The Black Pathway

by Mark C Sutton

  “Tomorrow morning.” Lucas answered.

  “Stupid fuck-wits. They’ll be back before teatime.” Said Howard.

  “Do you reckon?” Asked Lucas, seeking some reassurance from his cousin, who had walked the Black Pathway many times before.

  “I’d put money on it. Just let them get on with it, Lucas, learn things the hard way. I fucking hate people like those two…”

  “Hey, come on now, Howard, Mary’s my sister-in-law… and you don’t hate her.” Lucas said, upset at Howard’s vitriol.

  “I don’t mean that I hate Mary… I just hate the attitude of people like her, and Alex, you know… they’ve got no fucking respect for nature… they think that…”

  “Okay, Howard, okay. Just calm down a bit.” Said Lucas, surprised at his cousin’s anger. Howard took a deep breath.

  “Sorry, Luke. It just pisses me off.” He told his cousin. Lucas gave him a bitter-sweet smile.

  “You liked Mary, didn’t you?” Lucas commented.

  “I don’t want to talk about her or Alex Crennell any more.” Came Howard Trenton’s ice-cold response.

  Lucas stepped a little further into Howard’s bedroom. Tactfully, he changed the subject from talk of Mary and Alex, and their planned hike up the Black Pathway.

  “Kay tells me that one of those coppers investigating Alfie’s death came to see you last night… to borrow your trainers?” Asked Lucas. Howard rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah… it was that Tom Grogan guy. He comes across as a bit clueless.” Sniggered Howard.

  “Kay told me that you’d accused him of thinking you were somehow responsible for Alfie’s death?” Probed Lucas. Howard rolled his eyes again.

  “I know… stupid isn’t it? It’s just that he was asking me loads of questions, earlier on, yesterday afternoon, when I was sat outside. It made me feel really uncomfortable, Luke, like he was accusing me of something.” Said Howard.

  “You know me, cousin. I’m not capable of hurting a fucking fly.” He added, for effect. Lucas came and put a hand on Howard’s shoulder.

  “Hey, I know that you wouldn’t. You know what coppers are like though, it’s what they do, asking loads of questions. Don’t worry about it. I reckon that this whole intruder thing is a load of bollocks anyway. It’ll probably just turn out that Alfie died in his sleep after all. Probably from a broken heart… it was killing him, being without his cat.” Reasoned Lucas. Howard smiled up at him. And I’m going to break your heart, Lucas, when you find out what I’m really like, when the pigs come to arrest me… I can feel it in my bones… Grogan, he knows that I murdered Alfie Whitehouse. And Howard was right, for at that exact moment, at Coldsleet Police Station, Detective Tom Grogan was sharing his suspicions with another policeman called Kevin Burrows.

  ***

  Detective Kevin Burrows was interested to know what evidence, exactly, his colleague Tom Grogan had, to suggest that Howard Trenton might be Alfie Whitehouse’s killer.

  “I’ll admit, most of it is just based on a hunch. For now.” Confessed Tom. “Well, apart from those footprints that we found. Mark my words, they came from Howard’s hi-tops, but the little bastard has gone and destroyed any evidence that might have been on them.” He growled.

  “We don’t even know the cause of Alfred Whitehouse’s death yet, Tom. Isn’t it a little bit premature to start throwing around accusations of murder?” Pointed out Kevin.

  “Maybe, but that kid, he’s involved, somehow. Okay, I admit, we don’t know that Alfie was definitely murdered… but at the very least, Howard Trenton was in that old man’s house, and at some point recently. He’d broken in there, and for some fucking reason or other, was stood in Alfie’s bathtub. I want to know the reasons why.” Argued Tom.

  “If you feel that strongly about it, haul him in, question him.” Suggested Kevin.

  “What? On a hunch? The boss wouldn’t allow it. You know how fucking paranoid he is about being sued for claims of wrongful arrest… that might change though, once the results of the autopsy are in.” Considered Tom.

  “And when are they due?” Asked Kevin, who wasn't working on the Alfred Whitehouse case.

  “Maybe late this evening, or first thing tomorrow morning,” replied Tom, “and if those results tell me that Alfie Whitehouse was murdered, then I’ll be paying that creepy little fucker Howard Trenton a visit, post haste.” Promised the detective.

  ***

  Howard Trenton ended up skipping college on that cold Friday in the middle of winter; he had far more pressing things on his mind. Instead, he left his home at just after midday, and wandered down to Coldsleet sea-front, slouching along the promenade with his hands dug deep into his coat pockets, gazing out at the ocean, lost in thought. It’s almost over. I can sense it. I always knew that I'd fuck up, sooner or later, and that’s exactly what I’ve gone and done, leaving those footprints all over Alfie Whitehouse’s home. I’m screwed. I thought that the old fucker’s death would just be put down to a heart attack… I mean, THAT’S what actually killed him, after all… okay, I caused it, but that’s not the point… I didn't think that there’d be any sort of investigation. I got complacent, too cocky. They’ll find my DNA, fibres, some shit like that, on Alfie’s clothing, from when I grabbed him, just before he snuffed it, and that’ll be the clincher. I’d never thought there’d be a sodding autopsy carried out on the miserable old cunt. I’ve got a day, two days at most, and then the piggies will be coming for me. I knew it would happen, one day, sooner or later… I’d have just rather it had been, well, later…

  Howard Trenton reached down and picked up a pebble. He threw it out, towards the sea. On the horizon, dark clouds were beginning to roll in from the ocean. Oh, come on, give me a break… I need any bad weather that’s out there to hold off until after the weekend… snow, rain, stay the fuck away, please! Mary and that stupid shit-head Alex Crennell… they HAVE to go up onto the Black Pathway. I want to have one last bit of fun tomorrow, before I get found out.

  “Is that too much to ask for?” Asked Howard, looking upwards, to the sky. “One last bit of fun. That's all I want. Kate tonight, Mary and Alex tomorrow. The three of them have fucked me over, good and proper, and now it’s my turn to balance the scales a little. Come on, God, or whatever the fuck you are… play fair, man. I’ve been wronged, I deserve some justice. It's not murder, if that’s what you’re worried about. Kate and Mary… let's face it, they’re both spiteful, shitty little whores who can’t keep their knickers on for five minutes. Alex Crennell? Well, the world will be a better place without that slimy arse-head in it. So keep the bad weather at bay, yeah? I’ll be doing your precious fucking Earth a favour, in the long run, ridding it of bad rubbish, unnecessary clutter.” Said Howard, but God wasn’t listening, and the dark clouds continued to head towards the town of Coldsleet.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Anita Morley handed Howard a mug of tea.

  “Thanks.” He said, frowning. Anita sat down next to him on the sofa.

  “What is it, Howard? You seem troubled.” She observed.

  “Oh, it’s just been one of those weeks… stuff going wrong…you know how it is sometimes. One thing piling in on top of another.” Replied Howard.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?” Asked Anita. Howard took a sip of his tea.

  “No. I can’t.” Said Howard.

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “Both… sorry, I’m not being awkward, Anita… it’s just private stuff. I’ll be okay.” Howard assured his friend, who gave him a skeptical look.

  “Hmm, will you? I can never tell with you, Howard Trenton.” She said.

  “Hey, where’s Jack today?” Asked Howard, changing the subject.

  “He’s out with my mom. She’s taken him for a bus ride into Knighton. He loves going on the bus, bless him.” Smiled Anita.

  “It’s quiet in here without him. You’ve got a gorgeous young son there, Anita. You should treasure every day that you spend with him.” Advised Howard.

>   “I do, Howard. I do.” Anita responded, as she leaned back on the sofa.

  Howard fished around in his coat pocket for a moment, and pulled out a small brown envelope.

  “Here, I want you to take this. It’s for you and the little fella.” Said Howard, and he handed the envelope to Anita.

  “What is it?” She asked, puzzled.

  “Open it and find out.” Howard replied. Anita pulled the envelope open. Inside, was a cheque. She took it from out of the envelope.

  “Howard… what do you think that you’re playing at?” Mumbled Anita, staring at the cheque in front of her.

  “Looking after my family.” Howard smiled, softly.

  “But we’re not… Howard, this cheque is for fifty thousand pounds.”

  “I know, and I want you to go down to the bank, this afternoon, and put it into your account. Do it as soon as possible. It’s yours. You and Jacks. It’ll set you up for a new life.” Suggested Howard.

  “I can’t accept this. I c…” Howard put a finger to Anita’s lips.

  “Hush. This is only what I would have left you in my will, anyway.” Howard informed Anita. She pulled away from his finger.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Howard? You’re scaring me.” Anita said, her voice shaking. Howard took her hand in his.

  “I’m not going to be around for much longer… that’s why I want you to have this money. It won’t be any good to me. Not where I’m going.”

  Anita stared down at the cheque, then back up to Howard.

  “What is it, Howard? Are you telling me that you’re dying? Is that it? Are you ill?” She asked.

  “No, I’m not dying, Anita… but very soon, I’m going to be in a lot of trouble, and I won’t be around any more.” Answered Howard. Anita shook her head.

  “This is fucking crazy…” she whispered to herself. “What are you talking about? What sort of trouble are you in?” Anita demanded to know. Howard looked at her, feeling frustrated with himself.

  “I can’t tell you. I’d love to be able to, but I can’t, and the reason that I can’t is because I have to protect you. I have to protect you and Jack.” Said Howard.

  “What? None of this makes any sense… just tell me, Howard. Tell me. What is this all about?” She asked again.

  “No.” Asserted Howard. He let go of Anita’s hand, and stood up. “All you need to know is that I love you, Jack too, and that, if I could somehow be a different person, then I would be, because that way, we could all be together… but I can’t change. I can’t stop being the person that I am… and I am not a good person, Anita. I’m not a good person at all. Say goodbye to Jack for me.” Requested Howard, before suddenly heading out of Anita’s living room and towards her front door. Anita stood up, to try and stop Howard from leaving. He glanced back at her as he opened the front door. “Just bank the cheque, enjoy your life, and forget about me.” He said, before departing. Anita Morley never saw Howard Trenton again.

  ***

  Alex Crennell stood at the bar in ‘The Stagecoach’ public house, together with his friend, Gary Ackley.

  “I need to ask you a favour.” Said Alex.

  “What?” Asked Gary, with long blue strands of hair dangling into his eyes. Alex looked up at Gary’s flattened mohican.

  “Doesn’t that get irritating?” Alex wanted to know.

  “Huh?” Gary grunted.

  “Your fucking hair, hanging all over your face like that.” Clarified Alex.

  “It’s only because I couldn't be arsed spiking it up tonight.” Argued Gary.

  “Well, I can see that, but… oh fucking hell, it doesn't matter.” Mumbled Alex.

  “So, what’s this favour that you mentioned?” Asked Gary, for a second time.

  “Look, it’s to do with Mary. We’re doing the Black Pathway Trail.” Stated Alex. Gary, who had been sipping on his pint, began to choke on it.

  “You’re fucking joking! You couldn't do it the first time!” He laughed, taking the piss.

  “Shut the fuck up, Gary.” Barked Alex Crennell, angrily.

  “I can still remember the fucking state of you after we’d come down from off Knighton Mountain… talk about a sweaty, wheezing, moaning old cunt…”

  “I said shut the fuck up!” Repeated Alex.

  “Ah, calm down. You’re such a sensitive little prick at times.” Mocked Gary. “So, you're doing the Black Pathway, huh? When? In the summer?” He wanted to know.

  “No. Tomorrow.” Alex informed his friend, which caused Gary Ackley to look at him as if he’d gone completely insane.

  Gary took a swig of his beer.

  “You are fucking joking, right?” He asked Alex, his face suddenly deadly serious.

  “Joking about what?” Mumbled Alex.

  “About doing the Black Pathway tomorrow? You’re kidding me, yeah?” Repeated Gary.

  “No, I’m not kidding you.” Confirmed Alex.

  “Have you lost your marbles, mate?” Gary said, querying Alex’s sanity.

  “No.” Shrugged Alex. “We’re doing the Black Pathway Trail, me and Mary.”

  “Yeah, I heard you the first time. Which is why I’m asking you now, have you lost the fucking plot?”

  “No, why? What’s wrong with doing the Pathway?” Questioned Alex.

  ‘Fuck, man, do you need me to spell it out for you?” Replied Gary. Alex didn't say anything. “Right, so you DO want me to spell it out for you… okay. Alex, hardly anybody walks the Black Pathway during the winter, apart from hardcore fucking ramblers and climbers… you know what I mean, real experienced guys. Man, I ain’t being funny, but you couldn’t cope with that walk during the summer, it nearly killed you…”

  “Like fuck did it!” Interrupted Alex.

  “Yeah, it did, Alex, and we both know it. So stop bull-shitting.” Gary snapped back at his friend.

  “Okay, okay. I found it difficult, I admit it. Are you happy now?” Conceded Alex. Gary simply stared back at him. “But that’s part of the problem.” Alex continued.

  “What’s part of the problem?” Gary asked, with suspicion in his eyes.

  “The fact that I found the walk difficult, and had to give up… because I forgot to mention all of that to Mary.” Admitted Alex Crennell.

  Gary Ackley rolled his eyes in disbelief.

  “What, exactly, have you told Mary, Alex?” He asked.

  “I told her that I’d completed the walk before… that I thought it was easy… a piece of piss, I think I said.” Revealed Alex.

  “Oh shit.” Sighed Gary. “What the fuck were you playing at, mate?”

  “It’s all because of that little bastard, Howard Trenton.” Spat Alex.

  “What the fuck has Howard Trenton got to do with any of this?” Asked Gary, totally confused.

  “He was sniffing around Mary, before her and I got together. He wanted Mary to do the Black Pathway with him.” Alex confided.

  “So what? He’s not with Mary, you are… what’s the fucking problem?”

  “I got pissed off, coz I found out that Howard has completed the trail loads of times… the smug little arse-hole. It made me jealous.” Admitted Alex.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ, do you realise what you sound like?” Laughed Gary.

  “Shut up.” Alex replied.

  “You’re like a big fucking kid at times, Alex, you really are, and now it's landed you in the shit. Oh, and you still haven’t told me exactly what this favour is that you want, either.” Reminded Gary. “Hang on a minute… please don’t tell me that you want me to come on the walk with you and Mary, in case you get into trouble up there?”

  “No, of course not. I was just going to ask you not to, well, you know, let on to Mary that I’ve never actually completed the trail.” Alex finally revealed.

  Gary Ackley rolled his head back, grinning up at the pub ceiling for a few seconds, before looking at his friend with amusement.

  “Bloody hell, Alex, you’re priceless, you really are. Don’t worry, man, your
secret’s safe with me.” He said.

  “Cheers.” Alex thanked him. He played with his pint glass for a moment or two, slowly spinning it around on the bar, awkwardly. “Actually, that might not be a bad idea.” He commented. Gary frowned at him.

  “What might not be a bad idea?” He asked, unsure what Alex was talking about. Alex spun the beer glass around again.

  “If you came along on the walk. What with you having already completed it.” Answered Alex, refusing to look his friend in the eye.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” Laughed Gary. Alex didn’t reply. “What? You’re being serious? You actually want me to come along with you and Mary? Up on the Black Pathway? Play fucking gooseberry for three days, whilst listening to you whinge and moan and…”

  “I won’t be whinging and moaning!” Protested Alex.

  “Yes, Alex, you will. If you thought that the Black Pathway was difficult to walk in the summer, then you have no idea what it’ll…”

  “I promise, I won’t whinge or moan… plus you wouldn’t be playing gooseberry, either. In fact, this could work out very nicely for you.” Hinted Alex.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Alex? How could traipsing along the Black Pathway in the middle of winter work out nicely for me?” Asked Gary.

  “Because it just so happens that a certain young lady, with whom you're somewhat enamoured, mentioned to me earlier that she’s always wanted to walk the trail, when I was telling her about me and Mary going up there… I reckon that she’d jump at the chance to join us.” Revealed Alex.

  “Who? Shark?” Replied Gary Ackley, a grin spreading across his face.

  “Yes, Gary. Shark.” Answered Alex Crennell.

  ***

  Kate Williams looked up at the clock on the lounge wall. It was eight thirty. He’s not coming… Alan’s stood me up, she dwelled, angrily. Kate checked her mobile phone again; there were no new text messages in her inbox. She dialled Alan’s number again, and, as it had been doing all evening, Kate’s call went straight to voicemail.