by Mark Sennen
‘As you can see,’ Parker said, ‘it would be very dangerous to try anything stupid.’ He gestured at a pair of ropes which had been tied to the bed frames and ran from there in a gentle curve up to each boy’s neck. The ropes had been tied in a noose. ‘One push and it’s all over.’
‘It’s all over for you anyway, Brenden. There’s no escape, so you may as well give yourself up.’
‘I don’t want to escape. In case you missed it, I wanted you to catch me. I gave you numerous clues but you failed.’ Parker gestured at one of the overturned beds. ‘I carved a message under there. I placed the manacles down in the cellar. I sent Conrad Hardin the messages. I wanted you to work out what had happened here and why. But what you worked out wasn’t what I was expecting. It turned out I hadn’t killed Jason Caldwell, that it was my father. Unfortunately the revelation came much too late. Father was in custody and out of my reach and I … well, I’d already gone too far.’
‘You killed Liam Clough and Jason Hobb.’
‘The thing with Liam was an accident. I wanted to play, but he wouldn’t stop screaming.’
‘So you choked the life out of him and left him in the tunnel half naked and covered in grease.’
‘You don’t understand. I was trying to bring closure to that part of my life. To resolve my issues. I also hoped Jason and Liam would be my friends. I’ve never had many friends.’
‘Friends? You butchered Jason. For Christ’s sake, you boiled his head in a pot.’
‘I had to, I lost Smirker, you see? After he died, I buried his skull in the wood where we used to play. It was his favourite place in the whole world. I used to go there and talk to him. He was my confidante, my best buddy. Then, when I heard the house was up for sale, I went and retrieved the rest of his bones from the cellar. Everything was great until you lot interfered and stole him away from me. With Smirker gone, I thought Jason could be his replacement, but he didn’t want to play ball, so Jason had to become the new Smirker. Not before he poked me in the eye though. Funny, I now look like Smirker. Ol’ one eye. Ha, ha, ha!’
‘Right.’ Savage shook her head. She didn’t know what the hell Parker was going on about.
‘None of this was my fault, you know? Somebody else was to blame.’
‘Not so, Brenden. Your father may have been responsible back then, but you’re the guilty party here.’
‘NO!’ Parker pushed himself up from the armchair. Now Savage could see he held a small plastic weapon in one hand. A Taser. ‘I was thirteen!’
‘My God!’ The revelation came as Savage stared at the Taser. ‘You’re the guy who kidnapped Perry Sleet, who killed Tim Benedict.’
‘Of course.’ Parker appeared surprised at Savage’s reaction. ‘I call myself the Shepherd, when I’m in character. To be honest though, the Shepherd is a bit of a bore. He doesn’t know how to have fun. I much prefer being plain old Brenden.’
‘But …’ Savage shook her head, tried to understand the contradictions. ‘You Tasered yourself?’
‘Give the Shepherd some credit. He did the Tasering, I just stood there and took it. I must say it wasn’t pleasant. Quite the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. The thing about a Taser though – the whole point of them – is the effects are only temporary. Within a few minutes I was back to normal. Well, as normal as I’ll ever be. I had to do it because I thought I was guilty of the murder of Jason Caldwell. Luckily I managed to convince myself otherwise.’ Parker smiled. ‘Or should I say, you managed to convince the other me otherwise. Or is it me who convinced I otherwise? The whole thing is so terribly confusing.’
Savage glanced up at the boys hunched on the windowsill. This was worse than she thought. Parker was a complete nutcase, Looney Tunes, bonkers. The death of Jason Caldwell when he was but a boy, along with an abusive father and growing up in the awful environment of the home, must have affected him deeply. The loss of his mother had pushed him over the edge and now he’d flipped completely. The gruesome way he’d disposed of the Hobb boy was proof of that. At any moment he could lose control and push the boys to their deaths. She had to keep him talking.
‘But your father killed Jason Caldwell; why punish Benedict and Sleet?’
‘I wanted to punish the cowards who let all this happen. I went to Perry for help and he blanked me. Likewise Benedict. I told him what was going on at the home, but he ignored my pleas. Can you believe he told me to pray? And PC Hardin acted no better. I left a message for him, a clue in the form of a picture. I even wrote “HELP” on the back. Ultimately it was Hardin who killed Clough and Hobb, in the same way he killed Caldwell. If Benedict, Sleet and Hardin hadn’t been cowards complicit in the covering up of the minster’s abuse, none of this would ever have happened.’
‘Hardin wasn’t complicit. He reported the matter, but his superiors told him to drop it.’
‘And it was up to him to decide who should face punishment and who should be let off scot-free, was it? Concentration camp guards are usually found guilty, so why not Hardin?’
Savage shook her head. She had no answer for Parker. Hardin had done his best, but should he have done more? And how many others had done as Hardin had? In every corner of the country there were people who’d looked away or chosen not to take things further. Nothing could excuse Parker’s own behaviour, but might he have turned out different had Hardin insisted on being heard?
‘I want Hardin up here with me,’ Parker said. ‘I’ll exchange him for the boys. Hardin’s the final person on my list.’
‘That’s not going to happen, Brenden. You’re mentally ill and you need help. Release the boys and I’ll see this ends in the best possible way. I know you don’t want to kill them.’
‘WRONG! You don’t know anything about me. Killing started this whole thing and killing can finish it. I tried to control myself by becoming the Shepherd. I looked to God to see if He had the answers. He fucking didn’t.’
Savage held out her hands and made a calming gesture. Parker was staring at the ceiling, sucking air in and out, the Taser swinging back and forth. She let the silence build and then lowered her voice and spoke again.
‘Why Jason Hobb? Why Liam Clough?’
‘Why?’ Parker lowered his head, his eyes rolling down until they met hers. ‘I had to have boys with those names for my game with Hardin to work. I also wanted them to be my friends. Jason, Liam and me. Best buddies. It could have been perfect.’
‘So it was just luck you picked them?’
‘With Liam, yes, but I was having trouble finding a young boy called Jason, the name’s not so common nowadays. If Ned Stone hadn’t been going out with Angie Hobb, he’d never have come to my attention.’
‘And you met Stone so you could ask him to help you find Sleet and Benedict?’
‘He was at the home. He suffered too. Everyone did. Originally I was going to have Stone help me capture Benedict and Sleet, but then I came across this.’ Parker waved the Taser. ‘A wonderful piece of equipment. Once I managed to get one in my hands, I became all powerful, God-like.’
‘But these boys.’ Savage gestured at the window. ‘They’re as innocent as Hobb and Clough.’
‘Innocent? Now there’s a word.’ Parker raised a hand and tapped a finger to his temple. ‘But that’s all it is, a word. Who is truly innocent? The corollary to the question being, who is truly guilty? Your Hardin pretended to be blind to the facts all those years ago. Even though he knew the minister was abusing boys, he still did nothing. Now he’s got another roll of the dice. He can come up here and save these two, or …’ Parker half turned and gave the pair of ropes a little tug. ‘Or he can kill them.’
‘You’ll be responsible, Brenden. Not Hardin.’
‘NO!’ Parker moved towards the windowsill. He placed a hand on the back of one of the boys. ‘I’m fucked up because he did nothing. And if he does nothing now, then both these children will die.’
‘OK, OK.’ Savage held up her hands. ‘Take it easy. We can work this out.
Hardin is down in the car park.’
‘Really?’ Parker cocked his head on one side but then smiled knowingly. ‘No, I put my head above the parapet and get a bullet in the brain for my troubles.’
‘Even if there was a sniper down there, do you think they’d risk shooting you when you’re so close to the boys? They could hit one of them or you could fall from the window, knocking them down. Presumably that’s why you got them up there in the first place?’
Parker nodded. ‘Clever, aren’t I? All right then, I’ll take a peek.’ He turned and climbed up on the armchair and peered out of the window. After a couple of seconds he ducked back inside and dropped down into the chair. ‘Seems you’re right. Is there anything you don’t know?’
‘I don’t know why you’re doing this, but we can talk about that when you’ve released the boys.’
‘I told you, I want Hardin.’
‘Fine, I need to make a call, OK?’ Parker nodded and Savage reached into her pocket, slowly withdrew her phone and held it to her ear. ‘Are you getting this, sir? Parker wants to exchange you for the boys … yes … yes … I think so … yes … really? Hang on, I’ll ask him.’
‘Well?’ Parker said as Savage looked up from the phone. ‘What’s the score?’
‘He’ll do the exchange, but downstairs. We have to be sure the boys are safe.’
‘No, you’ll set a trap. I release the boys and then some SWAT team comes rushing in. Stun grenades, tear gas, and before you know it there’s a gun to my head, the trigger pulled in self-defence.’
‘No SWAT team, Brenden. Conrad is suggesting we call the BBC out to Woodland Heights, get the whole thing down on camera. You can make a statement about the events which took place and then we do the swap. The BBC won’t send their reporter up here, so the interview needs to take place on the front steps. Once the interview is concluded, you release the boys and go back inside with Hardin and myself.’
‘The BBC?’ Parker moved his hand from the boy’s back and considered Savage’s words. ‘An interview? That could work, yes. I like it! But I want to be allowed to tell them everything, understand?’
‘Did you hear that, sir?’ Savage nodded at Hardin’s response and then ended the call. She looked at Brenden. ‘He’s going to phone the news crew now, we just need to wait until they arrive.’
‘Wait?’ Parker smiled. He reached up and wiped a tear from his good eye. ‘Oh yes, I’ve waited nearly thirty years – I think I can handle a few more minutes, don’t you?’
At one corner of the barn a substantial drainpipe hugged the stonework. Riley glanced down at his wellies. Hardly the best footwear to climb in, but perhaps the rubber would give his feet purchase. He placed his hands around the drainpipe and gave an experimental pull. The pipe appeared solid enough so he began to climb. It wasn’t far, perhaps four metres to the guttering. The hardest part was hauling himself over the lip of the roof, but he managed to wriggle up and then lie prostrate on the corrugated surface.
‘Are you there?’ Enders’ voice floated across the farmyard in the darkness.
‘Yes.’ Riley began to crawl towards the apex. As long as he stayed near the edge, the roof would probably hold his weight. In the centre of one of the cement sheets, without any structure to support his weight, the roof would almost certainly give way.
He reached the top without incident and sat astride the ridge. Down in the farmyard, Enders stood in the gloom, the light from his phone illuminating his face. Riley shouted to him.
‘Any news?’
‘Help is ten minutes away, minimum,’ Enders said. ‘And then we’ve still got to break down the door.’
‘Perry Sleet doesn’t have ten minutes.’ Riley shook his head. Cursed inwardly. ‘I’m going in.’
‘Be careful, sir.’
Riley wasn’t listening. He’d already begun to move along the ridge, trying to work out where the corridor was. He’d need to go beyond that point in order to be above the room Sleet was in. In the dark it was hard to judge the distance, but he stopped when he thought he’d gone ten metres. He moved down from the apex a little. Beneath his hand he felt the smoothness of a Perspex panel, but when he put his face to the panel he could see nothing through the crazed material. He moved to one side and started feeling for the little boltheads which protruded above the sheets. The bolts indicated where the sheets were secured to the rafters. He soon found a pair and sat between them. He braced himself as best he could with his hands and then stamped hard with both feet. The roof shuddered, but didn’t break. He tried again and this time was rewarded with a cracking sound. From below he heard Sleet cry out. A scream followed by a plea for help.
Riley stamped again and again. Pieces of roof began to fall inward, clattering down onto the floor inside the building. A few more kicks and Riley had created a hole big enough to get through. He peered down into the gloom, a pale glow below. Something mechanical whirred and Sleet let out another scream.
Damn it! Riley calculated the distance to the floor. Four metres for the wall and then another three for the pitch of the roof. He moved to the edge of the hole and felt down for the rafter beneath the broken roofing sheet. He lowered himself as much as he dared and then let his body fall, grasping the top of the rafter with both hands. He swung into space and hung for a moment. Now or never. He let go and dropped to the floor, landing awkwardly on the hard concrete, a burst of pain shooting up his ankle.
‘Heeelllppp meeeeee!’ Sleet screamed off to Riley’s right. ‘Arrrggghhh!’
There was a high-pitched whine and a rush of air. Riley pushed himself up from the floor. Bulkhead lights on the walls provided a low illumination and he could see Sleet lying on the stainless steel table beneath a huge gantry, a trellis of tubing supporting various pieces of machinery. A circular saw on some sort of mount. A drill attached to a vertical bar. A huge piston thing with a knife attached.
Riley ran forward. Sleet lay face up, his torso sliced skin and muscle, blood oozing from dozens of cuts.
‘Urrrgggghhh!’ Sleet gurgled, spitting red mucus. ‘Arrrggghhh!’
Riley stood at the side of the table looking for some sort of stop button. The saw began to descend again, the blade flashing in the light. Riley put his hands out and grabbed the metal arm the saw was attached to. For a moment he thought he’d stopped it, but the power of the hydraulic arm was too much and the saw moved down, the teeth ripping into Sleet’s legs.
‘Arrrggghhh!’
The cacophony of whining and drilling and pumping and whirring seemed to rise in pitch along with Sleet’s screams. Riley hauled himself up onto the table using a corner of the gantry. He stood and reached for a loom of cable which rose from the gantry and then looped across to some sort of junction box high on one wall. He pulled with one hand and then used both, hanging in mid-air for a moment before there was a loud bang accompanied by a shower of sparks as the cable ripped itself from the junction box and Riley fell to the floor. The noise from the machine tools ceased and the only sound was a faint gasping from Sleet.
Then the lights went out.
Savage’s mobile buzzed in her pocket. She pulled the phone out and looked down at the text message. ‘They’re here,’ she said.
‘Let’s go then.’ Parker pointed with the Taser. ‘Downstairs. Everyone. You first, then the boys and then me. Go on.’
‘We’re coming down!’ Savage shouted out. ‘Keep clear!’
The two lads swivelled on the windowsill and Savage saw their faces for the first time. Tear-stained, white with fear, on one of the boy’s cheeks a nasty bruise. They clambered down as best they could, their hands bound together in front of them.
‘Don’t worry,’ Savage said, trying to smile. ‘Everything’s going to be OK.’
She walked out onto the landing and edged down the stairs. The two boys followed, the ropes running limply from their necks back to Parker. Parker had the Taser and the rope in one hand and in the other he held a flick knife.
‘I’m warning
you, Savage,’ Parker shouted. ‘I could slit their throats in half a second.’
‘Nobody’s going to try anything, Brenden. Just stay calm.’
‘Oh, I’m calm all right.’
They made it to the top of the main stairs and then began to descend. Bright light illuminated the hallway, and through the front door, Savage could see a woman standing on the porch. Beside her, a cameraman hunkered behind a camera on a tripod. Both the woman and the man wore padded jackets, ‘BBC’ emblazoned on the front pockets.
Savage edged forward, the two children following.
‘Wait!’ Parker shouted from behind. He had the knife held out. ‘We stop here and Hardin comes across.’
‘Release the—’
‘WE DO AS I SAY OR WE GO BACK IN!’ Parker screamed. He waved the Taser at Savage. Then he smiled and whispered, ‘OK, send Hardin over, I’ll make a statement, I’ll release the kids and then I get to go upstairs with you and PC Plod.’
‘I’m coming in.’ In the darkness beyond the lights a bulky figure moved and Hardin lumbered from the shadows. He climbed the short flight of steps to the porch and nodded at Savage. ‘The boys all right, Charlotte?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good, good.’ Hardin half turned and raised a finger.
The reporter edged slightly to the left and held out a microphone. Everything beyond the lights was black. Like looking into a torch beam. The reporter had begun to say something but Savage wasn’t hearing her. Her attention was held by the cameraman. Or more succinctly his boots. Hi-Tech Magnums. Not the sort of footwear she’d expect a BBC employee to be wearing. And there was something very wrong with the camera. No way the guy was going to get any usable footage with the lens cap on.
