ARSEHOLE
Now, where was I? Oh yes, I remember. Why don't I like coppers… well, as I said, it's nothing personal, just a matter of logistics, really; I'm on one side of the fence, and you bunch of tit-heads are on the other. You represent a threat to me, which is an interesting role-reversal, because usually, I'm the hunter. After you've read this journal, then I'll be the hunted, and you will have taken on my former role. Yet the irony is, I'll still be out there, hunting down Mary and Alex. So I'll be half and half; hunter and hunted. Cat and Mouse. Cat and Dog. It's all good fun though, don't you agree? It certainly passes the time of day away.
I do lots of walking; it's always been one of my favourite pastimes, and It's amazing some of the things that you can come across when you're out on a hike. For instance, I've spent many hours just wandering around Skerrington Forest over the years, it's almost like a second home to me. I never get lost in there, either, and I don't really know why… there's always been a familiarity with that forest in particular that I've never quite been able to put my finger on. I suppose that most people, when they're out in the forest and off the main walking trails, see only trees everywhere. I'm different, because I see so much more, and I remember everything, right down to the smallest detail too.
One day, I was mooching around Skerrington Forest, when I noticed, through some gaps in the trees, some vegetation that was growing in an odd manner. Instead of being more 'free-flowing', if that's the right phrase, this vegetation seemed to be clinging to something, which caused it to appear completely mishapen. I walked through the trees until I reached the anomalous bushes, and sure enough, the vegetation was actually growing all over a pretty large object, and looked like it had been for many years. Excited at my discovery, I began to pull at the vegetation to see what was underneath, and was surprised to find an old, half-rotten, wooden shed, right there, out in the middle of the forest, and for no apparent reason, either.
After an hour or two, I managed to completely uncover the door to the shed. It wasn't locked, but access to the inside was difficult, as I soon discovered that the tin roof to the old shed had completely fallen in, and was partially blocking the door. It took a lot of time to get that roof dislodged, so that I could actually get into the structure. The layman would have found nothing of interest inside the shed at all; whoever its owner had been, they'd long since stripped everything from the inside of it. But for me, it was a place of wonder; a small, decaying sanctuary, right out in the middle of nowhere. Just like the other place… the one that I'm not going to tell you about, the one where I hid two b0dies… oh, and Alfie Whitehouse's stupid cat, too.
So, mister policeman, you're probably wondering why I'm telling you all about that little shed that I found somewhere in Skerrington Forest. Well, I'm just trying to do my civic duty, I suppose, you know, 'assisting the police with their enquiries' and all of that shit. You see, when I catch up with Mary, I might, just might, take her back to that little forest pad of mine, and have a bit of a party with her, if you know what I mean… reckon you do, eh? Nudge nudge, wink wink… so, I've given you a clue as to where I could be hiding out, assuming you find this journal in time. And the reason that I've done that for you boys in blue, civic duties aside, is because, believe it or not, I'm actually not all bad. Or at least, I don't think that I am. No, there's definitely a tiny little slither of goodness deep down inside me, and that much I do know. Hopefully, I've proven that, what with this little clue that I've written down for you, but if you still don't believe me, well… that's your look-out. Honestly, I really couldn’t give a shit.
***
Detective Kevin Burrows walked slowly around Howard Trenton’s car.
“Looks like he never went to Ruthley then.” Stated Tom Grogan.
“Unless he caught a bus.” Replied Kevin.
“There’s no bus service to Ruthley from Coldsleet on a Saturday. Only on weekdays. I’ve already checked.” Pointed out Tom.
“Then he must be somewhere in Coldsleet. Perhaps he’s gone to buy supplies before carrying on to…”
“Kevin… it’s almost mid-day. Surely Howard Trenton would have come back to his car by now?” Interrupted the detective. “Trust me, Howard’s abandoned his vehicle and gone to ground.” He said.
“Which doesn’t make any sense.” Argued Kevin.
“Why doesn’t it make any sense?” Asked Tom.
“Let me put it this way… if you decided to try and disappear, and you had access to a vehicle, then wouldn’t you attempt to get as far away as possible in it? I know that I would. Why just drive your car half a mile down the road, and then abandon it? Then there’s the problem of Howard not even knowing that we’re going to arrest him.” Said Kevin, pointing out the flaws in his colleague’s logic.
“Oh, I think Howard knew that it was only a matter of time before we came knocking on his front door. Let me tell you something, Kevin… do you know what I thought, the first time I spoke to him?” Asked Tom.
“Go on.” Urged Kevin.
“I thought that he was a sneaky little fucker.” Observed Tom Grogan. “A clever, sneaky, shit-head.”
The ageing detective yawned to himself as he looked out from the car-park towards Coldsleet promenade.
“Let me tell you what else I think.” Said Tom.
“What?” Replied his colleague.
“I think that you’re partly right, in that Howard dumped his car here, and then caught a bus out of town, though, obviously, not up to Ruthley. That’s good for us, because it limits the places that he could actually run to… there’s buses running to Elman and Knighton over the weekend, but nowhere else. I’ve already been in touch with the lads up at Elman, so they’ll be on the lookout for Howard up in those two locations. Maybe we’ll hear from them soon.” Said Tom, hopefully. At that moment, his phone rang. He answered the call. Detective Kevin Burrows lit a cigarette whilst his colleague chatted on the mobile. After a few minutes, Tom Grogan had finished the call. He was wearing an extremely grave expression as he quickly walked over to Kevin.
“Bloody hell, Tom, what is it?” He asked.
“We’ve gotta get back to the Trenton’s house. Now.” Tom replied.
“Why? What’s up?” Kevin said.
“Some of the boys who’ve been searching there… they’ve found something, and we need to go back and see it for ourselves, urgently.” Tom advised.
“What is it?” Kevin wanted to know.
“It’s a journal that Howard Trenton has been keeping… this is bigger than any of us thought, Kev.” Tom informed him.
“Why? What’s in the journal?”
“From what Don just told me… I think that we’ve got a serial killer on our hands.” Answered Tom.
***
Alex Crennell's explanation to his girlfriend, Mary Broderick, as to the origin of Shark's nickname, wasn't exactly the truth. This was not to say that Alex was deliberately lying to Mary; as far as he was aware, that was the reason why the large, athletic girl with the long blonde flat-top had been bestowed her title, and he had gleaned this from various pub conversations over the past couple of years. Shark was aware of the false story, and happily went along with it; she quite enjoyed being thought of as 'a biter', makes me sound pretty ferocious, not to mention a bit pervy… and it's never a bad thing to have a reputation precede you, well, as long as it's nothing too horrible, considered Shark. She was only one of two people who knew the true origin of the 'Shark' moniker, the other being her ex-boyfriend, Mike Gudden, and he was no longer living in Coldsleet, or anywhere else, come to that, so her secret was safe.
The true reason behind Shark's unusual title lay in the young woman's heritage; born to an English mother and a Hungarian father, Shark's real name was actually Ellen Mako, the latter of which was a common surname in Hungary. It wasn't until Ellen was thirteen years old, and during an English Literature lesson at school, that a fellow pupil and all-round smart-arse called Eric Haynes pointed out the existence of a type of ma
rine animal called the 'Mako Shark', much to the delight of some of the other students in the classroom at that time. For a while afterwards, Ellen's nickname was 'Mako Shark', but this was whittled down to just 'Shark' after a few weeks. Even Ellen's parents and siblings, upon learning of the nickname, began to use it. By the time that Shark left her home, to go and live in Coldsleet with Mike Gudden, she was rarely addressed by her real name.
For a short while, Shark trudged along the Black Pathway just behind Gary Ackley, and in front of Mary Broderick and Alex Crennell, lost in her own thoughts. I can't believe that I'm finally doing the Black Pathway Trail… though I always thought that the first time I'd actually walk it would be with Mike. Shark remembered Mike Gudden for a few moments, and then tried to push his image from out of her head; she couldn't. His grinning face wouldn't go away.
"You always were a stubborn bastard, Mike," Shark whispered. Yeah, and a violent, cheating nutter, too… not that I knew that about you, when we first got together, or even after I arrived in Coldsleet to be with you. Once you'd got me on my own though, away from my home and family, gradually becoming dependent on you, it didn't take long to show your true colours, did it, Mikey? Shark remembered how the first year together with Mike had been; as far as she was concerned, he was the most kind and thoughtful man that she'd ever met, and by a mile too. They’d first begun chatting to each other online, and then Mike travelled down to Shark’s hometown where they met properly. For the next few months, Shark and Mike met up regularly, usually at weekends. Then things got serious; Mike wanted Shark to move to Coldsleet and live with him. Shark had had no doubts about committing to her new boyfriend properly, agreeing to leave the home that she still shared with her parents, and moving in with Mike. In those early days, Shark was certain that Mike Gudden was 'the one' for her. She was wrong.
Three months after they had first met, Shark moved into Mike Gudden’s place, which was a small apartment near to Coldsleet's town centre. Mike had originally tried to rent a flat in Elman, which was where he worked, but there was nothing suitable at all. This wasn’t a major problem; Mike owned a car, and the drive to and from Elman each day didn’t take up too much of his time. More problematic was Shark’s inability to find any gainful employment in the small seaside town that had clearly seen better days. Even when she looked further afield, to Elman, Knighton, Hoffen, Hingley or Salegate, there was nothing. Since leaving college, Shark had always worked, in some capacity or other; now, she was sitting around the apartment in Coldsleet, day after day, bored out of her head. And she was slowly seeing another side of Mike Gudden emerge, too.
Shark Mako knew that Mike liked a drink. It wasn’t a problem; Shark loved alcohol too. It was the norm for the couple to spend their friday and saturday evenings down at ‘The Stagecoach’, meeting up with their friends, getting smashed. That was the done thing. But then Mike started drinking during the week too, sometimes down at one of the local pubs, with his mates, but more often than not, at home. Although Shark didn’t know it at the time, Mike had grown bored with her. He was seeing another woman, an Elman girl called Lizzy Denning, who he had met at work. Shark found out about this affair from a friend, but by that time, Mike had already dumped Lizzy, and was now secretely meeting up with a thirty six year old lady from Hingley called Sue. Shark confronted Mike about his infidelity, which he admitted to. But, he advised Shark, he wasn’t going to change.
“Then I’m leaving. I’m going back home, to my parents.” Said Shark.
“Oh no your not. You belong to me.” Came Mike’s reply. And that’s when the violence began… and the threats, too. “Leave this town, and I’ll come after you, and not just you, but your parents as well. I’ll kill all of you. Your brother and sister too.” And so it went on. The cheating increased. The drinking, and violence, got worse. The threats grew darker. But then one day, Shark had fought back…
Chapter Eighteen
The Black Pathway began to even out, and ahead of the group of walkers was a huge expanse of flat, marshy land, which the trail weaved its way across. To the left of the group was a large, rocky ridge that slowly rose from the flat-lands, running parallel to the trail.
"Some people that walk the Black Pathway do it the hard way." Advised Gary, pointing up towards the ridge, its rocky surface gradually sloping upwards, climbing above the trail. "Instead of sticking to the designated path, they'll take the ridge-walk instead. It's an interesting formation, the result of a huge glacier that pushed across this area back in the ice-age. From what I hear, the ridge gets really narrow at its highest point, which is what attracts the more hardcore loonies that decide to walk up it." He went on.
"Why would anyone want to do that?" Asked Alex, who was feeling generally pissed off and tetchy.
"Because some people enjoy an element of danger, Alex." Snapped Gary. "Not everyone likes a simple, easy ride."
"Yeah, well, they're bloody stupid if you ask me." Replied Alex Crennell.
“Nobody is asking you, buddy." Retorted Gary. Here we go again, he thought to himself, we're not even half a day into this walk yet, and already Alex is starting to get stroppy and argumentative… once the going starts to get really heavy, he's gonna be a real bundle of laughs… just like the last sodding time. Gary walked on ahead of the group, whilst Mary, who had been chatting to Shark, sidled up against her boyfriend.
"Is everything okay? You seem a bit grumpy this morning." Mary asked Alex.
"Yeah, it's like I said earlier, I've got a bit of a hangover from last night, that's all." He answered, before wiping sweat from his brow.
"Okay." Said Mary, satisfied with Alex's answer. "It's beautiful up here, isn't it?" She commented. Alex looked at his surroundings.
"Yeah, it's nice." He replied, telling lies. I'd much rather be in the pub, than doing this… a nice pint in front of me together with a chicken curry and a garlic naan… ah well, once this is all over, I won't be doing this stupid walk again, thought Alex.
Alex thought about home. Dad will be off down to the boozer for his lunchtime pint, right about now. Jammy git. He’ll get back, at around three this afternoon, half-pissed, and then just spend the next few hours slumped across the settee, watching the horse racing on the televison. He might be a bit of a drunken old fart, but he’s a good bloke, my dad. He struggled to bring me and my younger brother, Davey, up, on his own, after my bitch of a mom walked out on all of us when we were little, but we never went short of a thing. Well, apart from the love of a mother, obviously. But fuck her, wherever she is. We might have needed her back then, twelve years ago, when she first left, but we certainly don’t need her now. Me, dad, Davey… we do okay. We always have done. I just wish that dad could find someone to make him happy… but he’s never really seemed interested. Maybe he’s just content with being on his own.
Mary nudged Alex with her elbow.
“Hey, are you sure that you’re okay? You seem lost in thought.” She asked. Alex smiled.
“I was just thinking about my dad. He’ll be off down to the pub now.” Replied Alex.
“I like your dad. He makes me laugh.” Commented Mary. “His jokes are a bit crude, but they’re still funny.”
“That’s because you’ve got a mind like a sewer, Mary Broderick. You come across as all prim and proper, but really, you’re just pure filth. You should get thee to a fucking nunnery.” Joked Alex.
“But I’m as pure as the driven snow!” Protested Mary, in a fake, outraged voice.
“Yeah, right… I’m just remembering what you did to me up in your bedroom on thursday night… I don’t want you to be as pure as the driven snow… I like it when you’re a whore.” Grinned Alex. Mary hit him on the arm, playfully.
“Sshh! The other’s will hear you.” She said. Alex shrugged his shoulders.
“Like they’d care.” He replied. Alex looked towards Shark and Gary, who were not too far ahead, when something, briefly, caught his eye; up on the glacial ridge. There was another hiker. He nudged Mary. “Lo
ok… there goes one of those hardcore freaks that Gary was telling us about.” Alex said, pointing towards a figure that was moving fast, high up on the rocky outcrop above them.
“They must be bloody mad.” Commented Mary.
“Yeah, they must be…” agreed Alex, watching the figure disappear out of view, behind some rocks. Up on the glacial ridge, Howard Trenton glanced quickly back at his prey, down below, walking the flat-lands. He smiled to himself, before moving on…
Gary Ackley felt the lace on his hiking boot come loose.
"Damn it." He said, quietly, before kneeling down and re-fastening his footwear. Alex and Mary strolled past him, arms around each other. He might be one of my best friends, but that girl is way too good for him, observed Gary. Still, she'll learn the hard way, once she realises just how petty, whinging, and self-pitying Alex can be. I don't think that a girl like Mary's gonna stand for that sort of behaviour for very long… Gary's thoughts were interrupted by Shark, a woman who he had first met a few months back, during a night’s binge-drinking down at 'The Stagecoach’. together with her friend, Deb Holloway. Gary had known Deb, a fellow punk, for years, ever since they were kids at school. Gary and Shark had got on well, right from the first moment that they met, but he was painfully aware that she was, according to Deb, still getting over her break-up with Mike Gudden, who had upped and left her to go and live with another woman, somewhere down south. As much as Gary had wanted to, he’d never gotten around to asking Shark out.
The Black Pathway Page 18
