“No, but I think I know of him. I’ve seen a man working in the school when the kids have gone home, and I think I may be one of the nutters to which he likes to refer.”
“How do you mean?” asked Garraway.
“Well, like you, I’ve sat on that hill and have been a million miles away in my thoughts and I have come around back to the ‘real world’ only to find his face scrunched up against the fence staring at me. We’ve never spoken and, to be honest, I think he’s a bit creepy.”
“I know what you mean,” he replied and added, “I think he’s harmless enough.”
Garraway stood up and finished the rest of his beer.
“I’ll tell you what, I need the little boy’s room, but when I come back I’ll buy us another drink and then you can tell me all about what happened to you”.
Polly nodded and smiled and Garraway went about his business.
When he returned to the table with their drinks she had gone. Typical he thought. He sat alone at the table feeling stupid after opening his heart to a complete stranger, only to find that she hadn’t kept her side of the deal. He wondered what to do next. If he went now he could get a bus home. He’d decided not to drive as he wasn’t certain how many ‘stiff drinks’ he may have needed before he told Polly what had happened to him. He was expecting to stay out late and get a taxi home. He looked out on to the pavement. It was dark outside and the lights of the traffic illuminated the street, punctuating the sulphurous glow of the street lamps. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked for any messages. He considered ringing her, but thought better of it, she probably wouldn’t pick up anyway. Just as he was considering leaving his untouched pint and head off home, Polly came bounding back in through the doors.
“Sorry about that,” she said, “fag break, I really must give these things up.”
Garraway smiled.
“No problem,” he replied, “right, it’s time you showed me yours.” He noticed her face turn bright red as she picked up a beer mat and fanned her face. “It’s hot in here,” she said.
“Don’t worry, take your time.”
“OK,” she paused and took a breath. “What happens to me, and it happens whenever I go to those woods, is different to what you see and the difference is that I see and I speak to one person.” Polly stopped and looked down at the table avoiding his eyes.
“And do you know this person?” he asked. Polly lifted her head and looked at Garraway. He could see that her eyes were beginning to water.
“As I said, take your time.” She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She tried again and her voice was shaky.
“I do know the person,” she paused again and looked him directly in the eye.
“Her name is Sarah.”
“And who is Sarah?” he asked.
“Sarah is, sorry, Sarah was, my partner.”
“Your partner?” said Garraway, suddenly realising how dated he sounded.
“Yes Mr Garraway, Sarah Greenfield was my partner, my girlfriend and we loved each other very much.”
“I am so sorry.” Garraway didn’t quite know what to say.
“Do you mind if I ask where Sarah is now?” he asked, anticipating what the answer would be.
“She’s dead,” said Polly. ”She died just over two years ago in an accident.” Polly began to cry. He reached for her hand, but she withdrew, reaching into her pocket for a tissue. Garraway said nothing, giving her time to compose herself.
Polly fanned herself with the beer mat and looked at Garraway and feigned a smile.
“Sarah was killed on Doncaster Road, not far from the woods.” She continued to dry her eyes, which was punctuated by blowing her nose.
“She was killed in a hit and run, they, I mean, you, never found who did it.” Garraway sat back in his chair and looked up at the ornate ceiling of the bar. He cast his mind back and as he did so he shut his eyes.
“Sarah Greenfield,” he said. “Yes, I remember that case.” My colleague Sergeant Brock was involved in solving it.
“That case, THAT CASE,” she said as she raised her voice, “that case was not just a case, it was my partner and my best friend and you can tell Mr Brock that he didn’t try very hard at solving ‘that case!’”
He apologised for being insensitive. Polly took a gulp of her gin and tonic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my temper, but you must understand how frustrated I feel. To be robbed of somebody you love and to know that there is someone out there who is responsible for her death, probably enjoying life, whilst my Sarah has gone.”
Garraway nodded.
“I’ll understand if you don’t wish to continue, perhaps we should do this some other time,” he suggested.
“I’ll be fine, just give me a few moments.”
“I think it’s my turn now, would you mind if I powdered my nose?” said Polly as Garraway smiled and nodded.
“And if you don’t mind, I’d love another G and T.”
Garraway returned to their table with a gin and tonic for Polly and half a shandy for him. This time Polly didn’t disappear, she came back to the table and was looking better after her visit to the ladies.
“Shall I continue?” said Polly. Garraway nodded.
“Well you can probably guess what I am going to say next, and yes it’s true. When I sit on that hill and close my eyes I can see Sarah as clear as I can see you. It used to take a while, but now she appears as clear as day and I see her immediately. It’s almost as if she is there waiting for me.”
“Is the burial mound the only place you see her?” he asked.
“Yes it is, although I do see her in my mind’s eye wherever I am, but it’s different when I’m there.” She paused for a second and then continued, “Mr Garraway, would you mind if we referred to it as ‘The Hill’ instead of the burial mound, it’s just that……” her voice trailed off.
“No, I agree, let’s just call it the hill from now on, it’s much nicer.” Polly smiled, “thank you,” she replied.
“It’s not that I just see Sarah,” she continued. “We have conversations, and I mean full on conversations. I don’t mean talking out loud, it’s as if I leave my body and join her wherever it is she has gone and we just talk, but I never have to open my mouth, does that make sense to you?”
Garraway nodded. “I think so.”
“I’m telling you Mr Garraway, that hill has something special about it. It’s a good place and I’m sure I’m not the only one who experiences the things I do.” She looked at him and added “well you’ve seen things so you must know what I mean.”
“Yes, I definitely have seen things, but not with as much clarity as you have.”
“I know, but perhaps the hill is trying get your attention, perhaps it wants to tell you something,” said Polly.
“To tell me what?”
“I don’t know, have you lost anyone close to you”? asked Polly. Garraway shook his head. Even his parents were still alive, they were getting on, but were still very much alive and kicking.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said, “why don’t we go to the hill together and see what happens?”
“We can’t do that just yet, it’s still a murder scene and the general public aren’t allowed there just yet. Our people are still looking for clues,” he paused, “I’ll tell you what, as soon as our people have finished with the hill, you and I will be the first to go there, and as you say, ‘see what happens’.”
They clinked their glasses to seal the agreement.
“And if you don’t mind Polly, I must be on my way, I have long day ahead of me.” She smiled, “yes, we’ll speak soon, and thank you for my drink.”
He turned to walk out, stopped and turned back to her. “I’m so sorry, where are my manners, would you like me to see you home?” he asked. She shook her head.
“No, but thank you for your kind offer, I only live around the corner.” Garraway nodded, smiled and walked out of the bar.
Chapter sixteen
The Incident Room
During the next few weeks
Garraway, Matthews and the rest of the team had worked tirelessly over the past few weeks. The search officers had gone over every inch of Badock’s Wood carrying out a fingertip search. The officers had taken away over eight hundred items which may have given a clue to who the killer or killers were. There had been extensive door to door enquiries which took place in all the domestic and business premises surrounding the woods. Every teacher who worked at the nearby school was interviewed. The press conference had resulted in a few members of the public coming forward with what they thought could be useful information and even Paul Jackson was allowed his beloved Toyota Previa back.
So far, all the work had amounted to very little. The best evidence the police had was found on the morning Ben and Liz had been discovered and that evidence wasn’t allowing them to move forward as they had hoped. The woods were now completely reopened and the general public were allowed full access.
Even the most decent people have a macabre side to them and this was evident by the greater than average amount of people who decided to walk their dogs, ride their bikes, and push their babies in prams in the area where Ben and Liz had been attacked. Some people subtly viewed the area by slowing down as they walked past the now famous location. Others confidently marched and stood directly where poor Ben’s body had been found and took photographs and disturbed the area. Perhaps they thought they would find missing evidence that the police had overlooked?
Many people had left flowers and cards. There was a huge card which had been placed by the Taekwondo Association of Great Britain wishing Liz a speedy recovery and Ben’s colleagues in the constabulary had left flowers and cards. Over the coming week the hill became a mass of colour as more and more beautiful flowers arrived. A photograph of the hill with a thumbnail of Ben appeared on the front page of the Bristol Post with the headline – In Memory of Ben - . This headline upset many people as it hadn’t mentioned Liz, although the story which accompanied the headline didn’t forget her and gave a glowing story of what a wonderful person she is. Many of their friends had jumped to the conclusion that they had be ‘secretly’ dating.
The team who had responsibility for the forensic post-mortem agreed that Ben’s body could be released. A date for the funeral could now be arranged. This would allow Sophie and James Walker to slowly accept that their son was not coming back. The past weeks had been an absolute hell on earth. After losing their first son, Michael, to cancer many years ago and having to go through bereavement a second time was unbearable. Both of them had been prescribed anti-depressants and tablets to help them sleep. James had been allowed long term leave from work to help him cope with the death of his son. Together they had intended to visit the woods to lay flowers and were driven there by Sophie’s brother. When the car parked near the entrance of the woods they couldn’t even confront stepping out of the car, let alone standing at the spot where their young son’s life had been taken.
They received enormous support from their friends, workmates and the church to which Sophie belonged. Every day had been spent bumbling around with no sense of purpose and on some days James could not find the strength to get out of bed.
As hard as it was for them to lose Michael, they did have time to prepare for the loss as the cancer had taken just over a year to take his life. Ben was different. One day he was here and the next he was gone. They had such high hopes for him and were so proud of what he had achieved in his short life.
Although the investigation was still on going, it would be scaled down. There was a limit to the staff available at the constabulary which meant detectives were investigating several crimes at one time and both Garraway’s and Matthew’s case load was stretching them to the limits. Unless new evidence was forthcoming it would seem that whoever had beaten Liz and whoever had murdered Ben would be free to come and go as they pleased and possibly commit more crime.
Chapter seventeen
All Saints Church
Bristol
Wednesday 30th September
The crowd who turned up for Ben Walker’s funeral on that last day of September was vast. Over four hundred people were there to pay their respects. It was anticipated that there would be a large congregation but not at this level. Luckily the church had arranged for loud speakers to be placed in the gardens so those who weren’t able to fit into the place of worship could hear the service from outside.
The congregation slowly filed into the church and quietly found somewhere to sit. The building could safely hold one hundred and fifty people so there were over two hundred and fifty people waiting outside.
The hearse pulled up at ten fifteen as the service was to commence at ten thirty. Behind were two cars carrying Ben’s family. His coffin was unloaded and carried with great solemnity by six pallbearers. Sophie and James Walker followed behind looking weak and vulnerable. Walking behind them were other members of the Walker family.
Sergeant Matthews and Detective Chief Inspector Garraway sat at the rear of the church to pay their respects. Matthews had expected to see Terry and Anne Mason, Elizabeth’s parents at the funeral. He looked around the church but could not see them.
Considering the circumstances the service had gone well. The vicar, who was a close friend of Sophie Walker, conducted a moving service, reading a dedication to Ben’s life which had been written by his parents. Ben’s father had been strong enough to get up and say a few words. There were many tears from the congregation which was made up by a majority of young people. Ben had clearly been a very popular young man.
The Walker family were no strangers to All Saints Church. Michael’s funeral was held here, Sophie and James were married here, James’ grandparents and father were buried here and now Ben’s funeral was taking place here. James never wanted to set foot in the place again. Apart from getting married, every other reason for attending a service had been miserable.
After the church service, Ben’s body was taken to a crematorium three miles away. A long slow procession of cars followed the hearse to get there.
The crematorium was smaller than the church so there were even fewer inside to hear the short service. Unfortunately there were no loud speakers this time, so a couple of hundred people waited outside in silence.
Garraway and Matthews decided not to attend the service. As they left All Saints neither of them noticed the young girl walking away from the church on the other side of the road. Had either of them seen her they may have considered talking to her. It wasn’t unheard of for a murderer to turn up at a victim’s funeral and watch from a safe distance.
Carla Price had known that Ben’s funeral was today because of the announcement in the Bristol Post. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to attend the funeral as people would have been suspicious of why a stranger who had no connection with either Ben or Liz would want to be at the funeral. She needn’t have worried as many of the congregation were strangers who just wanted to be there to show their respect.
She felt partly responsible for what happened to Ben, although the murder probably would have taken place whether she had been there or not. Carla’s quick thinking probably saved Liz’s life when she called out ‘police’ and put an end to John’s attack on her.
She knew she should turn herself over the police to put an end to all of this, but was terrified.
Next week she would be moving up to Darlington to escape what was happening in Bristol and start a new life.
She used to love living in Bristol and enjoyed hanging around with her friends, but since the murder things had changed so much. Now she hardly ever left the house, stopped seeing her friends and had little interest in anything. The only thing that occupied her enough to take her mind off the murder was art. She was a talented young artist and could turn her hand to drawing anything. Her favourite thing was pencil portraits and she had drawn many of her school friends. The pictures were so good they hung on the bedroom walls of her friend
s. But her drawings were different since the murder. They were dark and sinister. Last night she flicked thought her sketch book and saw some pictures she couldn’t remember drawing. She was completely different to the person she was a few weeks earlier.
She had returned to school at the end of the first week of the new term and although she had become introvert and kept herself to herself she’d found the distraction of school had taken her mind off what had happened.
She had been dreading seeing Charlotte and was relieved to see that she had not returned to school. Presumably Charlotte was experiencing the same trauma as she was. Some of Charlotte’s friends presumed Carla would know why she wasn’t at school. Carla just shrugged her shoulders whenever anyone asked.
Arrangements had been made for Carla to join her new school in Darlington in October. Carla’s and her father’s belongings were packed and her father had sold a lot of his things as they were downsizing to a two bedroom house.
Carla walked slowly home, contemplating how her life had turned upside down. The image of Ben Walker’s parents was fresh in her mind. How sad they looked as they walked behind their son’s coffin. Carla cried as she walked home.
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After the service at the crematorium the congregation returned to the hall next to All Saints Church to attend the wake. Normally wakes are a mix of emotions. Some are there to celebrate life, some are there to seek the comfort of others and some are there to give comfort.
Ben’s wake was different. Everyone was numb and no one knew what to say to one another. The food was left untouched and only a few had a drink in their hand.
One of Ben’s fellow PCSOs had spent a long time putting together a photo slide show made up of pictures of Ben doing all the things he’d loved. There were pictures of him with Liz, with his friends, and with his family. There were pictures of him in his police uniform and lots of him growing up. One of the pictures had been taken at Whitcroft School and if anyone looked closely enough at the blurred image of the lone school boy behind the crowd scene, they would have seen his murderer.
The Hill - Ben’s Story (Book One).: A Paranormal Murder Mystery Thriller. (Book One). Page 8
