by Neil White
As they got to the top, they both leaned over, sucking in the night air. Joe went to his knees, feeling sick with effort, stars dancing in front of his eyes. When he looked up again, all ahead was complete darkness and silence. It was colder, the wind cutting through his suit. The long grasses swished and swayed in the moonlight, and with no trees to stop the wind it seemed to gather speed, Joe’s hair sticking up, his ears aching from the chill. Mary shivered beside him. All there was for miles was rolling moorland, lost to the night, and blind crevices where the peat had resettled, opening up the grass like scars. He looked around. The lights from Manchester were visible now in the distance, a vast orange and yellow glow like a different country, bright and brash and noisy. The other way was just blackness.
‘We can’t find him up here,’ Mary said, out of breath.
‘We’ve no choice but to try,’ Joe said, and set off at a brisk walk, wary of a fall if he ran, not wanting to risk a long cold wait with a twisted ankle as Declan Farrell disappeared into the darkness.
It was hard going. The darkness was complete, so that it was hard to see what was ahead. Joe was listening out. If Declan was hiding and ready to burst out, Joe wouldn’t see him until it was too late. He was ready for the quick rumble of feet, tensed and alert. All he could hear was the thump and squeak of his shoes on the damp grass and the sharp draws of his breaths. His legs brushed against clumps of heather, snagging sometimes, all the time concealing hiding places.
There was another noise.
It was the sound of someone running, but not Declan Farrell. It was manic somehow, desperate, coming in bursts. Then Hunter’s voice echoed across from somewhere on the other side of the moorland.
‘Farrell, where are you?’ His voice was plea more than threat, breathless, panicking.
Joe tried to work out the direction, the voice drifting across in the wind. Then he saw him. A small figure, just a black outline, moving slowly and turning, shouting again. The torch flickered, as if the batteries were about to give out.
‘Let’s go to him,’ Joe said, and moved more slowly, almost creeping, so that his footfall became softer, feeling their way, always listening out for the sound of Alice or the sudden rush of Declan Farrell.
There was movement to his left, away from Hunter. Joe looked. Something dark moving quickly, framed against the glow coming from the city in the distance.
Declan Farrell.
‘He’s there,’ Joe said. Mary gasped. Joe started to run, his feet fast thumps, trying to cover the ground, not knowing what was in front of him, no longer thinking of the danger of falling.
A shout from behind. Mary had stumbled and she cried out in shock as she went down.
The figure ahead stopped and looked Joe’s way.
‘Declan Farrell! It’s me, Joe Parker.’ He took deep breaths. ‘You run if you want, I won’t go after you. Just tell me where Alice is.’
His words echoed until the night fell still again. Everyone was quiet, not moving, until Hunter shouted in frustration and started to run again.
Farrell turned to go the other way, away from both of them.
Joe ran again.
Farrell seemed to be heading back the way he had come, towards the edge, as if he didn’t trust himself to go into the darkness. He was trying to find some way down, so he could somehow get away on a clear path.
As Joe got closer, Farrell stopped. He was thirty yards away and his whole body was framed against the stars in the distance, in silhouette against the beam from Sam’s police car. The edges of the rocks that hung over the slope down were jagged and black.
Joe slowed down, sucking in air. ‘What’s going on, Declan?’ he said cautiously. ‘Or is it Tyrone?’
Mary appeared behind him, her hand on his arm, gripping tightly. ‘You betrayed me!’
Joe put his arm across her. ‘I just want to know where Alice is,’ he said.
Declan stepped back. The edge was closer. Just a few feet. He looked back quickly. ‘You’re so gracious, Joe Parker. That’s how you see yourself, is it, some kind of hero?’
‘I don’t care about you,’ Joe said, stepping forward slowly. ‘I don’t mind if you get away. I just want Alice.’
‘Maybe I prefer the suffering.’
Joe tried to stay calm. ‘The police are down there,’ he said. ‘You can take your chances with them, but they’ll lock you up for ever. Just tell me about Alice and I’ll step aside, let you run past.’
Joe edged closer and Declan backed away.
Joe looked quickly along the edge. It was a slow curve marked out by large rocks that shone back the silver of the moonlight. He was coming in at Declan’s right. Then he saw the flickering beam of Hunter’s torch. It was on Declan’s left, getting closer.
‘Don’t come any nearer,’ Declan said.
‘Just tell me where she is.’
Declan stepped backwards slowly. Joe moved forward, his arms out, trying to calm him down. If he went over the edge, they might never find her.
Below, Sam was shouting Alice’s name, but nothing came back in response.
Mary stepped in front of Joe. ‘You lied to me,’ she said to Declan.
‘I lied to a lot of people,’ Declan said, and moved back further. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. Everything behind him looked a long way down.
He backed onto the stones overlooking the drop and said, ‘You all get away or else I go over, and then you’ll never know.’
‘Why?’ Joe said. ‘You won’t get away if you do that.’
‘What, you think I’m getting away at the moment?’ And he laughed, shrill and loud. ‘You’ll let me walk past you all and slip away in the night?’ He shook his head. ‘This is the end, I know that.’
‘So just make it easier for yourself.’
‘No, you mean make it easier for you.’
Declan was on a rocky outcrop, his feet just a metre from the edge. There was no way forward except towards Joe and Mary.
Then there was a noise behind them. Joe looked round. It was Hunter. He was bent over, his hands on his knees, drawing in deep lungfuls of breath.
He straightened and glared at Declan.
‘Farrell, you bastard.’
Sam turned around quickly, scanning the hills around, but once he was away from the headlight beam, all he could see was darkness.
‘Where is she?’ he said desperately.
Gina was alongside him. ‘Try the cottage,’ she said. ‘It’s up that way. Follow the stream.’
‘No, Joe said she was with Farrell. He heard her scream.’ He stared up at the dark outlines of the hills and shouted, ‘Alice!’ He waited. Nothing came back.
‘We need that helicopter here,’ Gina said. ‘It might pick up her body heat if she’s out there somewhere.’
Sam tried not to think of her alone up there, frightened and cold.
Gina ran to the wall in front of the police car. ‘What about down here?’
Sam joined her and looked over. Pools of water, bordered by concrete, like a series of small overflows. ‘Not in the water, please.’
He scoured the surface for the trails of hair or some sign that she was there. Nothing. He ran along, trying to see into every dark corner, but it was pointless. He turned away and went as if to run towards the hills, but after a few steps away from the beam of the headlights the night enveloped him.
‘Alice!’
Still nothing.
‘Sam, look.’
It was Gina. Sam rushed back towards her, hoping she had found Alice, but instead she was pointing upwards. There was someone high up on the rocky outcrops, almost on the edge.
‘DCI Hunter?’ Declan said. ‘Were you hoping it would be just me and you?’
‘You bastard,’ was all Hunter could muster.
Declan gestured towards him and then shouted to Mary, ‘He’s told you all about Aidan, hasn’t he? That he guessed a while ago that your boy was innocent but lied to protect himself?’
‘Yes, I k
now now,’ she said, her voice low and angry.
‘And I’m the only bad guy?’ Declan said, in a mocking tone. ‘I didn’t put Aidan in prison. That was all Hunter’s doing. He’s got a problem now though. If he keeps me alive and I get arrested, I’m going to talk. I’ll even get in the witness box, to make sure that he goes down for what he was going to do to me. What the hell have I got to lose?’ He laughed again. ‘But if I die? All those documents I’ve stored online get sent out and you’re finished. So which is best, Hunter?’
‘Or you give Alice up and I step aside,’ Joe said. ‘Ignore Hunter. You’ll get past him, I’m sure, and Mary will let you go. There’ll be other ways to prove it against Hunter. So you get Hunter and we get Alice. That’s the trade.’
‘No way!’ Hunter spat. ‘He’s not leaving. No more deaths. He’ll carry on and this time it will be blood on your hands, Parker.’
‘Ignore him,’ Joe said quietly, moving forward slowly, focused only on Declan Farrell. ‘Send the documents anyway. You win both ways. You get Hunter and Alice comes home.’
Declan looked skywards and started to laugh again, wiping tears from his eyes.
‘What’s so funny?’ Joe said.
When Declan looked back down, he said, ‘There are no documents. No legacy account. Do you think I’m stupid? Computers leave traces, tiny tracks that can be pieced together to make the story whole again, the trail from start to finish. Warrants can be obtained. No, it was just to keep him and Weaver out of my hair, and guess what, it worked.’ His voice became angrier, more contemptuous. ‘They were so scared; it was like having police protection. Me, was I scared?’ He shook his head. ‘No, of course not. I had it all under control. I had Hunter and Weaver under my control. They could have stopped me at any point, but they didn’t.’
Joe got closer so that Declan was just a lunge away. The view behind him was the landscape a long way below. The sheen of the water, the orange spread of Manchester in the distance but none of the city noise made it that far up. There was just the cruel whistle of the breeze mixing with the fast beat of his heart. Mary was quiet. Hunter was pacing behind him, audible from the thumps on the grass.
‘Why do you think I left her there, sliced up where David Jex was buried?’ Declan continued. ‘He wasn’t meant to be found. It was a warning to Hunter, that’s all, a message that I could reveal everything. Carl changed things, so Hunter had to protect me. He could control the scene, divert attention, but good old Sam couldn’t stop himself. Supercop. So he suffers.’
‘Is that why you’ve gone for Alice?’ Joe said, trying to control his anger. ‘Just to hurt Sam?’
‘Not the only reason,’ he said. ‘Because if they catch me, I’ll tell them who told me where Sam lived.’
‘Shut up!’ Hunter shouted.
Joe looked round quickly, incredulous.
‘That’s right,’ Declan said. ‘Good old DCI Hunter gave me what I needed. My parting bit of hurt for him too. To make him the most reviled man in the Force.’
Joe took deep breaths to control himself. He had to keep his focus. ‘All right, I get it, Hunter’s the bad man,’ he said quietly. ‘But I don’t care about him, or about you. I just care about Alice.’
‘So there was never anything?’ Hunter said, stepping closer, his voice was low and mean. ‘No legacy site, no confessions to be sent out if you were arrested.’
Declan laughed. ‘No. Not ever.’
‘So I could have killed you and there would have been no loss.’
‘Except to Aidan,’ Mary snapped.
‘Fuck Aidan,’ Hunter said, starting to pace again. ‘Collateral damage.’
Mary ran at Hunter, who tried to hold her off, her long dark hair thrashing as she rained punches on him.
‘Stupid bitch!’ Hunter seethed, and pushed her away. She stumbled to the grass. As she went to scramble up, there was the glint of metal turning in the air. A knife landed on the grass near her. Declan had thrown it. The blade was long and jagged, a fisherman’s knife.
Mary stopped, gulping down air.
Declan pointed towards the knife. ‘Go ahead, Mary, take it. Kill him. See how it feels. They’ll say it just runs in the family.’
‘Mary, stay where you are,’ Joe barked.
Hunter turned towards Joe but looked past him, at Declan.
‘No!’ Joe said. ‘We need Alice.’
Declan laughed behind him, loud and mocking.
Joe whirled around. ‘Declan, concentrate on me, not Hunter,’ he said. ‘Just give up Alice.’
Declan’s laugh faded as he glanced over Joe’s shoulder, just a momentary distraction, broken only by the sound of fast movement. Hunter screamed as he ran forward onto the rocky outcrop.
Declan stalled, unsure for a moment. Hunter flashed past Joe, moving quickly, lashing out with his fists. Declan moved his arm to defend himself and then grunted as he was punched on the chin. Hunter kept on, his arms going around Declan’s midriff, his shoes slipping on the stone but still moving forward. A gasp of exertion and Declan was leaning backwards, towards the edge and the long drop to the rocks below.
Mary screamed. Joe shouted, ‘No!’
Declan tried to push at Hunter’s shoulders but Hunter’s momentum was forward, going too fast to stop.
Declan twisted his body, striking out, punching Hunter in the head. Hunter’s grip slackened and Declan gave one final twist and slipped out of his grip. Hunter’s momentum carried on, taking him forward, over the edge.
Hunter seemed suspended for a second, his heels still in contact with the rock, shouting with rage, arms wheeling. Then he was falling.
Joe gasped as Hunter screamed all the way down. There was the sodden thud of his body hitting the ground, before silence.
Declan tried to scramble away from the edge, but his shoes were wet and slippery on the rock, no grip in the leather soles.
Joe ran forward to grab him. He shouted, ‘No!’ but he didn’t get there in time. Declan slipped, his ribs banging on the edge of the rock, a grunt of pain, and then he disappeared from view. There was no scream, no hard landing.
Joe threw himself to the floor and crawled to peer over the edge. Caught in the headlight beam, Hunter’s body was splayed and broken. There was a shout, and the sound of someone panting. He looked down and Declan was hanging, a hundred-foot drop below him, his legs swinging, his hands clasped onto a sharp edge on the rock. He was whimpering with fear.
Joe reached down and grabbed the shoulder of his jacket. He shouted to Mary, ‘Help me pull him up!’
Mary was paralysed for a second, and then she rushed forward, looking over the edge. Declan was gasping, struggling to hold on.
‘Where is she?’ Mary shouted at him. ‘Where’s Alice?’
Declan snarled and grabbed Joe’s arm. He yanked Joe towards him, his upper body going over the edge.
Joe tried to pull himself backwards but Declan was determined, dragging him towards the edge.
Mary grabbed Joe round the waist. She tried to wrestle him back, grimacing with effort, but then she remembered the knife Declan had thrown.
She scrambled back for it, and when she had it in her hand, she lunged forward, sinking the blade into Declan’s arm.
He screamed loudly, letting go of Joe, who crawled backwards quickly, breathing hard.
Declan was hanging by one hand, his legs swaying wildly, his injured arm hanging uselessly, blood dripping down. He glanced downwards and swallowed. He looked back to Mary and said, ‘Pull me up, please,’ desperate, pleading.
Mary stood and stared down at him. She gripped the knife in her hand, her lips set tightly in fury.
Joe reached out. ‘No, Mary, don’t.’
Declan looked up again, desperation in his eyes. The tension in his fingers was visible, clasped around the sharp edge on the rock, taking his weight, his right arm useless. ‘Please,’ he said.
Mary stared and didn’t move.
His fingers started to slip, his mouth opening int
o a scream. Mary shook her head. She wasn’t going to help him.
His fingers slid slowly over the sharp edge. He tried to strike out at the rock with his feet as if he could somehow support himself that way, but it was useless.
Declan screamed as he fell, his body launched into the glare of the headlight beam from below, his limbs splayed. The scream was short-lived, as breath was punched out of his body, his back catching a rock, broken over it.
