by Kit Tinsley
When she reached the hole in the wall, she saw that it was more than big enough for a person to fit through. She looked at the hole, skimming her fingers across the edges. It was rough, covered in sharp, jagged edges. To Holly it seemed that the hole had been ripped into the metal sheet as opposed to cut.
She moved away from the hole, and headed into the darkness. Sweeping the beam across the floor she saw the blood smeared on the floor. The dark red fluid could have been missed without a torch, mistaken for oil maybe, but illuminated by the harsh light of the LED’s it was unmistakable.
‘Oh my God! That’s blood isn’t it?’ A voice from behind her.
Holly looked around to see Mrs Sampson stood in the darkness.
Pearce had gone to the Tesco in town and bought himself a chicken and bacon sandwich that he had eaten in the car, before setting off to investigate Flynn’s ‘bloodstained’ field. What was the rush? More than likely it was nothing, another one of the reporter’s wild goose chases.
Had he always been this jaded? He remembered when he was young, fresh out of training. Young P.C. Pearce had been full of the idealism and integrity that seemed to be the sole property of youth. Years in the job, seeing the awful things that people could do to each other, seeing the way that the system didn’t always work, and seeing how sticking to the rules wasn’t always the way things got done, had left him cynical and bitter. He still believed in the principals he had in the beginning, but now he knew that they were difficult to live by.
He drove the long way round to Martham Lane, out the north side of town and down the bypass. He found himself driving around the Glenley housing development. There were a lot of houses for sale here again. It hardly surprised him; that whole mess on Blackfriars Crescent earlier that year had left a lot of people scared, and a lot of wild rumours flying around about ghosts and monsters. Pearce always wondered why Flynn hadn’t latched onto that story; after all, he seemed to have a penchant for these wild tales. Yet the reporter had stuck to the facts in that case, even if he had seemed to show some sympathy for that monster Dan Martin, the one who had murdered his neighbours, his wife and even his own children.
The Blackfriars Crescent case had taken its toll on Pearce’s friend and colleague Tom Parker, though. Prior to that case Parker had been one of the strongest, and most determined coppers he had ever had worked with. Since that whole mess, though, Parker had been off work a lot with depression, and when he was there his mind seemed to always be elsewhere. He looked like shit, too. He was a good few years younger than Pearce, but since the bloodbath at Glenley, Parker looked older and grayer, and not just his hair, it was as if the colour had been drained out of not only his hair, but his skin, even his personality.
The Martin house had been leveled to the ground, along with the house next door where Martin and the bodies were found. No one was going to want to live in those houses, that was for sure. The demolition of the house had also sealed up that weird chamber beneath it.
Pearce had seen his share of tough cases, of horrific crimes, yet none had ever affected him the way Parker had been by the Blackfriars incident. Was he stronger? Or did he care less? He didn’t think that either was completely true. Pearce had always been able to switch off at the end of the day. As soon as his shift was over, the horrors of his job were packed up in his desk along with his case files. The only thorn in his side, the only thing that bothered him at home was Jason Flynn. He was one complication that couldn’t be left at work, one that was always on his mind.
He arrived at the layby where Philip Morgan’s car had been discovered. He pulled up and got out of the car. He took a deep breath of the country air, letting it fill his lungs and clear his mind. He looked around, in the field across the road he spotted something. There fluttering in the breeze, next to a solitary tree, was a makeshift flag, he guessed this was what Flynn had left to mark the spot of their discovery. Pearce sighed and set off across the road. Before he stepped into the long grass, he let his hand brush his hip and feel the bulge of the pistol holstered there. As always, its touch was reassuring.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Karl scanned the ground carefully. It was difficult to see anything on the woodland floor. The undergrowth was ironically over grown. If there was any evidence laying around, it would be easy for it to be lost forever in here. He looked to his left and saw Jason walking along about ten feet away from him. The reporter had his eyes to the ground, but Karl could tell from his expression that he thought the search was as pointless as he did. He turned his head to the right and saw the young man, Tim, wandering along eyes down, they were glazed, though. Karl knew that the young man was not even looking at the ground his eyes were fixed on, instead his mind was fixed on thoughts of his missing girlfriend.
‘This is pointless,’ Jason announced, finally breaking the silence that had fallen upon them over the last ten minutes. The sound of his voice stirred Tim out of his daze.
‘What do you mean?’ The young man asked.
‘All of these weeds, and shrubs and shit,’ Jason said. ‘We can barely even see the ground, how are we supposed to find anything like this.’
Tim looked panicked, as though he thought that Jason would suggest giving up the search. ‘Should we split up?’ Tim suggested. ‘We could cover more ground.’
‘No,’ Jason said. ‘Not in here, if we got lost we could be in trouble.’
‘I agree,’ Karl joined in. ‘It’s best we stick together.’
‘What do we do then?’ Tim asked, and air of desperation in his voice. ‘Where do we look?’
‘Let’s just keep heading straight for the middle of the woods,’ Jason said.
Karl nodded, knowing that Jason meant that this would be the safest place in the woods in the eyes of a big cat. It was the place that the animal was most likely to take its food.
‘Okay,’ Tim said, though his voice sounded distant, and on the verge of tears once more.
The three men set off towards the centre of the copse.
Annie Hayes lived in a world of innocence. She was blissfully unaware of the problems in her parents’ marriage and to a large degree to the evils of the real world. He existence was one of fairies and unicorns, of love and happiness. She walked into the field at the side of the road, though with its long grass and the dandelion seeds dancing on the breeze, it seemed like an enchanted meadow to her.
She looked back to the car and saw her Mummy and Daddy were stood at the back drinking from the flask. Annie didn’t want to drink, though, she wanted to play. She was excited about getting to see Disney on Ice, but she hated being cooped up in the car for hours. So this was the perfect chance for her to have a run around, which she did with glee.
She carried under her arm her favourite red ball. She had had it since she was very little, and always took it with her when they went places. She knew that other children had teddies, or dollies, or even blankets that they couldn’t do without, but for Annie it was that old red ball.
She threw the ball high up into the sky and then caught it. She did this several times, then she spotted some birds flying in the sky above her and watched them for a few moments. She always like to watch the way that the birds glided through the air. It made her wish she too had wings, that she could fly high above the towns and fields.
The birds circled overhead for a while before flying away over the woodland across the meadow. Without even thinking what she was doing, Annie began to wander across the field, following the path of the birds.
As she reached the far side of the field, it felt a little cooler. The trees from the woods shaded this area from the sun. Annie looked back. The car seemed a little far away. Mummy and Daddy had said to stay where they could see her. She could just make them out, in the distance, so surely they could see her too.
The little girl began throwing her precious red ball up in the air and catching it once more. It was a game she rarely tired of, she would do it until something else distracted her. In this case what di
stracted Annie was the sound of a twig snapping in undergrowth just beyond the tree line.
Annie turned at the sharp sound, her attention taken from the ball that was still in the air. As she looked into the trees the ball came down and hit her on the top of the head. It bounced off into the trees and disappeared in the long undergrowth.
‘No!’ Annie said to herself as her most prized possession left her sight.
She turned back towards the car. She could still just make out Mummy and Daddy, they were still stood at the back of the car, probably drinking more coffee. Annie knew that they would be mad at her if she went into the woods, but she couldn’t leave her ball. It couldn’t have gone that far, perhaps she could just nip in and get it before her parents even noticed she was gone. She decided it was her only option. She took a deep breath and walked quickly into the tree line.
The air inside the wood was much cooler, and full of smells. Some Annie recognised as the smell of plants, sweet and somewhat cloying. There was also a dank earthy smell. Annie felt goosebumps appear on her arms. She was not sure if this was from the drop in temperature or from the little niggle of fear that she felt in the pit of her stomach.
She reached the edge of the undergrowth. From the field it had not looked so long, stood next to it the grass and weeds stood nearly as tall as Annie herself. Suddenly she was unsure of where exactly the ball had entered the undergrowth. She had been heading in the general direction she had watched the ball go, but now she didn’t know where to look. She didn’t want to go into the undergrowth. She was scared that if she did, she would get lost and never find her way out.
There was a rustling sound in front of her, and Annie saw her little red ball roll out of the undergrowth. It was safe. Annie felt less scared, and more curious now. Her imagination swam with thoughts of what could have rolled the ball to her. She imagined a group of fairies, protectors of the woods, getting together and rolling the ball out to her.
‘Hello,’ she said into the undergrowth. ‘Are you fairies?’
She listened intently, but there was no reply.
‘Thank you for giving me my ball back,’ she said, Mummy had always told her to be polite.
There was a low growl from within the undergrowth. It didn’t sound like fairies, Annie thought at first, then realised that she had no idea what fairies actually sounded like. She knelt down in front of the undergrowth and tried to peer in, but the weeds and plants were growing too closely together.
Annie rolled the ball back into the undergrowth, she didn’t want to lose her ball, but she hoped it would make the fairies push it back to her again. She waited for what felt like a long time to her. She began to think that she would have to go into the undergrowth or lose her ball forever.
There was a rustling sound from within, and once more the red ball rolled out to where Annie was waiting. She laughed out loud. She had to see them, she had to know what real fairies looked like. Suddenly all fear of the undergrowth, and of her parents anger, was replaced by a desperate need to see her woodland friends. Without a moment’s hesitation the little girl crawled into the undergrowth, leaving only the little red ball lying on the ground to suggest she had ever been there.
Booth sat at the dining table in the cosy warmth of the Sampson’s kitchen. She watched as a still clearly shaken Sue Sampson made her a cup of tea.
It had the detective some time to get the shocked woman out of the shed. She had just kept standing there, staring at the smears of blood. Booth had had to take her arm and physically lead her back out into the sunlight.
Once outside the woman had sobbed on Booth’s shoulder for some time, while Booth tried to placate her by saying that the blood didn’t prove that any harm had come to her husband. Booth didn’t believe it; the blood was pretty conclusive to her. Even without having it tested, she was sure it would turn out to be the blood of Jerry Sampson.
Eventually Sue let go of her, and Holly led her back to the house. She had accepted the offer of a hot drink more for Mrs Sampson’s benefit, the poor woman was evidently on the verge of a total breakdown. Holly wondered what comfort she would be able to bring the woman. Despite the discovery of the blood, it was unlike that Inspector Pearce would want to start an investigation yet, he would put it off as long as possible.
Mrs Sampson walked over carrying the steaming mugs of tea. She placed one in front of Holly then sat down at the opposite side of the table.
‘Thank you,’ Holly said as she lifted the mug. The tea inside was still way too hot, but she forced a mouthful down. She didn’t want to stay any longer than was essential.
Mrs Sampson nodded, then put her head in her hands again.
‘What am I going to tell the children?’ she sobbed.
‘In my experience, in these sort of situations it’s best to be as vague as possible, until there are some answers,’ Holly said. ‘There’s no point upsetting them when he could arrive home at any minute. If I was you, I would just tell them he had to go away.’
Mrs Sampson looked at her.
‘In your experience?’ she said. ‘Do you have any children Detective?’
Holly instinctively put her hand on her stomach.
‘No,’ she said. ‘Not yet.’
Mrs Sampson nodded.
‘When you do, you’ll know that protecting them and making them happy is the only thing that matters.’
Holly had always been a career girl. Rising up the ranks of the police was all that had ever mattered to her. For that one end she had sacrificed so much, friends, a social life, and yes even the potential for a happy relationship with Jason. She found it hard to imagine that all of that would become second to the fluttering she was starting to feel inside her.
‘How am I supposed to tell them that their father, who they idolise, is gone?’
‘There’s nothing to suggest he’s gone,’ Holly said, knowing that she was lying to the woman.
‘What about that blood?’ Mrs Sampson said.
‘He went in there with a gun to scare off an animal,’ Holly said. ‘We don’t know that he didn’t shoot it then follow it off somewhere. It could be the animal’s blood.’
‘Why would he leave the gun?’ Mrs Sampson said. ‘It was still loaded, and I didn’t hear a gunshot.’
‘He could have reloaded the gun,’ Holly suggested. ‘It’s possible you wouldn’t have heard the shot through these thick walls. As for why he left the gun, perhaps he thought it was too dangerous to carry it around.’
Mrs Sampson shook her head.
‘But he didn’t think it would be dangerous to just leave it lying in the shed?’
Holly could see that there was no easy way she was going to placate the other woman. Mrs Sampson knew, in her heart, that something awful had happened to her husband. Holly felt terrible for trying to convince her otherwise. Pearce would say that it was part of the job. Protecting people, in his eyes, often meant protecting them from the truth. Holly couldn’t bring herself to do that. The life growing inside her told her she had to protect this woman and her children from the very real threat.
‘You’re right,’ Holly said. ‘By telling you this I’m going against the direct orders of my superiors. I agree with you, something terrible has happened to your husband. There’s a good chance he’s gone for good.’
Mrs Sampson stared at her, her jaw slack as if ready to talk but unable to find the words.
‘Something very bad is happening here, Mrs Sampson,’ Holly continued. ‘It has been for a long time, but it’s getting worse. I don’t know exactly what it is, my boss knows more than me but he’s keeping it to himself. I will do everything I can to find your husband, but I want you to do something for me.’
‘What?’ Mrs Sampson asked.
‘Pack your things, get your girls from school and get the hell away from here,’ Holly said.
Mrs Sampson shook her head.
‘I can’t just leave,’ she said. ‘The farm...’
‘Fuck the farm,’ Holly said,
interrupting her. ‘I’m telling you to protect those girls.’
The other woman looked at her, at first in utter disbelief, but then she saw something in Holly’s eyes that told her what she was saying was true.
‘How long for?’ she asked. ‘When can we come back?’
Holly thought about this, the answer she gave showed that she believed that this was going to end badly.
‘Keep watching the news,’ she said. ‘Then you’ll know when.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As they neared the centre of the woods the canopy above became more dense, making it darker. This lack of light meant that there was far less undergrowth. The plants needed light to grow, but here deep in the woods they didn’t have that. Here the ground was mainly hard dirt, with a layer of dead leaves. Karl was walking ahead of Jason and Tim, so he was the first to spot the small puddle of blood on the floor. He stopped and pointed to it.
‘Look,’ he said.
Jason and Tim followed the line of his outstretched finger, he could tell that Jason saw it first, Tim was still struggling to see, Jason joined in pointing. When the young man finally saw it, his face drained of colour once more.
‘Looks like we’re heading in the right direction.’ Jason said.
Tim suddenly appeared overcome, tears ran down his cheeks and his breathing became shallow. His hopes for his girlfriend’s safety where quickly disappearing.
‘Are you okay?’ Karl asked him. ‘You can go back if you want to. We won’t think any less of you.’
Despite the tears, and the silent sobbing Tim shook his head.
