The Goodnight Song: An absolutely heart-stopping and gripping thriller

by Nick Hollin

  ‘We need evidence,’ says Nathan. ‘We need to call in the team and see if there is a body here.’

  ‘No,’ says Sam, quickly. ‘Nobody else. I can’t have anyone else knowing about my link to Carl.’

  ‘I bet you can’t,’ says Katie. ‘That’s the sort of connection that would ruin the career it had made.’

  ‘This isn’t just about me. If it becomes public knowledge, how I gathered my intelligence, then plenty of good policemen are going down, and even more criminals are going to have their convictions quashed. Is that what you want?’

  ‘I’m not talking about public knowledge. I’m talking about our team.’

  ‘The same team who leaked Nathan’s journal?’ Sam asks.

  ‘Let’s just see what we can find,’ says Katie, turning and striding off down the hill. She’s angry, but she’s not reaching for her phone. Instead, she has her head held high, just as Nathan had on the way up, looking for signs, looking for answers.

  Twenty-One

  While Nathan remains at the top of the hill, Katie begins her search at the bottom. It’s been raining so heavily that by the time she’s back at the road they arrived on, her shoes are covered by two inches of mud, and she’s almost slipped over several times. She stands, hands on hips, surveying the area. In reality, there’s little chance of them finding a body like this. They need to call in a team, some cadaver dogs, maybe even a helicopter with a camera to reveal disturbed earth, but Sam has insisted they do it alone. Katie’s not sure she believes Sam’s story. At the very best, she doesn’t think she’s being given all of that story.

  Sam is standing somewhere between Katie and Nathan, halfway up the hill, as if she’s trying to watch them both. Her attention is not, it seems to Katie, on finding Carl Watkins, and again Katie wonders if she knows more than she’s telling, that perhaps they’re wasting their time. Katie has been outsmarted by Watkins before, and she wonders if the same thing has happened to Sam. Or perhaps Sam is hoping to distract them from the truth. But then she’d had no reason to mention Watkins’ name at all, other than to stop them thinking that the ‘C’ was for Christian.

  On the two or three occasions they had met, Carl Watkins had been a charming man. This had been in spite of the contempt and anger Katie was showing for him, glaring across the table in an interview room. He had always seemed to be in control, as if he fully anticipated that he was going to be walking out of the police station without being charged. Katie had never had a doubt in the world that Watkins was guilty, but there had never been enough evidence to charge him. Now she’s looking for evidence of his death, something she had dreamt about plenty of times. Not perhaps at her hands, but at the hands of one of his rivals. Might that be who they’re looking for here? But then what’s the connection to Mike? Mike had put a few drug dealers away over the years. Could that be motivation enough for them to take his life in such a terrible way?

  As she works through the possibilities, Katie is fully aware of her surroundings, looking for the kind of details that she would have fed to Nathan, back when his gift for vividly imagining himself committing the crimes was still intact. Part of her is pleased he can’t do it anymore. It might give him a chance to get away from the work that had obsessed both of them for almost a decade, and put his brilliant mind to another use. But there’s also part of her that can’t help but be frustrated. Nathan had helped her to solve so many crimes. She had played her own part, built her own reputation for gathering evidence, for logical deduction, but at the end of it all they were a team. Her climbing the ranks was as closely tied to Nathan as Sam’s was to Carl Watkins.

  Carl Watkins. Repeating that name in her mind, she grimaces as memories flash up of the man and of the damage he had done to so many people – people like Ben Peters. It doesn’t matter that he might have assisted Sam in bringing down a few of his rivals, Katie seems to be able to summon up only one emotion for Carl Watkins, and if he’s somewhere near here, his body rotting away, then she for one will not be shedding a tear.

  ‘I have it!’ When she hears the cry, Katie starts running, ignoring the brambles tearing at her legs and arms, and the mud, which threatens to send her crashing down with every stride. By the time she’s out of the abandoned farmhouse and staring back at the hill, she can see that Nathan and Sam are running too, and Katie realises the voice she had heard calling out was Richard’s. He’s standing about ten metres from the car, pointing down into the ditch. Katie arrives before the others, and following the old man’s shaking arm she sees what she at first mistakes for the bright white cap of an enormous mushroom. It’s only when she’s caught her breath and found her focus that she’s able to figure out what it really is. The top of a human skull.

  ‘Is it him?’ says Sam, slipping as she arrives besides them and crashing onto her knees. After she’s looked into the ditch she doesn’t get up.

  ‘How did you know?’ Sam asks Richard with an accusatory glare. ‘I’ve been here, lots of times, and I’ve never…’

  ‘Calm down,’ says Katie. ‘You can see that recent rainfall has washed away the bank. You probably wouldn’t have seen anything two days ago.’

  ‘Unless it wasn’t the rain,’ says Nathan.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ asks Sam.

  ‘The pages of the journal. The clue that brought us here. There was no need to share that, unless they wanted us to come here. And if they wanted us to come here, then they probably wanted us to find the body.’

  ‘We’re calling this in,’ says Katie, pulling out her mobile.

  ‘But we don’t know who it is,’ says Sam, panic in her eyes. ‘It might not be Carl. If he’s not dead, just in hiding, then sharing this discovery will be putting his life at even greater risk.’

  ‘Your crime,’ Katie emphasises the word, ‘can be kept secret for now. But as Nathan just pointed out, we can easily explain how we ended up here. We can say you followed Carl here one day on surveillance and later saw the markings on the tree. You’ve proved very adept so far at telling stories to cover up what you’ve been doing, so I’m sure you’ll be able to come up with something convincing.’

  ‘Crime?’ says Richard, looking down at the skull.

  ‘Not that crime,’ says Katie, before looking back at Sam. ‘At least, I don’t think so.’

  Twenty-Two

  BLOG: Seeing Red

  The anonymous, unfiltered truth about crime and the criminal justice system

  * * *

  If you’re reading this, please stop now. I can’t take it anymore. I know I’ve always talked about wanting to be involved and how cool it would be to play a part in a murder investigation, but this is different. It’s like I’m to blame in some way. I mean, I know what people will say, that all I have to do is stop posting the material, but surely that wouldn’t help, or save, anybody.

  Whoever this killer is knows who I am, or rather, knows how to reach me. Nobody is supposed to know that. I’ve worked hard for my anonymity. I don’t mind admitting I’m scared. If I’ve offended you in any way, then I’m really sorry. If I’m just a random choice, then please, I’m begging you, pick on someone else.

  Jesus, look at what you’ve got me writing. I should stop. I should also quit with the drugs. I reckon they’re making me paranoid. I’ve already got up three times to check my front door is locked. And there’s no way I’m going out anywhere tonight.

  Something new has just dropped into my inbox. It’s a video. Fuck, how do you know? How do you know to get in contact when I’m in the middle of writing something new? Are you watching me? Have I been hacked?

  No, no, no. I have to stop. I really am getting paranoid. I’m no threat to you. I have no idea who you are and I very much doubt you know who I am. All I need to do is shut up and share the video you sent me. For the rest of you out there, in case it doesn’t download, or you crash the site, which, given the phenomenal interest in this case is increasingly likely, here’s the briefest description. It shows Nathan and Katie st
anding at the bottom of a hill with the senior policewoman who was with Nathan when he was attacked at the school the other day, and the doctor, who I believe lived with them in Wales. They’re all staring down into a ditch. I don’t know where they are. But I have a horrible feeling I know what they’ve just found.

  Twenty-Three

  ‘Someone was watching us,’ says Katie, staring down at a series of footprints leading away along the side of a field to woodland in the distance. A team with dogs has already been out, but they’ve come back with nothing, the trail seeming to end just a few hundred yards away.

  ‘Do we know for sure it was the killer?’ asks Sam.

  ‘You read the blogger’s latest post,’ says Nathan. ‘Who else could have sent the video to them of us standing down there?’ He gestures down the hill, back towards the car, which has now been surrounded by several others and a couple of Forensics vehicles. ‘And would an innocent passer-by, not that this is the sort of place anyone just passes through, have bothered covering their tracks by doing this?’ He holds up an evidence bag containing the remains of a mobile phone, crushed into the tiniest pieces.

  ‘We might still be able to identify where that came from,’ says Katie.

  ‘I doubt it,’ says Sam. ‘I’d put money on it being pay as you go and print-free.’

  ‘Or maybe it’ll just have the same prints as the person who was living on Christian’s houseboat with him,’ says Katie. Nathan can see she’s staring at Sam. ‘Someone who knows they’re not on our systems.’

  ‘You think Christian wasn’t living alone?’ says Sam. ‘Why haven’t you told me this before?’

  Katie glances back at the place where they’d found the body. ‘We’re not really the ones who’ve been holding back until now, are we?’

  ‘You think it was a woman?’ asks Sam.

  ‘We had wondered if it was you,’ says Nathan, ‘what with all the calls to “C” on your phone.’

  ‘I worked with Carl Watkins to further my career. How on earth could being with Christian have achieved the same outcome?’

  ‘I believe that, in addition to breaking a few drugs rings, you were also involved in the solving of at least two murder cases,’ says Katie. ‘Perhaps Christian was able to help you in the way that Nathan has helped me.’

  Sam scoffs. ‘And you think I just overlooked the murders Christian had committed?’

  ‘You did for Carl,’ says Katie.

  ‘That’s not the same,’ Sam protests. ‘They weren’t to fulfil some sick urge, they were business. I had to let his crimes go to keep him onside.’

  ‘And that makes it acceptable?’ asks Nathan.

  ‘He didn’t commit them himself.’

  ‘Just gave the order,’ says Katie. ‘Just like his heroin has indirectly killed hundreds. You’re right, it’s so much more acceptable.’

  An uncomfortable silence settles over the group and they return to looking around the area. They’ve already taken photos with Sam’s phone, the same phone they’d watched the blogger’s video on, of the point of discovery, and they’ve also taken their own video of the rest of the expanse of dense woodland surrounding them.

  ‘The helicopter will be here soon,’ says Sam. ‘If they’re hiding out there, we’ll get them.’

  Nathan carefully hovers one of his boots next to the nearest footprint they’d found. About a size eight had been the initial assessment, although there’s something about the downward pressure within the print that’s making Nathan wonder if they’re not being misled again.

  ‘At least the footprint and the video make you look innocent,’ says Katie, scowling at Sam.

  ‘That’s because I am innocent.’ Her shoulders seem to sag a little as she looks back down the hill where they found the skull. ‘I had nothing to gain from killing Carl.’

  ‘If that is Carl. If it wasn’t somebody who found out about the two of you, somebody you needed to keep quiet.’

  Sam shakes her head. ‘We were very careful. Nobody knew about us.’

  ‘Christian’s addition to Nathan’s journal suggests otherwise,’ says Katie.

  ‘Nobody ever followed me here. I took all the precautions.’

  ‘What, about Watkins?’ asks Katie. ‘Might he have known Christian? Might he have used him, the way he so evidently used you, maybe got him to do a bit of his dirty work?’

  ‘No way he kept that from me.’

  ‘And if there was someone living with Christian, a woman perhaps, could they have got behind his defences?’ asks Katie. ‘Like you did with Watkins?’

  Sam closes her eyes and remains still for a moment. Nathan wonders if she’s searching through her memories for something to say, or already has all the information and is double-checking what she’s willing to reveal. He, like Katie, doesn’t believe they’ve had the full story from Sam. ‘He was distracted,’ she says, finally. ‘At the end. There was something troubling him. In fact, he was scared. Scared like I’d never seen him before.’

  ‘He didn’t trust you enough to tell you what it was?’ asks Katie.

  ‘We had no secrets,’ says Sam, quickly.

  ‘Might it have been the murder of Steven Fish?’ asks Nathan. ‘You said yourself that there was a connection. And if he’d heard about the brutal killing of Fish…’

  ‘He’d heard,’ says Sam. ‘I asked him about it, and he didn’t seem that bothered.’

  ‘People can feign disinterest,’ says Nathan, watching the policewoman closely.

  Sam seems aware that she’s being watched, and a broad smile spreads across her face. ‘Ah, yes, I’d forgotten about your acting skills, Mr Radley. RADA, no less. Although your greatest performance was convincing your partner that your criminal urges weren’t taking hold.’

  ‘Let’s stick with this case for now,’ says Nathan, not rising to the bait. ‘I’m interested in the relationship between Carl Watkins and Steven Fish.’

  ‘There was no relationship,’ Sam snaps back.

  ‘I see,’ says Nathan, believing that there was. ‘And yet Carl did mention him a couple of times.’

  ‘He mentioned you two more than a couple of times,’ says Sam. ‘And never favourably.’

  ‘Criminals are never fans of the police,’ says Katie. ‘Unless the police are working with the criminals.’

  Sam sighs and casts her attention upwards, drops of rain striking her face. ‘You just don’t understand it, do you?’

  ‘You’re right,’ says Katie. ‘I don’t. I don’t see how helping a man like Carl Watkins helps anybody. Other than Carl Watkins.’

  ‘Three drugs rings broken,’ says Sam, holding up the appropriate number of fingers.

  ‘Two murders unsolved,’ says Katie, doing the same.

  ‘They were not good people.’

  ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night,’ says Katie. ‘I think you fell for that charm. I mean, Nathan’s performances were nothing on Carl’s.’

  ‘You didn’t know him. He wasn’t what you think.’

  ‘Oh, I imagine he was far worse. I only got a glimpse of his criminality when he slipped up. Or rather, when both of you slipped up.’

  ‘I wasn’t working with the devil.’

  ‘That’s exactly what you were doing. The problem is you’re blind to it, even now.’

  Nathan is watching the toing and froing between Sam and Katie. Katie is worryingly close to the edge again. But more worrying still is Sam. She’s like a different person to the one Nathan had watched calmly walk into the interview room and hold command with Ken Stocks and Superintendent Taylor. He’s sure that Katie is about to push Sam some more, to take advantage of this weakness, when the same two senior detectives come into view, having toiled up the hill.

  ‘It looks like we’ve finally solved the mystery of Carl Watkins’ disappearance,’ says a panting Ken Stocks. He pushes up his lip on the left side and taps some bright white molars. ‘Two gold teeth, just like Carl had. I’ll never forget that bastard’s smile as he walked away grinnin
g from whatever we threw at him.’

  Nathan glances across at Sam and, as expected, sees her pain at hearing confirmation of the victim’s identity.

  ‘No way of knowing if it’s the same killer,’ says Superintendent Taylor. ‘Very different MO.’

  ‘But the location was referenced in the latest page of Nathan’s journal,’ says Sam, pulling herself together rapidly.

  ‘Written by Nathan?’ asks Ken Stocks.

  ‘Added later by Christian,’ says Katie.

  ‘Really?’ says Stocks, looking unconvinced. ‘So might Watkins be one of Christian’s?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ says Nathan. ‘Although I wonder how he knew about this place.’

  ‘I was wondering how you lot did,’ says Taylor, looking around.

  ‘Surveillance,’ says Sam, jumping in before any of the others have a chance. ‘Carl Watkins was clearly a person of interest to my organisation, and to me in particular. I’ve been to this place before. I remembered the twisted oak and the barbed wire.’

  ‘Still a bit of a stretch,’ says Ken, sounding unconvinced.

  ‘Not when you consider when Watkins was last seen,’ says Sam. ‘It was just before Steven Fish’s death.’

  ‘So was there a connection between them?’ asks Taylor. ‘I remember Fish had a minor for possession.’

  ‘Maybe there was a link,’ says Katie, glancing across at Sam. ‘I’m sure it’ll all come out in the end.’

  ‘But when is that end coming?’ says Stocks. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong. If it’s the Carl Watkinses of the world that we’re digging up, then I’m in no rush, but Dr Hartham, and of course, Mike, are needing justice to be done.’