trees, blocking out the light just enough to make it more gloomy than it should have been. The black features of it were stark against the yellowing leaves surrounding them. Autumnal colours, clashing with the darkness of the clearing. A breeze swept through the trees, almost dying as it reached them.

  ‘More CSI are on their way,’ DC Cavanagh said from behind them, loud enough for the few techs already there to hear too. He stopped before coming into the clearing proper. ‘Everyone is, to be honest. Station will be empty I think. If this is what it looks like, well, I think that’s probably wise.’

  ‘Scene is secure?’ Shipley said, nodding to himself despite the question. He knew what was coming, Louise thought. That his moment in control was about to come to an end.

  ‘Of course,’ DC Cavanagh replied, shifting from one foot to the other. ‘Place will be crawling within a few minutes. Anything we can do before then?’

  Louise watched Shipley shake his head, look down at the ground, then stick his hands in his pockets.

  ‘We’ll let CSI do
their job, but I want a list of these dates. That’s where we start.’

  ‘Are we going to continue then?’ Louise said, tentatively hoping for a positive reply. She wanted to be involved. Had to be.

  ‘Damn right we are,’ Shipley replied, flashing that grin of his her way. ‘Until we’re informed otherwise, this is still our case. We got this far, didn’t we?’

  ‘Provided there’s actually something under here,’ Louise said, turning back to the ground beneath them. ‘Could just be an elaborate game. Takes focus off the poor guy in the hut over there, doesn’t it? Could have nothing to do with anything.’

  ‘And the body lying there?’

  Louise didn’t answer, but looked at the shallow grave a few feet away. A year maybe. Eighteen months tops. The body was beginning to waste into nothing, but she could see the mottled skin, the inhuman colour of it. Some attempt had been made to wrap her in bin bags, it seemed, but they didn’t cover her entirely.

  She couldn’t have been older than twenty or so, Louise guessed from what little of her face was on show. Her hair was dark, matted. Dried blood still clinging onto the skin in places, merging with the soil and turning black.

  ‘I think we’ve stumbled our way into something much bigger than we’d anticipated two days ago.’ Shipley paused and looked around slowly. It was as if he had heard a sound and was trying to pinpoint its location. ‘This isn’t somewhere people come very often. It’s too far in. More difficult terrain. Apart from some enterprising dogs off their leads, you could be here and never see another living soul for a long, long time.’

  ‘There’s a whole row of houses back there,’ DC Cavanagh said, pointing back to where they had entered the woods. He meant off the road, but it could have been just a few yards through the branches, rather than the hundreds it was, for all they could see of them. ‘Not sure they’ll have seen anything from all the way over there, but worth a shot. I’ll get people knocking on doors, shall I?’

  ‘Yeah, go ahead,’ Shipley replied, turning back to face the clearing as DC Cavanagh left him and Louise alone again. ‘Let’s look at this logically—’