The Bone Keeper

by Luca Veste

  She didn’t realise she was talking out loud until a hand gripped her shoulder.

  ‘Come on, Louise,’ Shipley’s voice said from above her. His hand was a steadying force, but held her by the shoulder with care, ‘Let’s get out of here.’

  She forced open her eyes, blinking into the overhead light, allowing herself to be led away. She ignored the looks of the few detectives scattered around other parts of the room, just following Shipley’s lead.

  Mentally admonishing herself for allowing this to happen.

  Twenty-Seven

  Shipley brought her up to speed as he drove her home, now seemingly ignoring the state she’d been in when he’d arrived back at the office. Louise was more with it, back in the real world, rather than the one which seemed to exist only in fire.

  She felt like a cliché. A fictional detective coming apart at the seams. One that could never exist in reality, yet everything about her situation felt all too real. The fact that she had found herself in over her head, suddenly desperate to be anywhere else, on any other case. Anything different, anything that didn’t make her feel this way. She was collapsing under the expectation, its weight becoming too much to bear.

  Shipley had led her out of the office, talking for their colleagues’ benefit, trying to save face, she’d assumed.

  ‘These long shifts,’ he’d said loudly as he grabbed her by the arm. ‘They’ll be the death of you.’

  Louise hadn’t thought anyone paying any sort of mind to them would have bought it, but none of the others appeared to care what the new pair were doing.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Shipley had said after he got her through the doors, where she’d rested against the wall. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

  She heard herself again, uttering lies; they sounded even worse now the car, in a colder light. ‘Must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me. Let me go to the bathroom a sec.’

  Louise had guessed by the look he’d given her that he hadn’t bought the lie. He didn’t question her any more though, instead leaving her to it so she could dive into the bathroom. Collapsing at the sink area, propping herself up on the palms of her hands against the cold surface.

  She hadn’t looked up. Looked at herself in the mirror. Instead, she’d turned on the taps and splashed her face a few times. Removed a paper towel from the dispenser and wiped the water away.

  Then she had gone back to her desk, mumbling to Shipley about going through the CC TV images a few more times, while secretly in fact reading as much as she could take in and process, from the folders about each victim they had discovered so far. A way of distracting herself from the feeling growing inside her.

  The feeling that she shouldn’t be anywhere near this case. She knew that without Shipley, she wouldn’t even be there now. She would have walked away.

  She couldn’t leave his side.

  That had been a couple of hours ago. Now, driving home, they were alone again.

  Louise had accepted the offer of a lift without thinking. Not considering that it would mean twenty minutes in an enclosed environment alone with him. She cursed herself for leaving her own car at home that morning, and vowed not to make that mistake again. No matter how much another side of her wanted to be in that car, alone with Shipley. She had to forget that part of her existed. That there was something between them, something unspoken and raw.

  It had been there for a long time.

  She remembered when she had first met Shipley. The way he acted around her, as if she was something exotic. A young detective constable, fresh out of uniform and wanting a different life. He had recognised that, treating her a little differently to the way he treated others.

  Louise had hated it. She’d wanted to be like everyone else. She’d wanted to be normal. Still did.

  Now, he was talking about what he had learned in the hours he had been away from her side. The way Major Crimes worked, the people involved, how he had been accepted straight away. There was something endearing about the way he talked. The excitement exuding from him.

  Also, worrying.

  ‘So, they have loads more resources than we do,’ Shipley continued, as he navigated the streets of the city. The traffic was lighter than it would have been a few hours previous, but there were still a fair few headlights blaring around them. ‘They have profiles of each victim being drawn up, with an incredible amount of information. Nothing is left to chance. This is the way I’ve always wanted to work, you know. This is real detective work. Not the crap we usually have to deal with.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll be with them for the course of the investigation?’

  ‘As long as we don’t become deadwood, I think we’ll be set. Then, who knows. Maybe we’ll be able to transfer over to them. Show our worth and we could become invaluable. We just need to find out who this guy is. That’ll be the key. If we track him down and prove we can handle the big cases, they’ll have to transfer us.’

  ‘What’s your plan then?’ Louise asked, knowing Shipley would have something in mind. ‘What should we do?’

  ‘They think Rhys Durham is our best bet at the moment. Although the dates don’t really match up. Unless we’re looking at someone who was a serial killer aged fifteen.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been saying, but I suppose it’s not unheard of,’ Louise replied, staring out of the passenger-side window at the blur of buildings as they passed by. ‘He was obviously an angry young man. Druggies for parents, issues with the opposite sex and the legal age of consent.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about Jon Durham,’ Shipley said, pulling the car slowly to a stop at some traffic lights. A couple crossed in front of them, seemingly arguing as they went. Then they both began to laugh, loud enough that Louise could hear the bark of it from inside the car. ‘There’s something not right with that whole situation.’

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘Well, you saw those drawings, those messages. Then, there’s the small fact of the pictures of the woodland area where we eventually found the bodies. That can’t all be coincidence. He must have known something. I want to go through his room again, see if we can find anything else he might have noted down. Any more information we can get.’

  Silence grew between them as they rounded the final corner and entered the short street where Louise lived. Shipley pulled the car over, parking just behind her own vehicle. She didn’t get out straight away, instead turning to face him as he stared straight ahead.

  ‘Look, about what happened back at the office . . .’ Louise began, but Shipley cut her off.

  ‘It’s fine, you’re probably just a little overworked or something. It’s been a crazy couple of days for both of us. One minute we’re investigating yet another domestic incident, next we’re in the middle of a serial murder case. I’ve been feeling it as well.’

  ‘You’re hiding it better than I am,’ Louise replied, smiling at Shipley. She couldn’t hold it for long, though; it gradually fell from her face. ‘I suppose you’re right. It’s not been the easiest time. Takes some getting used to, all of this. I’m not sure we’re even ready.’

  ‘We are. I know that for certain. I was getting bored rigid of dealing with the same cranks day in day out and so were you. This is a chance for us to move on. Both of us. You’re a good detective, Louise. You deserve to be here as well.’

  She didn’t answer at first, allowing him to stare at her as she averted her eyes. They were inches from each other, but so far apart in so many other ways.

  Louise moved closer, unable to stop herself any longer. Inches became centimetres, as he blurred in front of her.

  He moved closer to her.

  Louise felt his lips on hers, parting, and the softness of his mouth. His stubble scratched against her face as a slow kiss became something more. Hungrier. His hands were on her body, the flatness of his palms sliding around her shoulders and down her back. She caught her breath as he paused and held her.

  She wanted him. The norma
lity of the situation, rather than the irrationality of the past few days.

  She wanted to feel normal.

  His mouth found hers again, his hands moving lower down her back as she turned closer to him in her seat. She moved her hand to his face, then through his hair.

  ‘No, not now,’ Louise said, pulling away from Shipley. ‘We can’t do this.’

  Shipley slumped back, nodding slightly to himself. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’

  Louise smiled. ‘Don’t be.’

  ‘Want me to pick you up tomorrow?’

  Louise left the question hanging, trying to formulate the answer that worked best. She didn’t want him to, preferring the silence of her lonely commutes. Yet, there was also a part of her that didn’t want him to leave at all. That wanted to take him out of the car, lead him to her house, open the door and go inside. Leave reality behind for a few hours of peace.

  ‘No, it’s my turn,’ she said eventually, turning towards him, unclasping her hands, which had been lying in her lap. ‘I’m picking you up this time. Only fair.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue with that,’ Shipley replied with a laugh. It was a soft sound, not harsh and unyielding like the one he used around the other detectives. ‘Spent a fortune in petrol coming back and forth here. Not that I mind, of course.’

  ‘Usual time.’

  There was a moment when Louise thought he was going to lean further forward, but he didn’t move. Simply stared at her for a few more seconds, before she grasped the door handle and let herself out.

  She didn’t look back as she walked towards her door, hearing the car start up again and pull away. She pulled her keys out and let herself in, pulling the door closed behind her and dropping her bag in the hallway. She waited a few more seconds, then grabbed her car keys and phone, letting herself back out of the house.

  Caroline was lying in the same position as when they’d last left her, propped up in the hospital bed, as if she’d been expecting Louise to arrive.

  Maybe she had.

  ‘Thought I’d drop in after this afternoon,’ Louise said, pulling up a chair close to the bed. ‘Didn’t want you lying here alone all night again.’

  ‘Something tells me you didn’t exactly have much else to do anyway,’ Caroline replied, the corners of her mouth turning up, but not smiling fully. ‘It’s fine. I’m not exactly tripping over visitors here.’

  ‘Why is that?’ Louise said, wanting to know the truth, even if she was sure she wouldn’t actually get it. ‘Why are you choosing to be here alone?’

  ‘I told you, I’m not that close to anyone really. Not enough to have them see me like this.’

  ‘I’m sure they’ll understand. They’ll be worried about you.’

  ‘If they see me in this state, that’s all they’ll ever see me as. A victim. I couldn’t deal with that. I won’t be looked at that way.’

  ‘And your family?’

  Caroline thought for a second, then shook her head. ‘I can’t deal with them right now. They’ll only find some way to make it all my fault.’

  ‘You shouldn’t take them for granted, you know,’ Louise said, leaning on the bed with one hand. ‘Some day, they might not be there for you to ignore at all. Then, you’ll know loneliness.’

  ‘Are you speaking from experience?’

  Louise sat for a while in silence, thinking about how best to respond. ‘You don’t want to be alone, Caroline. No one should have to go through that.’

  ‘Sometimes, it feels like I have to do this alone. That I’m paying for mistakes I’ve made, or something. Karma, you know? All my screw-ups coming home to roost. And if I can just get through this, I’ll make up for them.’

  Louise nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. ‘I have these panic attacks, whenever I think about the past. It’s like my body is trying to make me forget. I . . . I had one earlier. In work.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Louise said quickly, holding her hands up. ‘There’s plenty of normal people working on this case. I’m just a small cog now in a massive machine. It doesn’t matter if I lose my mind completely. There’ll be twenty detectives who’ll have already solved it all by then.’

  ‘What happened?’ Caroline said, ignoring Louise’s attempts at keeping the mood light.

  She didn’t have to explain the question more – Louise knew what she’d meant. ‘I don’t know really. There was a fire, at a crime scene we found. It seems to be a trigger for something, but I don’t know what.’

  ‘Suppressed memory,’ Caroline said, the words coming out quietly.

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘I have a feeling I’ve been doing the same thing,’ Caroline replied, fiddling with the blanket over her lap. ‘Maybe they’re a good thing.’

  ‘I sometimes think my mind is trying to get me to remember something I really shouldn’t.’

  ‘Something bad. From your past I mean.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Louise replied, shifting in her chair. ‘But I know enough to know it was bad, but I was okay. There was an accident.’

  ‘What happened?’ Caroline asked her again.

  ‘My family. They’re all gone. I was the only one who survived, but I don’t remember most of it. Bits and pieces beforehand, but then it’s like one day I was thirteen years old and I remember everything from then on. I had to move in with my grandparents. You don’t want to be a teenager and living with a couple in their seventies, I can tell you that for nothing.’

  ‘Your parents?’

  ‘Dead,’ Louise said and hoped that was as much as she would have to. ‘All gone. Aunts and uncles, never met them, even if they’re still around. I think my mum had a sister, but I never met her. Dad was an only child. His parents were dead before I was old enough to know anything about them. So, that left my mum’s parents, and they tried hard, but they didn’t last much longer after I’d moved out. They were old and I think raising a teenager sucked the rest of the life out of them.’

  ‘I could tell you a similar story,’ Caroline replied, smoothing down her blanket.

  Louise knew she wouldn’t, though. Something was keeping her from saying more, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

  ‘I joined the police pretty much as soon as I was able to,’ Louise said, when the silence between them continued and became uncomfortable. ‘I needed to do something, you know? Give something back or whatever.’

  ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

  ‘We will find whoever did this to you,’ Louise said, leaning back in her chair. ‘We’re close.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be going through this alone. Give your mum a call. I’m sure she’s worried about you.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  Louise sat there until Caroline’s eyes began to droop, tiredness finally catching up with her, then left the room. It was after midnight and this side of the building had quietened; the corridors she walked through empty, as the wards settled down and allowed patients their fitful sleep. She imagined it would be just as crazy as it always was in A&E.

  She stepped into the lift, resting her head against the cool metal side, straightening up as it came to a stop. Walked through an empty reception area and welcomed the almost icy blast of air that greeted her as she left the building. She stood for a few seconds, pulling her jacket closer around herself, watching someone light a cigarette. She wished she smoked. Something to take the edge off.

  ‘Smile, love. It might never happen.’

  Louise turned quickly. A scruffy-looking lad was leaning against the wall and smoking. He smiled at her, revealing a broken tooth at the front.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I’m just being friendly.’

  ‘Yeah, well, don’t.’ Louise replied, pulling her jacket closer and taking a step towards the car park.

  ‘Stuck-up bitch.’

  Louise stopped, her back s
till to the lad. She looked up and around, spotting the CC TV camera above the entrance. She stepped to the side until she felt certain she was out of its eye line. Then she stopped so he didn’t see her close her eyes and begin to count.

  She heard the sound of him moving along the wall towards her. ‘Trying to be nice and that’s the thanks you get.’

  She reached three in her count, before she turned around and walked back towards him. She opened her mouth to speak, but her heart was racing now. The feeling in her stomach rising, the tremble in her hands, as if they were itching to be used.

  Louise stopped a foot or so away from him. The stupid grin on his face seemed to be getting wider. She closed her mouth, looked away to his right and waited for his head to turn to follow her gaze.

  Then, she raised her forearm and smashed it into the side of his head.

  Twenty-Eight

  They watched the news in silence, hearing the words but not really taking them in. Too busy looking at their phones to pay attention.

  ‘It’s trending on Twitter,’ Karen said, making Tim shake his head at the ridiculousness of it all. ‘Right there, see?’

  Tim glanced up at the phone in Karen’s hand, which she was shaking about in front of his face. ‘It doesn’t mean they’re taking it seriously.’

  ‘I’m telling you, there was always something about that story.’

  ‘You think he’s real?’

  ‘I think you should listen to other people’s opinions for once,’ Karen replied, slumping back onto her side of the sofa. ‘Keep an open mind.’

  Tim scoffed at her, but closed the BBC Sport app he had been reading and opened Twitter. She was right. It was trending. Like that meant anything, but it still meant there were enough people out there talking about to make a dint in the usual rubbish talked about on social media.

  He scrolled down some of the posts, reading stupid people’s stories about the legend they had grown up with. A brainless story from their childhood that people were trying to make into something. Various pictures of devil masks, attempts to scare others.