He's Gone

by Alex Clare

  Over the hum of the spotlights and relentless clicking from the camera, Robyn could just hear muttering from the pit. ‘How many entrances to this place?’

  ‘Loads, Guv. The Docks area is one big rat-run, another reason the Dearmans liked it. The security fencing’s recent, something the new owners put in.’ He paused. ‘When did you come back to work in Meresbourne – two years ago? Must have been around then.’

  The little light filtering through the algae-covered skylights gave everything a green cast. Peering into the pit, Robyn tried to make sense of the shapes and realised they were bones, a skeleton, veiled in dust.

  ‘We should have brought Raver.’ Graham pulled at one of the iron sheets, testing the weight. ‘This would be his first murder and corpse wouldn’t upset his delicate tum-tum.’

  In the pit, a large, white shape shook itself. There was something alien about its appearance until the suit’s hood was pushed back and the mask removed.

  ‘Alright? You the coppers? I’m Dr Kelly Shepherd. Thanks for getting me a cracker for my first case.’ The accent was Australian, a cheery voice sounding too loud in the sombre warehouse.

  ‘Not a lot I can tell you from this now, I’m afraid. There’s no soft tissue left at all. Been dead at least eighteen months, probably longer for complete decomposition to have occurred, though I’m used to a dryer climate so I want to get Dr Drummond’s opinion. From the pelvis and the clothing traces, it’s a woman.’

  ‘Anything on cause of death?’ Graham shoved his hands into his pockets.

  ‘Well, there is one thing.’ Dr Shepherd pointed to one of the larger lumps. ‘The skull has been damaged which could be blunt force trauma. Of course, it’s possible she was struck by something falling from the roof or she fell into the pit and knocked herself out.’ He pointed to the corrugated sheets, piled at the side of the hole. ‘Except, these roofing sheets were arranged over the body to hide it.’

  Graham gestured around the emptiness. ‘It’s a perfect spot – quiet, out-of-the-way. Can you tell whether she was killed here, or just dumped?’

  ‘No idea and not sure if I’ll be able to.’ Dust flew from the bodysuit as Kelly began packing instruments. ‘Unlikely we’ll be able to isolate anything in this mess.’

  The dust was getting into Robyn’s throat making her mouth feel gritty. ‘How long before you can give us more details?’

  Kelly pushed himself up on his arms from the pit as if from a swimming pool. ‘A couple of days at least. OK, get these bagged up.’

  The crew climbed down into the pit and began probing, handing up clear plastic bags of evidence. Lorraine intercepted a bag containing a shred of cloth. ‘This shade of blue was everywhere a few winters ago. Wonder if we can find a label?’

  Robyn leaned over to Graham. ‘Have you found anything relating to Ben?’

  ‘Nothing yet. The search teams are still working.’

  Robyn glanced at her watch. ‘Bugger, I’ve got to go. The press appeal is in forty-five minutes. Lorraine, are you coming?’ She waved to Graham and walked back into the sunshine, mopping her face with a tissue, which came away stained with foundation. Outside the tape line, Janice was in discussion with a man in a hi-vis vest, open over a row of pens in the breast pocket of his shirt. He gestured towards the warehouse, then pointed at his clipboard.

  Janice touched a hand to her temple, swaying backwards on her heels. ‘Hello, Robyn. This is Mr Butterworth from the security company. He’d like to speak to the man in charge.’

  ‘Yes, I need to know when you will be clear of the site. This is most inconvenient, not to mention the damage you’re doing. I demand to know why no attempt was made to contact us.’ Butterworth had a nasal voice. Robyn tried to focus on his face, finding her attention drawn back each time to a livid boil on the man’s neck.

  ‘Mr Butterworth does not accept I tried four times to get through …’

  ‘Most unlikely as we have a twenty-four-hour operation, where all calls are answered within five rings …’

  ‘How wonderful for you to have such absolute certainties, Mr Butterworth.’ Robyn stepped to within a pace of the man, squaring her shoulders so her jacket fell open. ‘The police don’t have such luxuries. As I’m sure you can appreciate, when a body is found in suspicious circumstances, we have to carry out a full investigation.’

  It was questionable whether Butterworth had heard anything she’d said. He was staring at the outline of Robyn’s bra visible through her blouse in the strong sunlight. The gaze darted up to the necklace, then down the arms taking in the plum-coloured nails. Finally, he reached Robyn’s crotch and then jerked away, to gawp at Janice. The man’s mouth was opening without sound, his body leaning away, the clipboard now in a defensive position, held like a breast-plate under his crossed arms. Robyn leaned closer.

  ‘Now, Mr Butterworth, it’s good you’re here as we need to know a lot more about the owners and their activities. Perhaps you could give my colleague the benefit of your experience?’

  The man swallowed and nodded as Janice tapped her clipboard. Robyn continued towards her car. Confronting him had been unprofessional: she excused herself as having used up today’s ration of control on Ms Chivers.

  Lorraine slammed her door. ‘There are some tossers in the world. Are you going to give this case to Ravi, Guv? As Graham said, it would be his first murder.’

  ‘I’m not going to give it to anyone. If they’ve been in there for a couple of years, they can wait a couple more days.’ She sensed Lorraine turning to her but kept her eyes on the road. ‘I know somebody’s waiting for them somewhere but we’ve got a choice between a dry pile of bones and a living toddler. What do you think we should do?’

  13

  The station’s conference room was packed. Robyn lined up her papers to give herself another second before she had to answer, yet again, that they were ‘following a number of promising leads but no arrest was imminent.’ To her left, Melissa sat rigid in the camera flashes. She’d rejected the statement Khalid had prepared for her and read her own, invoking God’s help and emphasising how gifted Ben was. Robyn noted a few of the journalists raising eyebrows.

  Click, flash, click, flash. Khalid pointed at a young man Robyn hadn’t seen before. ‘Go ahead, Danny.’

  ‘How’s Ben’s father taking his disappearance?’

  Melissa’s face closed up. She turned to Khalid and said something Robyn couldn’t hear. Khalid nodded, then addressed the reporter. ‘Benjamin’s father is not involved in his life. We’ll take two more questions, yes?’

  ‘Is the father one of the leads you’re following up?’ This was addressed to Robyn.

  Her papers were already in a neat pile so she couldn’t even buy a second there. ‘We’re keeping an open mind at this stage.’

  ‘Final question.’ A number of hands went up. Khalid pointed. ‘Yes, Marcus.’

  ‘Why is his father no longer involved in his life?’

  Khalid held up a finger. ‘As I’m sure you appreciate, we can’t answer and I ask you to respect the family’s privacy at this difficult time …’

  There was a clamour of further questions, the word ‘father’ being repeated. Melissa was gripping the edge of the table. Robyn leant towards her. ‘There’s a lot of interest in this, unfortunately.’

  ‘You did this deliberately, didn’t you?’ Melissa took a deep breath. ‘I wouldn’t answer your questions so you put me in front of this pack of animals to force me.’

  Before Robyn could speak, Melissa stood up. The voices died away.

  ‘You wonder why I don’t like to talk about Benjamin’s father. It’s because he’s dead – dead before he even met his son. So there you are. Now please find my boy.’

  It was easier to clear the room than Robyn feared. She wanted to understand why Ms Chivers had kept back something so fundamental until now. Khalid checked a message and he announced the recording of the press-conference was already on YouTube.

  Robyn had a craving for tea.
‘Ms Chivers, thank you for coming. We do need to talk about what you just said regarding Benjamin’s father. Perhaps we could go down to the canteen?’

  Melissa picked up her briefcase. ‘I am going to the Ladies.’

  Khalid waited until the door closed. ‘So she hadn’t mentioned about the father being dead until now?’

  ‘No. And what’s odd, she’s contradicting something she told us before. I wonder why.’ Robyn rolled her neck, hearing it click. ‘How do you think it went?’

  ‘The bit about the dead dad will get a lot of space, because people love a tragedy. Whether these things help or not, the public expect them now. Is there anything coming up you need to announce?’

  Robyn shook her head. ‘Afraid not. I hope Ms Chivers is all right – she’s been a while in the loo.’

  ‘Better go and check. If there’s a journalist, she might be cornered.’

  Robyn pulled open the door to the ladies’ toilet. Both cubicles were empty – there was no one there. The disabled loo opposite was empty too. She backed out into the corridor.

  ‘Bugger her.’

  Khalid leaned out. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘She’s left. Ms Chivers has gone.’

  ‘Gone? Do you think she’s headed down to the canteen?’

  ‘I’ll check but I doubt it.’ Robyn shook her head. ‘Why doesn’t she want to talk to us?’

  She tried to define the expression on Khalid’s face while she waited for the lift. He’d been chatting to Melissa before the briefing and seemed to be getting along, one professional to another. She knew it was futile but she comforted herself the trip to the canteen was necessary, even if the cup of tea and Mars bar she picked up weren’t. The desk sergeant confirmed Melissa had left a few minutes before and had overheard her on the phone confirming she would be able to meet a client as planned.

  Back in the incident room, Ravi was staring at his screen. The picture had frozen showing Robyn with her mouth open and her too-big hands. She’d finished the chocolate in the lift: in need of more energy, she raided Janice’s desk for biscuits.

  Getting dressed, Robyn had thought how much her blouse suited her. On camera, the pattern was garish. ‘It’s not worth watching, Ravi. The only interesting bit is the last minute.’ Robyn blew on her tea. ‘Ms Chivers told the world Ben’s father is dead then walked out.’

  Ravi winced. ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘Gone back to work.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Ravi leant back in his chair, then, to Robyn’s relief, closed the video. She let go of a long breath. Things could have been much worse. Just before they’d sat down, Khalid had nudged her because one of her blouse’s buttons was undone, exposing her utilitarian sports bra.

  Robyn checked the contact list.

  ‘Good afternoon, Derby and Rutherford.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Melissa Chivers, please.’

  ‘Can I take a message?’

  ‘I really need to speak to her. It’s DI Bailley.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ms Chivers is in meetings all afternoon and cannot be disturbed. I’ll tell her you called.’

  Robyn was left holding the phone. After another minute of trying to organise her thoughts, she gave up and decided to make another trip to the canteen, listening to her messages on the way.

  The first was from Graham. Guv, still in the warehouse. Found something interesting in another pit, SOCO boys doing their stuff. Call you later.

  The second was from Tracey; Fell wanted to see her this afternoon and could offer slots at two thirty or four fifteen. Robyn sighed and stopped on the stairs. Potentially, she could be seeing Fell in half an hour. She quickened her pace to the canteen.

  As she walked back into the incident room, Ravi leaped forward. ‘Guv, Guv …’ Robyn stopped, her necklace chinking.

  Ravi recoiled, his notebook falling to the floor as he groped for a corner of the desk. Robyn wondered what had happened to make him so nervous and debated whether to ask him. She was getting sick of pussyfooting around these things but decided it was better to give him a chance to calm down. She took her time over adding sugar to the tea, had a half-hearted skim through her emails and stabilised the contents of her in-tray so it didn’t topple over. She forced herself to smile, to make sure it appeared in her voice. ‘Ready, Ravi?’

  Ravi slid into the chair beside Robyn but stayed on its far side. ‘I’ve spoken to Newcastle, Guv. There was a lot on the sex-offender, Parkes, not on the system. He worked for the local authority as a general maintenance bloke. According to his colleagues, he often went to the older residents’ houses out of hours to do jobs for them. One time, a resident had her six year-old grandson visiting. Parkes was caught with the boy in his van and he was charged with attempted abduction of a minor then somehow, he managed to convince the boy’s granny he was letting the boy play at driving.’ Ravi smacked his head with his hand. ‘Yeah, right. After they’d arrested Parkes, they did a routine search of his house and found images of kids on his computer. DI Rainer from Newcastle said he was gobsmacked when the family wouldn’t press charges when it was obvious the man was a risk.’

  Ravi ran out of breath, carried by his enthusiasm to the front of his chair, the scuffed tips of his shoes nearly touching Robyn’s. ‘Can we go out and get him, Guv?’

  ‘Good work, Ravi. Does he have any female associates?’

  Ravi’s face fell. He pulled back in the chair, turning over the page of notes as if there would be help on the other side.

  ‘He lived with his mother in Newcastle – she died just a few months before the offence.’

  ‘So no wife or girlfriend? OK, get some more details about this charity. I want to know who runs it, who else is there and whether we’ve had any trouble with them in the past, then we’ll go out and interview him.’

  ‘Right, Guv.’ Ravi dashed back to his desk. Robyn gritted her teeth and called Tracey, taking her time over dialling. She was glad to just hear the engaged tone and typed a quick email accepting the later slot. The door swung open, Graham holding it for Janice.

  ‘What a place. Feel like I’ve spent the morning in the Sahara.’ Graham took off his jacket, traces of dust from the warehouse drifting in the sunlight. Janice put down her bag and reached for her unofficial kettle.

  Robyn stood up, still restless. ‘Afternoon. What progress?’

  Graham stretched showing yellow stains under his arms. ‘Did you get my message?’

  ‘Yes, but you didn’t mention anything linked to Ben.’

  ‘No. We found a load of packaging though, six pallets, wrapping and tarpaulin.’

  ‘So what makes you think anything’s illegal? It’s a warehouse, people unpack things.’ Robyn didn’t try very hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She knew Fell’s likely reaction to the additional search costs for a false alarm would be predictable and unprintable.

  Graham smirked. ‘Because the packaging was for drugs. One of the technicians was from Maidstone and he said it was identical to what was used on a shipment they raided in their patch a couple of months ago. Someone’s got a nice little smuggling operation going.’

  Robyn sat down. ‘OK, that’s more interesting. Do you think the body and the drugs are connected?’

  ‘Not sure. Same placing, in a maintenance pit with a bit of covering. We’ve been promised an update by tomorrow.’

  Janice handed Graham a mug before catching Robyn’s longing look. With a mock sigh, she went back outside to refill the kettle. Three cups in quick succession. Robyn would have to be careful; not everywhere had a disabled loo and people might get funny about her using the ladies’ toilet.

  ‘Fine, notify whoever’s handling the investigation at Maidstone. We can’t get distracted from finding Ben …’

  The door opened as Janice returned. She plugged in the kettle and settled down at her desk.

  Robyn stepped over to her. ‘Thanks, Janice. Are you OK?’ She took the opportunity to look at the family picture on Janice’s desk which confirmed it ha
d been Josh in the image at Derby and Rutherford.

  ‘Fine thanks, Robyn.’ Janice wrinkled her lips. ‘Just a bit of a headache from the dust. I …’

  ‘Here we are, Guv.’ Ravi held a piece of paper up in front of her. ‘Jack Parkes stays at St Oswald’s, Chalk Pit Farm, Pickley. Guess who’s a trustee? Old Man Dearman.’

  Graham stuck his head around his monitor to listen.

  ‘From their website, funding comes from prison charities and a couple of churches. If the Dearmans are involved though, things have got to be dodgy.’ Ravi sounded triumphant.

  Robyn scanned the paper. It was a good excuse to delay the appointment with Fell. ‘OK, let’s go. Come on, Ravi.’ She grabbed her handbag and started for the door. ‘Janice, we’ll talk when I get back.’

  14

  Robyn started the car. Ravi lowered himself into the passenger seat, leaning into the door, keeping a big gap between them.

  ‘Right, this place is on the edge of Pickley, yes?’ There was nothing to be gained by noticing his discomfort. ‘And they work with ex-offenders. What else did you find out?’

  Ravi’s face screwed up as he recited. ‘St Oswald’s, founded fifteen years ago, run by a bloke called Paddy Hall, previous for robbery and assault. Sentenced to ten years, found God in prison and was out in four.’

  They drove past the football stadium. Next week, she’d buy her season ticket. A new strip had just been announced: she’d have to see if the club did replica shirts in a women’s fit. An approaching car flashed its headlights as they started down the Pickley road.

  ‘What the hell? We didn’t place a roadblock here, did we?’ An officer was signalling for cars to turn around. Robyn wound down her window.

  ‘You’ll have to turn around. Hello, ah, ma’am.’ The constable she’d last seen in Upper Town bent to the window. ‘Hi, Ravi. Sorry, ma’am, the road is closed for safety checks because a lorry hit Pickley Bridge.’

  ‘OK, thanks, Clyde.’ Robyn gave thanks for remembering his name. ‘Damn. We’ll have to go back through Barton.’