The Descent (Detective Louise Blackwell)

by Matt Brolly

  Louise tried not to think of Emily alone as an adult, wrapped in the same childish comforters. It was frightening how easy it was to imagine something like this happening to her niece; not that she needed a reason, but the thought made her even more determined to find out what had happened to these unfortunate women.

  Thomas looked towards her as she returned but didn’t say anything. She wondered if he had the same concerns, if he was projecting current events on to fears about his son’s future now he was getting divorced. It pained her to know that she would probably never know, that their relationship wasn’t close enough to talk that intimately.

  ‘Let’s look for a note,’ she said.

  The search didn’t last long, Megan’s belongings easily found and processed. The note was folded neatly inside the small holdall in the wardrobe. It was longer than the others. Louise tried not to be diverted by the horrendous recollection of systematic abuse in the note, but promised herself that when this was all finished she would open a case investigating the accusations within. The note finished with the now-familiar refrain:

  There are other worlds than this

  Death is not the end

  Louise placed the note in an evidence bag, and added the teddy bear from Megan’s bed for processing.

  ‘Old school,’ said Thomas, retrieving a brick phone from under the mattress and handing it to Louise.

  There was no pass code and Louise gained access to the phone with no trouble. Trying the address book, and recent calls, she realised there was only one contact on Megan’s phone.

  She didn’t need to check to know it belonged to the anonymous caller from last night. They had a name now. Louise clicked on the phone number. ‘Looks like we’re looking for someone called Amy,’ she said.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  From her fourth-floor window, Amy stuck her head out for something approaching the tenth time that day. The grey clouds looked out of place, as if they were hiding the sky, though they aptly reflected her mood. It was now 2 p.m. and she hadn’t called the café to say she wasn’t going to go into work today. Her phone was still switched off. She hadn’t touched it since calling the police. The device was buried beneath a pile of unwashed clothes. But out of sight didn’t mean out of mind. The phone – and the events surrounding her need to call the police – was all Amy could think about.

  She oscillated from worrying that she’d made a mistake to needing to know what had happened to Megan, from concerns over whether she should have called to a desperation that she hadn’t called in time. Were there messages waiting for her? Had the police taken her seriously? Had they recovered Megan’s body in time?

  She didn’t know for sure why she’d called the police beyond the nagging feeling that it was wrong to let Megan’s body be dragged out to sea and an uneasiness about the night’s events.

  Jay had never given any instruction on what would happen when they’d passed over, beyond the spiritual. Amy had assumed the body ceased to matter to him after that moment, a fact evidenced by the way he hadn’t seemed overly concerned that Sally had momentarily survived her fall in Sand Bay. According to Jay, she’d already passed over to the next realm. Why, then, had he wanted Megan’s body to be swept out to sea?

  The only logical conclusion Amy could draw was that he didn’t want the authorities to find her body. It was understandable considering he’d had his photograph in the paper and had been interviewed by the police. Yet it still felt wrong to Amy. She believed in Jay, still thought that her future lay in following Megan and the others as Jay had guided her, but it wasn’t right for Megan to slip away unknown. Amy and the others from the group were Megan’s only family, would have been the only people to have known she’d disappeared, had her body not been found. And for all Jay’s talk about the body being a vessel, and her own brief experience of escaping from that prison, Amy didn’t like the idea of Megan’s body never being discovered.

  But that wasn’t what was really bothering her; at least, not just that. Hard as she tried not to dwell on it, she had to accept that Jay had killed Megan last night. He’d held her down and snuffed the life from her as Amy had uselessly held on to her hand. She told herself it was no different from before. Jay had guided Victoria, Claire and Sally to their deaths, had all but pushed them over the cliff edges. Why then did this feel so different? She wanted to believe she was reacting to the physicality of Megan dying. Jay had told them Megan hadn’t wanted to fall, but hadn’t there been an easier way of helping her into the next life?

  Despite the clouds outside, it was repressively hot inside the flat. Amy considered going for a walk but couldn’t face the day. Dressed in only her underwear, she huddled on the sofa and watched videos on her laptop. She did her best to avoid thinking about Megan. She should be happy for her friend but the manner of her death, and what happened afterwards, had dampened that euphoria. She tried to latch on to her own trip from last night but in the stark reality of existence, it was hard to grasp the sense of detachment, the fading of insecurities she’d felt after drinking the tea. If only she could go back there now, all her concerns over Megan, and Jay, would vanish. And as her doorbell rang, she thought maybe that time was going to come sooner rather than later.

  She pulled on a T-shirt and stuck her head out of the window again, surprised when she didn’t see Jay’s familiar figure waiting for her.

  ‘Nicole,’ she called. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I was checking you were alive,’ shouted the girl.

  ‘Wait, I’ll buzz you up.’

  Nicole was out of breath by the time she reached Amy’s front door. She was pasty, her brow covered in sweat. ‘Are you okay?’ asked Amy, as she opened the door for her.

  ‘Am I okay?’ said Nicole. ‘Where were you today? Keith is furious.’

  Amy couldn’t muster any concern for her boss. It was only her second-ever sick day. Keith would probably find a way to dock her pay but she could live with that. ‘Did he send you?’

  ‘No, of course not. I was worried about you. I found your address in the staff book.’

  Amy blushed. Just hearing those words made her feel better. ‘Sorry, Nicole. Thanks for coming over.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Oh. I didn’t feel so good this morning. My phone wasn’t charged and I kept drifting in and out of sleep. I should have called in. Sorry.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologise to me. I’m just glad you’re okay. Have you taken anything?’

  Nicole’s concern was plastered over her face and Amy did her best to reassure her. ‘I’m fine. Must have been one of those twenty-four-hour things. I had some soup and bread earlier. I feel much better.’

  Nicole stared at her, her eyes holding her gaze in a way that reminded Amy of Jay. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m fine,’ said Amy, trying to convince herself. She’d only now remembered that Nicole had met Megan that one time. It was a shame Nicole hadn’t had the chance to know the real Megan. Megan had acted out of character that day, and it was a shame that would be Nicole’s only memory of her. Amy hoped Nicole’s memories of her would be more positive.

  She made some tea as Nicole opened the window. ‘I confess, I have another reason for being here,’ said Nicole, after a minute of comfortable silence.

  Amy fought her initial panic, wondering if somehow the police had traced her call and gone to Nicole at the café. ‘Oh yes, what’s that?’

  Nicole handed her a pamphlet. ‘It’s a free course being run by the library. Business Essentials. I thought perhaps we could go together. Find out what it takes to run a business.’

  Amy smiled. The young woman’s innocence and optimism was infectious. Working with Keith had yet to grind it out of her, and Amy was pleased she would soon be back at university. ‘I’ll take a look,’ she said, ‘but I could do with getting some sleep.’

  Nicole couldn’t mask the look of hurt. Amy would have loved her to stay, just being in her company had perked her up
, but there was a danger for Nicole in being in her orbit. With her call to the police, and Jay being in the papers, she didn’t want to risk Nicole being drawn into something she didn’t deserve. It would be better for her not to know Amy at that moment.

  ‘I’ll look at it, Nicole,’ repeated Amy, as she walked her to the front door of the bedsit.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to impinge in any way. It’s just—’

  ‘It’s fine. I don’t think I’ll be opening my first Michelin-starred restaurant any time soon, but maybe this will be fun,’ she said, waving the pamphlet in the air. ‘We can talk tomorrow after work?’

  This seemed to placate Nicole, who left with a smile on her face. Despite recent events, Amy was pleased to be alone once more and when there was a knock on the door ten minutes later she didn’t answer it. As she hadn’t heard the doorbell ring, she presumed it was one of her neighbours. Whoever it was they were persistent, and Amy shuffled towards the door after the third set of knocks.

  She was surprised to see Nicole standing there when she opened the door, still smiling; however, that was nothing in comparison to the shock of seeing Jay standing behind her.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The noise of the holiday camp leaked through the walls of the prefab hut they’d been given to conduct their interviews in. The sound of giddy youngsters, and the beeping of electronics from the arcade machines, while not as vociferous, reminded Louise of the noise she’d endured at the pier earlier in the week. They’d gone straight to the campsite after leaving Megan’s caravan, keen to interview her former colleagues in the hope of finding out both more about her and the anonymous caller they now knew as Amy.

  The morning hadn’t gone well. It felt like they’d spoken to every monosyllabic teenager in the county, each with an almost identical story to tell: Megan kept herself to herself, and no, they’d never heard of anyone called Amy.

  Before leaving for the station, Louise tried Amy’s number again. ‘Amy, this is Louise Blackwell. We found your name as the only contact on your friend Megan’s phone. I know you’re probably scared and it must be daunting coming forward to the police but please contact us. You can also speak to me directly if you feel you are in danger, or if you just want to talk. I can help, Amy. Please call.’ Louise added her private mobile number before hanging up.

  ‘You think she’s in danger?’ asked Thomas, once they were back in the car.

  Louise shrugged. She thought about the restrained panic she’d heard in Amy’s voice as she called in the message. It was conceivable she’d had a change of heart after leaving her friend to be taken by the sea, but the hesitation she’d heard sounded to Louise as if the woman had something else she’d wanted to say.

  The station was a different place when she returned. The ghost-town feel of early morning had evaporated and it felt overcrowded as she sat at her desk and checked her messages. Joslyn had sent through a cryptic email to her private account, which effectively said she’d had no luck tracking Paul yet, and there was a note to call Stephen Dempsey at the coroner’s office.

  ‘Hi, Louise, thanks for getting back to me,’ said Dempsey. ‘I decided to start working early on the body discovered this morning. Megan Davies.’

  ‘Slow time of year?’

  ‘No, not really,’ said Dempsey, ignoring her attempt at small talk. ‘I took a second look once we’d got her back to the mortuary because of the poor light at the scene and I’m glad I did. I’d missed some signs of bruising around the mouth and nose which combined with the blood in her eyes and the high levels of carbon dioxide in her blood suggest she was suffocated. I need to do some more tests but it looks like this wasn’t simply another suicide.’

  After hanging up, Louise told Thomas about Dempsey’s findings.

  ‘So we have a murder case to work alongside the three suicides?’ he said.

  Louise bit the inside of her cheek. ‘I don’t think so. Remember, we have a suicide note for Megan. I think we might be looking at four murder cases.’

  Louise spent the next two hours preparing the necessary documentation for the Megan Davies case while Thomas re-examined the three previous autopsy reports for details they might have missed. Louise called Dempsey back to confirm he would prioritise the case, and followed up by calling FIU and requesting that hair samples be sent to Dr Everson at the Met. Despite which, she knew the results would take longer than she wanted. Her restlessness was a familiar feeling, and she fought her frustration as she accompanied Thomas to Jay Chappell’s bungalow. If Chappell’s fingerprints or DNA were found on Megan’s body they would be able to make an arrest. Until then, she had to hope that FIU would do as they’d promised and prioritise Megan’s case.

  ‘Confession time,’ she said to Thomas, as he drove towards Berrow.

  Thomas’s eyes widened to a comical extreme. She’d enjoyed working with him over the last few days. It was as if the old Thomas was returning. It was now a rarity for him to turn up to work hungover. The bloodshot eyes were gone and the combination of smarter clothes and being clean-shaven had taken a few years off him. At another time, she might have pursued her attraction for him but it was still too complicated, and probably always would be. ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘I visited Chappell yesterday. I haven’t had time to add it to the report yet.’

  Thomas let her words settle. ‘Haven’t had time?’ he said.

  ‘In case you haven’t noticed, a few things have been happening of late.’

  Thomas returned his attention to the road. He was right, of course. However busy they might have been, she should have added her visit to the report yesterday. If she was being honest with herself, something had held her back. She didn’t know if it was the nature of the conversation she’d had with Chappell, the book he’d given her, or the fact that she’d waited around the corner from his house for nearly an hour after meeting him. There was a hint of obsession to her actions, and at the edge of her thoughts was the worry that Chappell had somehow got to her. She recalled the warmth of his rich voice, the almost soothing way he’d spoken to her. All things she didn’t wish to share with Thomas, and definitely not on a police report.

  Like yesterday, there was no car on the driveway. Thomas knocked on the door, as Louise peered once again through the gaps in his window blinds.

  ‘So what happened when you talked to him yesterday?’ asked Thomas. They were back in the car, Louise having left a message for Chappell on her phone.

  ‘I went inside the house and questioned him,’ said Louise, hating the defensiveness in her voice. ‘I can write it all up for you, Sergeant, if you’d like?’

  Thomas didn’t react. He pulled out of the driveway, the hint of a smile on his face easing Louise’s increased heartbeat, and they headed out of Berrow. ‘Apologies,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t need to apologise to me. You’re the boss,’ said Thomas.

  She let the wind-up go. ‘We need to get everyone on to this, Thomas. I want to talk to Chappell as a matter of urgency.’

  ‘He doesn’t work, does he?’

  ‘Nothing official, no.’

  ‘Quite a nice place though.’

  ‘From the outside, yes,’ said Louise, recalling the desolate interior of the extended bungalow. ‘Anything strike you as odd about him when you were processing him?’

  ‘Not really. I guess he wasn’t very fazed by it all. He didn’t get nervous or tighten up. Nothing seemed to bother him.’

  ‘He doesn’t lack confidence,’ said Louise, drumming her fingers on the dash of the car. ‘I’m going to get someone out there.’ She called Simone and told her to arrange for a patrol car to wait close to Chappell’s house for his return. In the absence of locating Amy, speaking to Jay Chappell was their logical next step and as he didn’t have a work address, using resources to wait for his return made sense to Louise. Not that she needed to defend herself to Simone.

  ‘How’s your little niece?’ asked Thomas, stopping her internal monologue in its tracks an
d replacing it with a different kind of worry.

  He’d asked her the same question the other day in Nailsea, and her first thought was that he knew about Emily’s current situation. ‘She’s fine,’ she said, testing his reaction. She didn’t want to lie to Thomas, but the less people knew about Paul’s unannounced holiday the easier it would be to manage.

  ‘I know it’s a cliché, but they do grow up so fast, don’t they? Noah is four now, going on twenty. I see the change in him every time I’m with him. I guess not living with him twenty-four-seven makes the changes that much more apparent.’

  Sometimes in her line of work it was hard to remember that other people had their own issues. Here she was worried about her brother and niece, when Thomas was going through a divorce and living away from his only child. ‘They change in a blink of an eye. I sometimes go a couple of weeks without seeing Emily, and it’s like meeting a new person,’ said Louise. ‘Sorry, I hope that doesn’t—’

  ‘No, no. I know what you mean. It really isn’t that bad. As I said, I’m seeing more of him now than before. I’m looking at a two-bedroom flat this weekend as well. I think I’ll be skint forever but I’d like somewhere decent for him to stay when I’m with him.’

  ‘That’s great, Thomas. I’m pleased for you. Whereabouts?’

  ‘Over in Worle,’ said Thomas.

  ‘Oh really?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Thomas, smiling. ‘I’m not stalking you. Worle is quite a big place.’

  Louise matched his smile. ‘Just don’t go expecting any babysitting.’ She was amazed to find her eyes welling up again at the thought of Thomas alone looking after his son. The parallel to Paul and Emily was obvious but her visceral reaction was surprising. She’d always managed to separate the personal and professional. That she was struggling to do so, coupled with the mistakes she was making, was beginning to concern her.

  ‘Everything okay?’ said Thomas, his eyes firmly on the road ahead.

  Louise blinked her tears away. ‘Yes, just a bit tired,’ she said as Thomas turned the corner into the station car park. ‘It never ends, does it?’ she added, spotting DCI Finch’s car in her space.