He Knows Your Secrets

by Charlie Gallagher

  She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even make a noise. She managed to twitch a nod into his hands. He pushed her head back further; the strain on her back was agony to the point where it felt like it might give.

  ‘You have work. Today. Both of you. Midday. And I got other people to talk to about you — about that bitch girlfriend of yours. And if I find out those lips have been telling me lies, they will turn ugly real quick.’

  He pushed off her. She groaned in pain and he moved away.

  ‘I can’t!’ she breathed. ‘I . . . I don’t even know where she is! What if I can’t find her?’

  The man snorted, his focus still on her mouth. ‘I have a feeling you’ll be able to find her just fine. If not, there’s a big market for solo girls. Or maybe we pair you up with someone new. Put those lips to good use maybe!’

  ‘I can’t — not without her.’

  ‘Then make sure you bring her along. For both your sakes. And don’t be late.’

  Chapter 4

  Detective Sergeant Maddie Ives gave a stretch as she stepped out of her car. The marked vehicle in front pulsed in blue while a uniform officer seemed to be pacing around with a phone held to his ear. She recognised him: PC Vince Arnold. He ended his call as she approached.

  ‘Morning, Mads!’ he grinned wildly. ‘A little late for the sunrise, I’m afraid, but I’ll do my best to make it romantic.’

  ‘I daren’t even ask what the word romantic means to you, Vince. And I’m beginning to think you’re the only officer working your section. How did I know it would be you up here?’

  Maddie was drawn to the noise of another officer approaching from the side. PC Sharon Jones. She was smiling too.

  ‘He was so keen to get here, sarge, he nearly overshot the junction! He only goes to calls that might prompt a Major Crime appearance. I reckon it’s something to do with you coming out.’ She winked over towards Vince, who laughed.

  ‘Works both way, ladies. I was thinking that DS Ives here comes out to a lot of calls where I’m already in attendance. Maybe that’s part of her decision to turn out in the first place?’

  ‘Had I known you were here, it would definitely have been a factor, Vince. You would have got Harry Blaker instead!’

  Vince’s laugh this time was somehow even louder. ‘Where is the miserable old bastard?’

  ‘Suspected suicide, would you believe.’

  ‘Another?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Two in at the same time?’

  ‘Yeah. If it wasn’t such glorious weather I would be checking to make sure it wasn’t Christmas Day.’ Maddie wasn’t sure the age-old assumption of suicides being more prevalent at that time of year was actually true; certainly she hadn’t seen any stats to back it up. Maybe turning up to a suicide on Christmas Day just stuck in the memory more. She shrugged. ‘It can happen.’

  ‘It can. You wouldn’t think people would want to go on such a beautiful day, though, Mads. Sun’s up, birds are singing . . . that view. I can’t promise a picnic basket but I have got my scran on me. You fancy going halves on a peanut butter sandwich, a KitKat and a packet of crisps? I’ll even put my coat down for the lady.’

  ‘So there we are, Vince: half a KitKat on an upturned police coat at the scene of someone’s tragic death — we found your romantic. And you couldn’t even have a shave this morning. You’re lucky it isn’t the boss up here. Is that stubble?’

  ‘Cheeky cow! This is almost a week’s growth!’

  ‘It’s a five o’clock shadow at best.’

  ‘I’ll leave you two to it, shall I?’ Sharon said over Vince’s laughter. ‘You really do sound like a married couple!’

  ‘I’d much rather you didn’t. I was hoping someone might give me an update and maybe someone with a little professionalism. So, Sharon . . . I assume I should be looking to you for that?’

  ‘I think you’re right. We had an immediate call come out as a broadcast — nearest patrol to make their way to this location. One of the residents called it in — said they had heard a car go over the cliffs at this point.’

  ‘Heard?’

  ‘Yeah. Didn’t see it. I’ve done some door knocks for those directly opposite and no one else has anything to add so far. You can see where it went over, though. There are clear tyre tracks up to it and then a chunk’s missing. The skipper’s down the bottom at the landing site.’

  ‘Skipper?’

  ‘Tim Betts. They think they’ve found the landing site at least. It’s not somewhere they can get to easily, apparently. The coastguard have scrambled their chopper to come out as part of the search, but we’re not expecting a rescue effort.’

  Maddie turned to where she could indeed see two clear tyre tracks reaching out towards where the land ran out. She walked alongside them, keeping a metre or more distance. There was no sign of the car having braked at all. The grass wasn’t long. The ground underneath would have cut up easily as a soft layer on top of the solid chalk. She looked back at the distance travelled; it was enough for a final contemplation.

  ‘Doesn’t look like they tried to change their mind. It’s a straight run, too.’ Maddie was voicing thoughts out loud. Sharon was still standing close to her, close enough to reply.

  ‘I agree. There is a mark on the bank, sort of where the road meets the grass. Could be a skid but it could just be where the car changed direction. I guess that’s something we may never know.’

  ‘Not something you should ever say to a detective . . .’ Maddie said. She was now at the edge. The damage here was obvious. The cliff had a gentle slope until right at the end, where a ledge rose up to jut out. A chunk of chalk had been gouged out, probably dragged along by the underside of the car when the front wheels ran out of ground. She stepped immediately back, making sure her colleagues knew to do the same. There was no way of telling if the rock had been weakened, and there might be another slip yet so she would rather not be standing on it if there was. There was a working-at-heights team on their way. They had all the equipment necessary to go right over. In previous cliff jumps they had performed remarkable rescues where abseiling down the face from the top was the only way.

  ‘Long way up,’ Maddie mused. This wasn’t going to be a remarkable rescue; this was a recovery at best.

  ‘Long way down, you mean.’ Vince said.

  ‘And Tim’s found the landing site, you say?’

  ‘Rough area. He could see my hi-vis when I held it up, so not exactly scientific. Looks like it went off in a straight line, though. He said he can’t see nothing down there. There’s a whole load of brambles and rocks in the way. Couldn’t have gone off at a worse place, apparently.’

  ‘Of course it couldn’t! No chance of identifying the car, then?’

  Vince shrugged. ‘The chopper might manage it but we’ve got nothing yet.’

  ‘Well, then, there’s nothing much for me to do up here. Are you two happy to do the search? Just this patch — say, twenty metres either side of the tracks for now?’

  ‘Can do, Mads. Ain’t nothing else to do.’

  ‘Thanks. And not too close to the edge. Your ego alone would be enough to trouble any cliff edge, let alone a weakened one.’

  ‘Ouch!’

  Maddie looked away from the drop and over towards the row of houses on the other side of the road. Their activity was attracting attention: there were curtains twitching and some other occupants were watching from their doorways and top-floor windows. Maddie always had to resist the urge to wave in these circumstances. She turned away instead, reminding herself that she would be doing exactly the same if it were her street. Her eyes followed the cliff edge as far away as she could see. Policy stated that the investigating officer should go to the jump site first and for good reason: nine times out of ten there would be some property to find such as discarded clothing, a mobile phone or, often, empty alcohol vessels or pill blister packs. And very rarely did someone reach a point this low in their life where they didn’t try and put their reasons
into a final assembly of words. Here, there was nothing. Death was always sad, it never seemed to hit Maddie any the less hard, but a desperate act like this and with nothing left behind? It seemed so much harder. It was as if someone just wanted to disappear without leaving a single trace of their life. No one should ever do that.

  ‘Has anyone spoken to the informant yet?’

  ‘The FCR spoke to her on the phone,’ said Vince. ‘They put quite a bit of detail on the CAD. I heard Tim on the radio sending a patrol up to speak with her but they got diverted to an immediate. It’s still pending. Shazza did a few houses but we were told not to go to the informant for now — the skipper didn’t want us tucked up when we need to be manning the scene. That one will need something written down.’

  ‘And you didn’t bring your crayons?’ Maddie couldn’t keep a straight face.

  ‘Very good, sergeant!’ Vince’s eyes twinkled with his reply.

  ‘Okay. You can tell Tim not to worry. I’ll go and speak to her. Do you know which one it was?’ Maddie scanned the row of houses.

  ‘The one with beige double doors, and deck chairs in the porch. She was a bit anti, the call-taker said. Probably interrupted her day . . .’

  Maddie fixed on the house described. The ‘porch’ was actually a long slab of flat roof jutting out from the front of the bungalow. It incorporated the front door and a strip of glass windows for making the most of the sea view.

  ‘Get the search here done for me, please and then hold tight. I’ll try and get the scene stood down as soon as possible.’

  Sharon shrugged. ‘There are worse ways to while away an early turn!’

  Maddie nodded and then set off to cross the road. She heard Vince call after her.

  ‘And it’s getting closer to lunchtime, Maddie! The offer still stands, yeah? Half a KitKat, I said. That’s two fingers each!’ Maddie looked back to find Vince laughing, while Sharon had the expression of someone who didn’t know how to react.

  ‘You just can’t help yourself, can you, Vince? There’s a fine line . . .’ His laughter stopped, but started up again when Maddie couldn’t keep a straight face herself. ‘Bastard,’ she muttered under her breath as she turned back towards the informant’s house.

  Chapter 5

  Margaret Thoroughgood bristled the moment her door opened to Maddie holding up her warrant card. Maddie hadn’t known what to expect, but a stern look and a refusal to let her enter would have been low on her list.

  ‘I just wanted to talk to you about this morning — about the report you made.’

  ‘I’ve talked all I need to about that. Some lady on the phone . . . she wanted to know the ins and outs of a duck’s posterior! A man goes over a cliff and rather than rushing to his aid you want to know when my birthday is?’

  Maddie was straining to hear the woman. Some small dog was providing a yapping soundtrack from behind her. ‘I can assure you the call-taker would have already set the wheels in motion for us to respond when she was taking your details. I apologise, though, if it seemed a bit much.’ She paused. Then, ‘Man?’

  ‘What?’ the woman snapped. She was still standing in her doorway, most of her concealed by her front door. Maddie had been able to push open the first door that led into the slim porch and it had immediately felt warmer in there than outside; stuffy, even, and the muggy air was tinged with the earthy scent of potted plants. There were two armchairs, a pair of women’s slippers neatly laid out in front of the closest.

  ‘You said a man went over the cliff. I was told you only heard the incident?’

  ‘Well, yes, I did. But it has to be a man doesn’t it? Causing all this fuss just to be selfish. Typical.’

  Maddie smiled, she hoped it might break down the frosty barrier. ‘You may well be right but unfortunately, depression can affect anyone.’

  ‘I’m sure. I told your girl on the phone all that I know. I’m afraid I can’t be any more help and have rather a lot to attend to this morning.’

  ‘Loud and clear. Could you just help me understand one detail and then I’ll leave you alone?’

  The woman huffed. She turned to look behind her where the yapping sound was still incessant. She huffed again, making it obvious that she would rather be anywhere else.

  ‘I really am rather busy.’

  ‘The fall is quite dramatic from up here. It’s a long way down and I think the vehicle would have landed some distance away and behind all that rock — and yet you say you heard it?’

  Margaret hesitated. ‘Well, I . . . I mean . . . I had heard a surging engine, you know? It was obvious what had gone on!’

  ‘Mrs Thoroughgood—’

  ‘Ms!’ the woman cut in curtly. Her nose twitched. She plainly didn’t like being challenged.

  ‘Ms Thoroughgood . . . I believe you may know a little more. Maybe you even saw what happened this morning?’

  The woman huffed and rolled her eyes, but she didn’t deny it.

  ‘I would expect that the person who went over the cliff today will be very seriously injured or worse. It will be my job to tell the family of that person just what happened. When I do, I would really like to be in full possession of all of the facts. If you can help me with that, if you can fill in any gaps, then I would really like to know. If not for me, for the family.’

  ‘It really changes nothing!’

  ‘What doesn’t, Ms Thoroughgood?’

  ‘I was sitting out in the front here, where I always have my morning coffee — as long as the weather’s good. I saw a car pull up at the roadside. Then it moved off the road, onto the grass and just kept going.’

  ‘And you said before that it surged?’ Maddie took a notebook out of her bag.

  ‘Well no, it didn’t actually. It was very slow. It sort of jerked a couple of times, like it was braking. It seemed to roll on the road then stop — then it rolled a bit more, then stopped for a little longer. Looking back, I suppose he might have been battling with himself. But when he turned onto the grass there was maybe one more stop but then it just sort of . . . well, rolled off.’ The woman suddenly pursed her lips as if she was fighting emotion. It caught Maddie out a little. ‘Would you excuse me a moment.’ The door was pushed closed.

  Maddie stepped back to let it click shut. She left it thirty seconds then tapped lightly on the glass. Another thirty seconds passed before the door opened again. This time it was pulled open fully.

  ‘Would you like to step in, perhaps?’ Ms Thoroughgood backed away and opened the door wider. The sound of the dog was now muted. A little white dog of some toy breed or other was on its hind legs behind a patio door at the rear of the house, its front paws resting on the glass, head jerking in near silence like a furious mime. Ms Thoroughgood led Maddie into her living room. She sat on the edge of an armchair and gestured at a sofa next to it.

  ‘Thank you,’ Maddie said. ‘Who’s the dog?’

  ‘Molly. She’s my Bichon Frise. And my best friend of course.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I must apologise first. You should know . . . I have seen this before. I stopped sitting out there for a long time — it’s only really been the last year or so I’ve been out again. There was a young man. I told my ex-husband to call the police immediately. We could tell he was distressed . . . the pacing — well you can just tell, can’t you? The operator on the phone, she said they were on their way but they might be a while. I thought it might help to go over and speak with him, just to see if he was okay. It was a freezing cold morning. I even made up a cup of coffee to walk over to him.’ Margaret’s harsh exterior was gradually slipping away. She seemed to have rushed a breath. ‘He took one look at me and then he was gone. Just like that.’

  ‘That must have been awful.’

  ‘From that moment I said I would never get involved again. It’s not my place. This is a well-known site for this sort of thing — right opposite me. It’s like a platform, you see, that sticks out away from the edge and there are rocks below . . .’ Another wave
of emotion seemed to pass over her. ‘But people are going to do what they are going to do. They don’t want me sticking my nose in and I certainly don’t want to be there to see it.’

  ‘But this morning, you still called us.’

  ‘I did. I guess I couldn’t help myself. I saw the car and I just knew I had to call — I mean it’s hopeless isn’t it, that someone might . . . but you have to call.’

  ‘You do. Thank you for that.’

  ‘But not for the fibbing, right?’

  ‘I won’t hold it against you, Ms Thoroughgood. In the circumstances I appreciate that you took any action at all — and I have been told far worse fibs.’

  Margaret waved her away. ‘Margaret. Please. Only people who are trying to sell me something call me Ms Thoroughgood these days.’

  ‘So tell me, Margaret . . . what did you see?’

  ‘I saw a man. It looked as though he was arguing with himself. He was agitated. The car jerked a few times like I said. I was just sitting out there with my coffee. I thought maybe he was on the phone. He was going along the road to start with. Then he just turned up onto the grass and slowly rolled forward. I was sitting out the front, in my chair there. I just about had the time to stand up as he went over. I remember seeing the back of the car lift. It sort of tipped over and that was it. Gone.’

  ‘Okay, thank you. Do you remember anything about the car at all?’

  ‘You mean like the make? I’m not good at cars — I’ve never had the slightest interest.’

  ‘Big or little, maybe a colour?’

  ‘It was white. And big. Not one of these big off-road things you see so much of now — a car, you know? Like a normal car shape. Sticky-out boot. I’m not describing it very well, am I?’

  ‘Sticky-out boot. I think I know what you mean. Maybe like a saloon car?’

  ‘A saloon car! That’s it. We had a Rover once. I remember that was a saloon and, yes, it was the same shape as that.’

  ‘But not the same car?’