The Descent (Detective Louise Blackwell)

by Matt Brolly

  ‘Ah, Inspector Blackwell, so good to hear your voice, how the devil are you?’

  His patter was too constant to be an act. He lived every second as if he were in a play, projecting his voice even though he was on the telephone. She pictured him speaking in a crowded bar, its occupants falling silent as he spoke. ‘I’m very well, Mr Garrett. How are you?’

  ‘Now, now, we’re not going to have to go through that again, are we?’ he replied, rekindling an old conversation they’d once had.

  ‘Sorry, I forgot. Dominic, how are you?’ said Louise, playing along.

  ‘I am splendid, Inspector. It’s the first day of the week, the sun is shining, and I am about to leave the office. That’s why I’m calling you in fact. I was wondering if you would care to join me in a spot of lunch with a former employee of mine?’

  ‘I’m intrigued, Dominic, but I am a bit busy at the moment.’

  ‘Don’t you even want to know who would be joining us?’

  ‘If I was to guess, I’d say Tania Elliot.’

  ‘Splendid, I guess that’s why you’re the inspector.’

  It didn’t take much deduction. She’d been avoiding Tania’s calls since Claire’s body had been discovered but was surprised that the journalist would go to such lengths to see her. ‘What’s it about, Dominic?’

  ‘Exciting times, Inspector. Ms Elliot is working on another extended feature. You know how it is, she’s had a taste of the limelight and now she wants more.’

  ‘And this involves me how?’

  ‘Oh come, Inspector. Those two poor unfortunate souls who took their own lives.’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘I’ll let young Tania tell you more. She has a theory about how their deaths are linked.’

  Louise let out a long sigh. ‘Where and when?’

  Louise parked in the shopping centre car park just off the seafront. As she cut through the Sovereign Centre into the pedestrian-zoned high street she was struck by a sense of déjà vu, as if walking past the same faces and hearing the same noises – the endless whispering chatter, the squawking of the seagulls above. Despite the infiltration of holidaymakers that would almost double at the end of the week when the schools kicked out, Louise felt the smallness of the seaside town at that moment. The high street had seen better days. She remembered how busy it had been as a child, the wonder of walking down its street free from the threat of cars. There had been a coffee shop then, not the chain offering that was there now, but an actual coffee shop selling coffee beans. The smell of the place had been alien to her and made her occasional visits more exotic. Now the street was tired, the shabby storefronts overrun with pop-up shops selling mobile-phone accessories and remaindered books.

  Dominic Garrett was waiting for her in the bar area of the Royal Oak Hotel. A wide smile formed on his face as Louise approached, his rich baritone welcoming her with, ‘Inspector Blackwell, what a treat. You’ll remember Tania Elliot. Unfortunately no longer on our payroll but forever connected to our humble little paper.’

  Louise held her hand out to the journalist. Tania was a different woman to the one she’d come to know over the last couple of years. Gone was the faux confidence that must have used up all her energy each time they met. In its place was the relaxed demeanour of someone who’d been recognised for their efforts. She even dressed differently, in a sharp business suit adorned with expensive-looking accessories around her neck and wrist. ‘Good to see you, Louise,’ she said, her tone neutral as if she was doing Louise a favour by being there.

  Garrett ordered drinks for them, Louise surprised when the editor chose a glass of sparkling water for himself. ‘I’ve gone from the “it’s six somewhere in the world” to the “not before six” drinking routine,’ he explained. ‘It’s done nothing for my waistline but I have a clearer head during the day.’

  The lack of alcohol didn’t affect the editor’s personality. His presence had taken over the bar. On the way to the table he stopped to talk to different groups of people on three occasions, shaking hands and making jokes.

  ‘Is there anyone you don’t know?’ asked Louise, as they took a seat overlooking a patio garden area.

  ‘I think there is a family in Worlebury I’ve yet to meet,’ he said, groaning from the exertion of taking his seat.

  ‘So how can I help you both?’ said Louise, the question centred on the journalist who’d so far kept quiet.

  Tania glanced at Garrett before retrieving a piece of paper from her handbag and placing it in front of Louise without speaking.

  Louise eyed the pair before unfolding the paper, preparing herself not to give anything away. She gave a cursory glance at it before speaking. ‘I guess it would be pointless asking where you got this from?’

  The paper was a copy of the two suicide notes from Victoria Warrington and Claire Smedley. Tania had underlined the matching lines. ‘Care to comment?’ asked Tania.

  ‘Beyond stating that this is evidence and you shouldn’t have it, no.’

  ‘It was sent in from an anonymous source.’

  Louise wasn’t sure what troubled her most. That the journalist had the note, or that someone in her team had leaked the messages.

  ‘It would appear we may be on the verge of a suicide pandemic,’ said Garrett, wincing as he sipped his sparkling water.

  ‘That’s quite hyperbolic even for you, Mr Garrett.’

  ‘Pandemics have to start somewhere,’ said Garrett.

  ‘You’ll recall what happened in Bridgend?’ said Tania.

  Louise rolled her eyes. The journalist could obviously smell a story. A few years ago, a group of young adults had killed themselves in the small mining town of Bridgend in South Wales. The total deaths came to twenty-six over a two-year period. Louise’s team at MIT had been called in to advise on the tragedy. No clear connection had ever been discovered for the suicides. All but one of the young adults had taken their lives by hanging. ‘I think it’s too early to be making comparisons to Bridgend, Tania. Suicide pacts between two people are not uncommon. These two women could have agreed to kill themselves. That is the theory we’re working on at present. Suggesting anything else at this stage would be highly irresponsible.’

  ‘Did the two women know each other?’

  Louise had dreaded the question even though she’d expected it. ‘I can’t confirm or deny that. This is an on-going investigation.’

  Tania raised her eyebrows at Garrett, the three of them understanding Louise’s response. Garrett drank again, his displeasure at the lack of alcohol all too evident on his face. ‘I would agree that publishing anything at this stage would be unprofessional. Maybe we can reach an agreement?’ said Garrett.

  ‘An agreement?’

  ‘I don’t publish anything for now. In return, you give me a heads up on any developments before anyone else,’ said Tania.

  It sounded like the journalist wanted there to be more deaths. Louise stopped short of saying as much and agreed in principle. It meant very little. Louise had no intention of updating the journalist beyond possibly answering her calls on an occasional basis. But for now, it would be much better for the story to stay out of the press. It could prompt others to take their lives and Louise was happy to make such an agreement for the time being to stop that from happening.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Amy visited Ashcombe Park every morning that week. She knew Megan wouldn’t be there – she’d told everyone about her mind-numbing shifts at the holiday camp on the group chat – but it still gave Amy some comfort to make the daily jaunts. She was desperate to tell someone about Jay and Sally. The knowledge was a burden. Amy’s dreams were besieged with images of Sally falling to her death and she needed someone to tell her that this was okay, that it was what Sally wanted.

  It was now Thursday, the day of the ceremony. She’d been at the park for over an hour, sitting on the swings enjoying the isolation. She had to be at work in fifty minutes. The thought made her want to stay on the swings that
much longer. She pushed herself off, moving higher into the air. As she rose and fell, she kept her gaze upwards so all she could see was the trees on a canvas of misty grey sky. Each time she reached the zenith she considered letting go of the taut chains to see if she would ascend into the clouds or fall back to earth.

  She was sweating by the time she dragged her feet across the ground to stop the swing. She pictured Aiden as a toddler, smiling as she pushed him on the swings. The fact that the images were pure imagination didn’t diminish their impact. She’d missed out on such simple joys but that didn’t mean that was the end of it. Jay had shown her that and, despite the tears trailing down her hastily made-up face, she believed him.

  Work was quiet. Tomorrow was the last day of the school year in most places so everywhere was preparing for the onslaught of additional holidaymakers. Keith had hired a new girl to help out for the season. Nicole was a nineteen-year-old who’d just completed her first year of study at Swansea University. She was a quiet, frail thing, and already Amy had caught Keith glancing at her. Amy checked the rota for the coming weeks. Fortunately, the season promised to be so busy that there wasn’t a time when Nicole would be alone with the café owner, but that didn’t mean she would be out of his reach.

  Amy walked Nicole to the bus stop after their shift. She was more talkative away from the café and told Amy about her Materials Engineering course at university. It didn’t make much sense to Amy but it cheered her to see the girl so animated.

  ‘I know you don’t need me to tell you this but keep an eye on Keith,’ said Amy, once the girl had stopped talking.

  ‘Is he a bit of a letch?’ said Nicole, with a snarl. ‘I had a feeling. I was surprised how hard it was to get a job this summer. Everywhere decent was full up. No offence,’ added Nicole quickly.

  Amy laughed. ‘No offence taken.’ She wanted to warn Nicole that Keith was more than a letch. She had no proof but was sure the man was dangerous. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this but if you can find something else you should take it.’

  ‘That bad?’ said Nicole, as her bus arrived.

  Amy shrugged. ‘See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Bye,’ said Nicole, stepping awkwardly on to the bus.

  As Amy walked back through town she regretted being so forthright with Nicole. It would be the last thing she needed to hear on her first day in work. She should have waited, at least allowed her to get her first pay packet before scaring her off. At least she would be at work nearly every day over the next four weeks. It shouldn’t be this way, but she would be able to keep an eye on the girl and hopefully something else would come up for Nicole in the meantime.

  A nervous anticipation ran through her as she prepared for the evening. She was too excited to eat much but forced half a Spanish omelette down with a glass of milk. She always got this way before the ceremonies, and the feeling had intensified each time since that night in Brean when Victoria had jumped. Before then, her nervous energy had focused on seeing Jay again. And although that was still the case, and in truth she couldn’t wait to see him, she was also looking forward to seeing Megan again. But there was more to it than that. If her theory was correct, then Sally would be the one jumping tonight.

  The knowledge conflicted her. It was why they were all part of the group. Jay, with the help of the DMT, had shown them that something better waited beyond the confines of this world. She wouldn’t have believed it before, would have dismissed it as nonsense, wishful thinking, but Jay had shown her. Why then did she want to warn Sally? Surely Jay would have told her, had prepared her as he always promised he would.

  Amy put it down to nerves. She’d never known in advance who would be chosen so this had freaked her out. It would all be okay. She had faith in Jay. He knew what he was doing and seeing him together with Sally earlier in the week didn’t change anything.

  She washed, the grease from the café taking numerous scrubs to come clean from her skin, and reapplied her make-up. Since she was a teenager she’d never gone outside without it. There was no vanity to it. She wore it as a means of protection. The make-up was a mask she hid behind, so she could be anyone she wanted.

  The heat from the day was unrelenting. The sky was still pitted with occasional clouds, but this somehow only served to make it hotter. Before heading off, Amy stood in the shade at the front of the flats and tried to control her breathing. Her body hummed in expectancy, and she fought the trickle of sweat forming at her temple. She stayed that way for fifteen minutes, allowing the cool of the shade to lower her pulse and body temperature.

  The meeting point was three hundred yards into the woodland area from the car park along the toll road. Still early, Amy made slow progress to the rendezvous point, her eyes darting nervously on the lookout for Megan or other members of the group.

  A group of men, teenagers most probably, whistled to her as she made her way along Milton Hill. Amy smiled at them when she wanted to raise her middle finger. Chances were they meant nothing by it but it didn’t excuse their behaviour, leering over a lone female when they were in a group fuelled by testosterone. One of them looked uncomfortable. He raised his hand as if in apology; somehow, Amy despised him the most.

  The temperature dropped as she made the steep climb to the car park. The darkening clouds threatened rain and she realised she was completely unprepared for such an eventuality. A hush descended as she entered the car park area, as if the birds and the rest of the woodland wildlife were preparing for the storm. She recognised Jay’s camper van, one of only three vehicles in the car park, and her heart skipped involuntarily as she stepped on to the green trail, into the heart of the woodland.

  Trying to control a mounting panic – she enjoyed being alone, but this isolation was unnerving – Amy stepped along the dried footpath and hurried forwards until she saw the group gathered by a large sycamore tree.

  Jay welcomed her with a big smile and a hug, and it was all she could do not to cry. ‘Could we pick somewhere a little less creepy next time?’ she asked, as he pulled her close. She could have stayed this way forever, despite the eyes of the other group members boring into her. She closed her eyes to banish their gaze, savouring the smell of Jay’s neck and the heat from his skin, until he gently pulled away.

  Amy caught Sally’s glance as she took a step backwards. She looked different to the time Amy had seen her with Jay by the pier. Amy couldn’t quite pinpoint it but the woman appeared older, wiser even, as ridiculous as that sounded. Sally looked completely at ease and wasn’t troubled by Jay embracing her. Amy was sure now that Sally knew it was her turn tonight; Amy hoped she would be as calm when her time came.

  Megan was the last to arrive fifteen minutes later. Amy fought her own ridiculous jealousy as Jay embraced her, his dark eyes closing as he held her tight.

  ‘I was scared I wasn’t going to make it in time,’ Megan whispered to Amy, as they made their way through the woods. ‘I had to pretend to be sick to get off my shift.’

  No one had ever dared miss a ceremony before. It went beyond a fear of missing out. Each occasion could be the night they were chosen. Although it was now apparent to Amy that Sally would be next, everyone else was under the illusion that it could still be their turn.

  The trek went further and further into woodlands, Jay walking forwards without a map until a clearing appeared and they made their way across the toll road and through more woodland until they reached the cliff edge. A general murmur of approval spread through the group as they set up camp. Soon they were sitting around a campfire, Megan snuggled close into Amy like before. It felt even more right this evening, and Amy wanted to share what she knew about Sally, but there wasn’t time.

  Jay stood, his features lit by the glow of the fire. Behind him the sky had darkened. The clouds had vanished and a bank of stars winked down on them. Jay took the pot from the fire and allowed it to cool.

  One by one he went around the group and offered them the Ayahuasca tea. Despite knowing it was Sally’s turn to
night, Amy experienced a flutter of doubt as Jay moved towards her as if he was going to single her out. ‘For you,’ he said, handing her the tea. Amy took the drink, all her doubts obliterated by Jay’s melodic voice, and drank it in one. She was used to the acrid odour now, the dank taste of the earthy tea that had repelled her the first time she’d tried it.

  The physical world slipped from her immediately as she travelled through a long vortex tunnel to the place she called the waiting room. Although it had four walls, the word ‘room’ was a stretch. Amy felt as if she was floating and beyond the confines of the room she knew Aiden was waiting. She didn’t break through this time – the tea wasn’t strong enough – but she was aware of the other dimensions as her body thrummed with an overwhelming sensation.

  Jay was waiting for her when she returned. A couple of the others were still in the process. Across from her, her figure flickering in and out of the shadows from the fire, Sally had already returned. She looked serene as if she’d made her peace with this world.

  One by one they told their stories. It hurt Amy every time but it was important. Cathartic, Jay had called it. It had taken her some time to understand what he’d meant but she understood now. It was okay to cry and she did so as she told the group again about Aiden.

  As Megan placed her arm around her when she struggled with the last part of her tale, Amy noticed a look from Jay. It had only been a flicker, a subtle change in his features. It was as if he was jealous of the attention she was receiving from her friend. She’d never seen that look from him before and concluded she was probably reading too much into it. She didn’t have time to dwell as Megan took her turn to speak.

  Megan’s story never got any easier to hear. It was staggering how together she was after what had happened to her. The abuse had started at a tragically early age. It went on for over two years before Megan was taken from her mother and stepfather but it hadn’t stopped there. Megan still blamed herself for what happened in the ensuing years. She told the group now, tears streaming from her face, about how she was passed from body to body in her various care homes. The shocking mistreatment went beyond even what Amy had experienced. Megan crept closer into Amy’s embrace – her body too frail, like a pile of twigs – as she spoke, and again Amy saw Jay noticing. He’d caught her looking this time and smiled, as if encouraging her to care for her friend; it despaired her to think in such a way but Amy wasn’t convinced the gesture was genuine.