Dead in the Water

by Matthew Costello

  Was gone.

  She got to the kitchen. With a flick, the modern kitchen was immediately bathed in bright, white light.

  So reassuring.

  She considered getting something to munch on. After all she was down here.

  But first, she turned to the room to the side, the small passage that led to her office, her desk, the computer with its new over-sized monitor, and the giant whiteboard with all those cards with names and lines.

  And she walked in.

  ***

  As soon as she crossed the threshold, her right hand again fishing on the wall for an elusive light switch, she saw that the French doors were open.

  Not a lot. A crack, really.

  But enough moonlight filtered in to let her see an inch – maybe a two-inch – opening. And feel the cool, damp air seeping in.

  Her hand still rested on the wall.

  But she thought, looking at the opening, the doors somehow, probably, must have just popped open.

  I could swear I turned the lock, she thought.

  She walked over to close them before doing anything else.

  And then – with a horror that made her stomach tighten and her body turn instantly icy cold – she heard sounds.

  In this room.

  Sounds. Steps.

  Breathing.

  ***

  Sarah spun around. She started to speak.

  “Who–?”

  And at that moment, though she had heard movement, definitely heard movement inside her new place, she didn’t see anything.

  But then, from a corner of the room, a dark shape, not catching any of that moonlight in its corner, came rushing towards her, a black blur.

  The movement made her stumble back. She felt the back of her legs hit the swivel chair by her desk – at just the wrong angle, so that she stumbled.

  I don’t want to fall. Not if someone is here.

  And that stumble meant that the black shape – the person rushing towards her as if performing a tackle – missed hitting her square on, catching just her left side.

  But it was enough of a hit to send Sarah twisting, then falling, hands flying out.

  Her fear now matched with another thought.

  Must protect myself. Must get up fast. Find some way to protect myself.

  But her stumble was so awkward that all she could do was fall down, in a corkscrew fashion, her head leading the way down. Her forehead caught a corner edge of her desk.

  The pain – immediate, electric. The smack sent her flying backwards the other way to the floor.

  She felt glass on the floor.

  Windows had been broken.

  That’s how the person, the shape, had got in here.

  But the throbbing in her head made almost any other thought impossible.

  Then a voice.

  Terrible but somehow – in that darkness – better than no sound at all.

  The tone, pitch, of the voice was as blurry as the shape had been.

  “Stay out of it, you hear! Just stay – out of it – or else!”

  The voice muffled, barely distinguishable.

  She had, despite the gash to her head, leaned up. She opened her mouth.

  To do what, she thought? Ask who this was?

  Stay out of what?

  But the man stepped over her, towards the open French doors, pushing them, and then running out into the darkness, leaving them now wide open.

  Leaving Sarah on her elbows, her heart racing, her head pounding, as for a few moments she remained perfectly still.

  22. Stay Out of What?

  For a few moments, Sarah thought she didn’t need anyone. But with the light now on, showing the glass shards on the floor, and her head with a thin rivulet of blood, and her fear still there…

  She knew she had to call Jack.

  Who was there in minutes.

  And he had insisted that Alan be called, woken in the night.

  Sarah didn’t argue.

  ***

  Alan showed up quickly, lights flashing but no siren.

  First things first, he took a look around the house, the garden, the yard, the stands of dark trees, the river, so flat and still on this otherwise quiet night.

  Jack wanted to call for an ambulance.

  But Sarah shook her head.

  “I think… it’s okay, hmm? Some peroxide, a bandage?”

  She heard Alan walk back in, then into the kitchen.

  Jack turned to him. “See anything?”

  “No. Should have a better chance in the morning. We’ll dust for prints. Though I’m not very hopeful there. Sarah, did you hear a car?”

  She shook her head then: “Ouch.”

  “See,” Jack said. “That’s a nasty bump.”

  “We could get someone to come over, take a look,” Alan said.

  Sarah looked from Jack to Alan. “I’m okay! Really. I don’t want to make too big a deal of this.”

  “Someone breaks in. Assaults you,” said Alan. “I’d say that’s a pretty big deal.”

  “Me too,” Jack said.

  Alan nodded and sat on one of the chairs.

  “The voice. Think you’d recognise it?”

  “No. It was muffled somehow. Like he had a cloth over his mouth.”

  “So, then, how about you two tell me what you’ve been up to.” Alan took a breath. “’Cause it seems like you’ve made someone very angry.”

  ***

  Jack made tea while Sarah filled Alan in on what they had been doing. How Josh’s death seemed to have opened up a whole can of worms.

  After all, this was really her case. He was just helping. But he also recognised something else. That this attack on Sarah scared him.

  In all the work they had done, he never really felt that Sarah was in danger.

  But this?

  He didn’t like that feeling.

  When Sarah finished, Alan turned to him.

  “The coroner hasn’t set a date for the inquest into Josh’s death. Up until now I had thought the whole thing was cut and dried. You got some evidence that I don’t have?”

  Jack looked into his teacup as if there were answers in the whirl of leaves and lemon.

  “To be honest,” he said, smiling, “I don’t have a clue. Obviously drugs involved. But there’s something else going on here, with kids. And you may want to talk to Terry Hamblyn, but I doubt you’ll learn anything more from him than I did. Whoever played with him like a punching bag knew what they were doing.”

  Alan nodded.

  “Doesn’t sound very safe right now. I mean, for you two. Somebody knows you’ve been digging around – and doesn’t like it.”

  Jack saw Sarah listening. She might have been scared earlier but now he felt something else. A steeliness? Or maybe anger? Jack had seen that before when someone was assaulted, or had their house broken into. Made some victims shrink back, intimidated. But not Sarah.

  And Jack wasn’t surprised.

  “The two of us – safe?” she said. “Alan – what about the kids up at the school? My kids? Are they safe?”

  Alan nodded.

  “Okay. I understand. But I’m going to make sure I pop by here a couple of times a night, okay?”

  Jack saw Sarah smile at that. “Good. And thanks.”

  But what Sarah said made Jack think of something.

  “Alan, tonight, by my boat, I heard noises. Sounds way in the distance. But booming music, echoing. Know what that is?”

  Alan seemed to hesitate.

  “Think so, Jack. Kids. All summer, they’ve been having these pop-up parties… raves. Seem to be back in fashion again. Pitch up in some deserted place, then they move to another. Hard to tell even where the music is coming from half the time. Trust me – I’ve looked.”

  “Raves.”

  Sarah and Alan’s eyes went to Jack.

  “Jack,” Sarah said, “what are you thinking?”

  “Well, back in the city, they held these big parties at warehouses in Quee
ns, or abandoned factories in the meatpacking district… those were raves. Lots of lights, that crazy music… and we soon found out, lot of drugs. Ecstasy. Lost a few kids at a festival on Randall’s Island.”

  “Happens in the UK too,” Alan said.

  “Thing is,” Jack went on, “never thought you’d have them here, in Cherringham.”

  “Lot of outsiders coming in too,” said Alan. “Like I said – a new thing.”

  “Jack,” Sarah said, “do you think that might have something do with Josh’s death too? These parties, a lot of drugs around?”

  Jack looked away. Though he was convinced now it wasn’t an accident. Especially after what happened to Sarah.

  They still had so little.

  But like other cases they worked, he felt they had a lot of the pieces right there.

  Just a matter of putting it all together.

  “Could be.” Then Jack turned to Alan.

  Police were involved now. And as an ex-cop himself, he had to ask Alan a question.

  “So, Alan… guess you would like us to stop?”

  Jack thought: Maybe this is a good way to get Sarah off this.

  Alan took a sip of his tea, taking his time.

  “Um. Well… yes… and no. I mean, Sarah you need to be safe. As I said, I can drop by, keep an eye on things.”

  “I’ll sleep on the couch for tonight,” Jack said. “In case the creep comes back.”

  “But, yeah, maybe it makes sense for the two of you to back off… just for a while?”

  “And do just like that guy warned?” Sarah said.

  At that, Sarah stood up.

  “This is my village. My parents live here; my kids are growing up here. So,” she looked at Alan, then Jack, “I don’t have a choice. We carry on.”

  Alan nodded. “Okay. Just be careful. And keep me in the loop.”

  She saw Jack’s face – that look he got when thinking about something with no easy answer.

  But he nodded. “Right. Your village. Never did like threats anyway.”

  Sarah smiled. “And look, the kids’ll be home in the morning. I think it’s best if they don’t know about this.”

  “And that bang on your head?” Jack said.

  “We’ll say I was messing about in my office. Shelf gave way. My head caught it.”

  Jack laughed. “Sounds almost plausible.”

  She smiled at that, thinking: Will be good to have Jack sleeping down here.

  Because as much as she masked it, she was – indeed – scared.

  But not scared enough to stop.

  Alan stood up.

  “I’d better be off. I’ll let you know. If I find out anything.”

  “Thanks,” Sarah said. “Oh – Alan – could you do me a favour?”

  “Depends,” he said, smiling.

  “You know the burger van up by the school?”

  Alan nodded.

  “You think you could do a check on the two guys who run it?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” said Sarah, now feeling that her suspicions would look absurd. “I just felt one of them was a bit…”

  She saw Alan looking at her as if she was losing it.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Forget that. Crazy idea.”

  “Hmm, I think so,” said Alan. “You know I help you guys out from time to time – and you help me. But there is a line, Sarah. And checking people out on the Police National Computer just because you–”

  Sarah jumped in quickly.

  “I know, I know,” said Sarah, nodding. “I’ve had a bump on the head – okay?”

  She walked him to the door, and watched as he climbed into his police car and drove away.

  It was amazing, she thought, that this house that had felt quickly tainted by the assault – the place invaded – now felt so different with the support of Alan and Jack.

  As for tomorrow, she thought, things would change.

  Because now, well… this was personal.

  23. A Crack in the Wall

  When Chloe and Daniel came home, Sarah kept her office door shut.

  She and Jack had swept up the shattered glass; then he left early for his boat and Riley’s morning walk.

  But the windows would need repairing. Someone was coming on Monday. And if either Daniel or Chloe noticed the damage, she’d just say some animal ran into them.

  A confused bird, a bat.

  Out here in the country, such things happened.

  But when Chloe breezed in so quickly, there was barely a moment for a “hello”.

  And even Daniel seemed quieter than normal, though he did look up and see the bang on her head. Her prepared explanation was accepted with a nod. And a little alarm bell went off.

  Things are changing… something’s different. Kids growing up… and growing away.

  Or was there more?

  But, for now, she let them be.

  And when she went into her office to look at the big whiteboard, the names up there like players waiting for their moment to be cast, she didn’t see where any of this might lead.

  She only knew that if someone had tried to intimidate her, then something had to be here.

  But what? Where?

  She sat down at her computer, cup of tea already cooling.

  She had promised that she’d find out where Josh lived. Could the missing connection be inside the dead teacher’s house?

  She hit the keyboard; the monitor lit up. But before she started searching, she remembered she needed to talk to Maddie. Find out who was in the Ploughman’s that night who shouldn’t have been.

  She picked up her mobile.

  ***

  Jack watched Riley race up to The Grey Goose, then back. Though he’d been here for quite a few days now, his dog seemed to still be a bit crazy at the reunion. Truth be known, Jack was enjoying it too.

  And despite feeling achy from last night’s sleep, he was so glad he had been there for Sarah.

  Tonight he’d have to figure out how he’d keep an eye on the place, with Alan.

  But for now he was enjoying the morning air, another great sunny day, the last bits of dew vanishing from the tall grass.

  Something about this place felt so good to Jack.

  And he wondered how he was going to face leaving it. That time – when the Goose was repaired; sold – was coming soon.

  He looked at the dumpster on the grassy bank set back from his boat, now piled high with rotten timber and ruined wiring – all hauled out of the Goose by his builders during the last week.

  Next to it stood a stack of new timber that the carpenter and his team aimed to use on Monday.

  Although it didn’t look possible, they’d said that – weather permitting – the Goose would be done, good as new, in two weeks.

  So that was the timetable he was working to.

  He reached the plank leading up to his boat’s deck when he heard his mobile phone ring.

  Like he did so many times, the phone forgotten, left on the table in the Goose’s saloon.

  He raced down into the small room, the low sun shining in through the narrow windows.

  “Hello?”

  And there was Sarah.

  And she was excited.

  ***

  “Right, Jack. Josh Owen lived just off the Burton road. You know – you head out past the station? Mostly farmland. Pretty deserted. Rented cottage, apparently.”

  “Great,” Jack said. “And neighbors?”

  “Online maps doesn’t show anybody close. You can barely see the cottage from the road.”

  “Good. Won’t tell Alan about this.”

  “No. I’m not sure he’d approve of breaking and entering.”

  “Not that I will break anything.”

  “Right. Any idea what we might find?”

  And that, Jack thought, is an interesting question.

  Normally when he did such a thing he had an idea – more or less – of what he hoped to find.

 
But inside Josh’s home?

  Drugs? Some evidence that he’d found something, that put him in harm’s way? A connection to whoever had taken over locally?

  Well, that was it, wasn’t it?

  What didn’t they know about the last few days of Josh’s life that would explain how his accidental death might really be a murder?

  Jack had written down the address. He was about to ask Sarah if she wanted to come along. Always good to have another set of eyes.

  Good to get her out, busy.

  “Sarah, do you–”

  “Hang on. I’ve got another call. It’s Alan. Can you hold?”

  “Sure.”

  And he waited, sitting down at his table – Riley following suit as if they made such decisions together – as he waited for Sarah to come back on.

  ***

  Then…

  “Jack, Alan got a call this morning. Nothing much, but a farmer said part of his stone wall had been knocked down.”

  “So why did he call you?”

  “Here’s the thing. The farmer said a lot of kids crossed his property last night; late, laughing, making tons of noise, like they had come from a party or something.”

  The rave.

  “Alan spoke to him, took the information – not much he could do, but he thought maybe we could talk to the farmer too. If these parties have anything to do with drugs, it’s worth a chat, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, definitely.”

  “Oh – and I talked to Maddie Brookes – got some names of kids for us to chase up.”

  “Good work. Takes more than a blow to the head to stop you, hmm?”

  He heard her laugh.

  “Mums – we roll with the punches. You okay hitting Josh’s place? I’ll go talk to the farmer. Meet up later at–”

  “Huffington’s?”

  She laughed again. The local café and bakery was almost an outpost of theirs – somewhere to swap information and suspicions.

  “Great. Around one. Though, on a nice Saturday the place will be packed.”

  “We can talk low. Pass notes maybe.”

  Another laugh.

  And Jack was about to tell Sarah: Be careful.

  But he was sure she would be. There was no need to make her any more rattled.

  After all, a chat with a farmer about a vandalised wall… not too dangerous…

  And as Jack got up, and went to a drawer to get his small lock-pick set – a break-in ahead of him – he guessed that if anyone should be careful, it was him.