by Gwyn GB
David nodded thoughtfully.
‘Bet you’d like to experience something for real though one day!’
Harrison didn’t reply. He just raised his eyebrows and tipped his head in response.
‘Harrison,’ it was John Steadman. ‘Annabelle’s downstairs in interview room three. She said she’d like to have a word if you hadn’t left.’
‘Of course.’
‘We’ve got several other female rape victims come to light on the phone footage. Joseph Goode is a nasty piece of work. He also filmed the hazing rituals. He thought that phone footage was going to give him power, it’s actually his courtroom death warrant. He won’t be getting out of a cell for a long time.’
‘Is he out of hospital?’
‘Yeah, unfortunately has to drink through a straw for a few weeks’ he beamed a smile, ‘No come back likely on that as Annabelle has made it very clear her life was in danger and he was resisting arrest, so you shouldn’t hear anything more about it. We’ve got him on suicide watch, but he’s about to be transferred to prison. We’re just waiting for his first hearing.’
Harrison nodded.
‘Been good working with you, Dr Lane. Your reputation is well deserved.’
‘Thank you, and you, too. It’s a good team here.’
Harrison smiled warmly at John and shook his outstretched hand.
‘Well, safe journey home. We’ll be back in touch when we need you for court, and I’ll keep you updated on progress.’
Harrison watched John Steadman head over to the small tea making area across the incident room. He’d only just remembered the pastrami roll his wife had sent him in with yesterday. She’d asked him for the Tupperware that morning and he’d forgotten that in the rush to capture Joseph Goode, he’d put it in the fridge for later. It might not be quite as fresh as it could have been, but he was still going to enjoy it.
Harrison slipped out of the incident room without any further fuss and went downstairs to the interview suites. Annabelle was in the room with DC Mitchell.
‘How are you doing?’ He asked her, smiling.
‘I’m fine. I just wanted to say thank you, Dr Lane. I slept last night, all night, for the first time in a year. I am so grateful.’
‘Good. You must promise to get counselling. Just one of the traumas you went through would be hard to deal with, and to have kept this all to yourself must have been mental torture. Please listen to me and accept help.’
Annabelle’s face creased, and tears welled in her eyes.
‘I will. I promise,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘My parents are picking me up later and I’m going home for a few days, but I’ll be back.’
Harrison rode home on his bike, content in the knowledge that Annabelle would get the help she needed to be able to get on with her life. He also knew that Sandra would be driving north soon to see Gemma. The ghost monk sightings had all stopped after the press conference with Martin, and Durham city and University, had once more returned to their peaceful state. Harrison had flagged several of the ghost reports to the University welfare team because he was concerned about the individual’s reasons for their reports. While there had been lots of copy cat ghosts, there were also a few cries for help from people seeking attention because they were struggling with their mental health.
As he headed down the A1, the feeling he’d experienced two days before, when he’d ridden this way, came back to him. What was going to be in that safe deposit box? He was convinced that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good for him. When he saw the signs for Harrogate, he had the urge to peel off and go back to the hospice. A part of him was repulsed at the thought, a part of him was drawn there. The rational, controlled part, and the tired part, thankfully, won.
He was relieved to get back home to his Thameside flat in the Docklands. To walk into familiar territory and shut the door. Harrison was more tired than he’d realised, and after a shower and something to eat from the freezer, he’d been grateful to fall into his own bed and sleep. Familiar smells and surroundings cocooned him, and as he relaxed the tiredness seeped from his muscles and brain.
He woke up feeling groggy and tired. He’d slept for nine and a half hours, which probably explained why. Harrison knew that the optimum sleep time was seven and a half to eight hours, and that sleep cycles came in 90 minutes. If you broke into one, it made you feel more tired. He also knew that psychological causes of tiredness were much more common than physical ones. He remembered flashes of his dreams throughout the night. Chasing someone with no face through trees, his mother hooked up to bleeping machines that were sucking the life from her, not keeping her alive. Perhaps his sleep had been light, disturbed by the stresses in his mind. Either way, he was sluggish and slow today. After a whole week of firing on all cylinders up in Durham, he took the day off.
He knew he couldn’t see Tanya tonight, so instead Harrison arranged dinner with Andrew. His friend was feeling adventurous, and they were going to try somewhere different tonight. He was looking forward to seeing a familiar face and falling back into the groove of his life.
Harrison touched base with Ryan and filled him in on how the case had ended, thanking him for his help.
‘So if that’s what university life is like, I’m glad I never went?’ Ryan’s chirpy voice made Harrison smile. He knew only too well just how difficult Ryan’s own early adult years had been. ‘I couldn’t believe the crap they were all going on about on the chat boards.’
‘I can honestly say that is not what University life is usually like,’ Harrison smiled back at Ryan. They were talking via WhatsApp. Harrison was on his sofa in front of the big windows overlooking the Thames and Ryan was in his favourite place, at his desk surrounded by screens and his mountain of snacks. ‘It’s a nice city. Maybe one day you will want to get away from that desk and come out in the field with me.’
‘Go with you? Out of the office? Boss, I know you. You like to work alone.’
Harrison knew Ryan was avoiding mentioning his agoraphobia as the reason. He’d take the hit.
‘You and I are a team, Ryan. I can figure out the stuff on the ground, but you found information that was critical to the case online. I don’t really work alone, do I?’
Ryan smiled back at his boss. He looked the same, but he wondered if his few days away had made him a bit softer.
25
Dinner with Andrew at a local Thai went better than the last time they’d been out. Andrew was sympathetic when he told him about the meeting with Freda and didn’t say, ‘told you so,’ when he said how difficult he’d found it.
At the mention of the safe deposit box, however, Andrew’s face had clouded.
‘I think you are right to be worried. You need to keep a close eye on that, there could be storm clouds coming.’
Andrew invited Harrison in for a cup of tea before he went home, and the thought of sitting in his study, surrounded by the memories of his student days, persuaded him. He was craving some security right now and Andrew was the closest thing he had to family.
When they arrived back at Andrew’s house, he managed to open the door with no problem, but the keypad on his alarm was playing up again.
Harrison watched as he repeatedly pressed the code into the pad. The beeping of the alarm was making him panic, and any second now the alarm would sound.
Harrison remembered where Andrew had put the portable keypad, and so he dived into his study and opened the top drawer of his desk. Sure enough, there it was. Just as he reached his friend with it, the system decided it had given them enough chances and they were intruders, so it belted out its alarm.
Andrew was able to quickly shut it off with the keypad, but because it was monitored, he had to get on the phone straight away to the monitoring team to give the password and confirm it was a false alarm.
While he dealt with the alarm company, Harrison took the keypad back to the desk and was about to push the drawer closed when something caught his eye. He hadn’t meant to pry, and
there was a part of him that wished he hadn’t, but the photograph seized his attention and once he’d seen it, he couldn’t un-see it. He picked it up, his heart pounding in his chest.
Harrison stared at the photograph in his hand. It was clearly well-loved. Picked up hundreds, if not thousands of times over the years. He recognised all the people in it because one of them was Andrew, one of them was him, but he was just five or six years old, and the other person was his mother. It must have been taken shortly before they went to America.
Andrew had finished his phone call and walked into the room. As Harrison looked up, he saw the panic on his friend’s face.
‘Harrison, let me explain.’
‘What is this? You’ve been lying to me. You knew my mother. After all these years. Are you working with the Mannings?’ The questions tumbled out of Harrison. He wanted to know the answer to every one of them immediately.
‘No, no, I promise you I’m not working with them, but yes, I knew your mother - and you - before we met at Kings.’
‘I can’t believe that you’ve lied to me all these years. I trusted you. I thought we were friends.’
‘I haven’t lied, just didn’t tell you everything. Your mother asked me to look out for you. I was very fond of her. She was a beautiful woman inside and out, and she loved you so much. She would have done anything to protect you.’
Harrison was reeling. The room swayed, and he reached out for the desk to steady himself. He sat in Andrew’s desk chair, leaning forward, his arms on his legs. He couldn’t even bear to look at him.
‘How did you meet?’
‘I was young, just starting out on my studies and I joined their group thinking I’d get a summer of experience, that perhaps I would be able to write my dissertation on them, but it wasn’t that easy. It was hard to get away from them.’
‘Were you there that night in Nunhead?’
‘No. I had managed to escape by then. My parents helped, they paid the Mannings off, got them to leave me alone. I didn’t lose contact with your mother, though. I begged her to escape with me, but it was complicated for her. After Nunhead, she was in a terrible state. I helped her get out of the country.’
‘You know, I’ve been searching for answers all this time. Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?’ Harrison looked up at him now.
‘I don’t have the answers you’re seeking. What happened to your mother, or what happened that night in Nunhead. I thought about telling you I knew her, but she’d begged me to keep an eye out for you and I thought you might be angry, and that if you knew you would cut ties. I valued our friendship. I didn’t want to lose it.’
‘So, do you know why we came back? Why did she bring us back and return to the Mannings? If she asked you to look out for me, then you must have kept in contact.’
Andrew nodded sadly.
‘Distance didn’t give her the freedom she had hoped for. They had influence, and they knew who your mother cared about.’
‘My grandparents?’
Andrew shook his head. ‘You and your father.’
‘You know my father?’
‘No. Your mother wouldn’t share his identity in order to protect him. I never knew him. You were born by the time I met your mother and joined the group. But the Mannings had some kind of leverage over you and him. If she didn’t do as they wanted, then they said they would use it.’
‘Why? Why go to all those lengths, what did they get out of it?’
‘Control. They were all about control.’
‘That it? Just some weird, bloody control game?’
Andrew looked away.
‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’
His friend looked Harrison in the eyes. He could see the turmoil there.
‘Tell me,’ Harrison said to him, almost growling, ‘You owe me that much.’
Andrew looked away again, scrubbing at his face with his hands.
‘Andrew. Tell me.’ Harrison commanded.
‘You. They wanted you. They saw you as their successor. They didn’t have their own children. They were grooming you to take over. They saw in you a strength that very few possessed, and an awareness of spirituality which was far beyond your years.’
Harrison wanted to be sick. His stomach churned and his mind began to creak and scream as images that hadn’t made sense before in his memory started to become clearer.
‘I’m sorry Harrison, everything I’ve done has been to try to protect you. That’s why I encouraged you not to keep chasing the Mannings. They were out of your life and now you’ve brought them back into it.’
‘I didn’t. They found me. This game of theirs has to be played to the end.’
26
Harrison barely slept. He’d returned to his flat, angry and confused. For years he had trusted in him, but his friendship with Andrew had been built on lies. He was surrounded by shadows, ghosts of the past, demons in the darkness. He felt like a tiny boat on a stormy ocean with no sign of land. In the morning he woke with a headache and was grateful it was the weekend. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything today.
There was only one man who he knew he could rely on. One man who had always been there for him and already saved his life once before. Joe.
Harrison rang America, but it was Joe’s wife, Stella, who answered. Joe was out working, tracking drug runners along the border with Mexico. The drugs cartels didn’t stop for the weekend. She promised to get him to call Harrison back, and he knew he would.
While he waited to speak to Joe, Harrison decided to get out of the flat and get some fresh air. Riding his bike gave him a sense of freedom, as though he had some control over his life. He revved the engine and roared around the streets, wishing he was on open roads back in Arizona.
He couldn’t help it. He was like a moth to the flame. No matter how much he tried to resist it, he had to keep on trying to find out. Harrison pointed his bike in the direction of Nunhead. To return to the cemetery and to the place where he knew painful memories were buried.
He walked with purpose, striding through the gates and up the approach path towards the chapel. Then he peeled left into the trees, where the sky disappeared and the undergrowth rose up around him. Past gravestone after gravestone, choking, broken, tipped, or flattened by nature, until he came to the place he was always drawn to.
The graffiti had gone, but he wasn’t there to see that this time. He pushed his way through the undergrowth he had cut weeks before, not caring about scratching and scraping himself until he was back in the clearing under the huge oak tree.
It was dark under the canopy and quiet. Even the distant drone of traffic was deadened by the foliage. He dropped to the floor and brushed the leaves and other debris away from the big flat white stone in the centre. Then he went to stand where he remembered he and his mother had stood all those years before. This time, there would be no running away from the memories. He knew they were there and today he would let them out. Face up to whatever it was that hid inside of him.
Harrison closed his eyes and reached out for his mother’s hand.
He was six years old again. In front of him was Annette Ward. She was in a white dress, lying on the stone. He liked Annette, but he was scared tonight because his mother was. Her hand shook as she held his, squeezing his fingers too tightly and making him want to pull away from her grip. His mother was staring at Annette, not taking her eyes away from her. He looked at Annette too and realised her wrists and ankles were tied.
Another image now. He was closer to Annette, close enough to see her face, and he realised there was something covering her mouth. All he could see were her eyes. Wide, staring, terrified eyes. They were staring at him. Pleading. Tears ran from their corners and down her pale skin, splashing onto the white stone.
Harrison could feel his heartbeat and breathing increase, but he wouldn’t stop. Not this time. He kept his eyes firmly closed. He had to know.
A final image now. He was still standing next
to Annette, only this time he felt Freda and Desmond next to him. They were dressed in black cloaks, and he heard chanting and murmuring all around him. It filled his head, and the smell of fear filled his nostrils. Only it wasn’t just fear he could smell. It was the iron laden smell of fresh blood.
His heart was racing. He felt as though he might pass out.
Across the clearing he saw his mother’s terrified face, staring at him, not taking her eyes away. She was looking at something in his hands. He was holding something. Something cold.
Harrison looked down and saw a large bloody knife.
In front of him Annette’s eyes were no longer staring at him, the light had gone from them. She stared only at death.
Harrison fell to his knees and vomited in the decayed debris of the clearing floor. This was what he’d been trying so hard to bury, all these years. This was why his mother had run, taken them to America. As far away as she could from the Mannings’ influence.
He murdered his friend Annette. It was him who had stabbed her, sacrificed her for whatever purpose the Mannings had deemed necessary. Six years old and he was a killer. He was everything he worked so hard to destroy.
He knelt on the ground, all energy drained from him. The bitter taste of bile in his mouth and disgust in his belly. Everything he had done with his life was the exact opposite of that night. He had spent years trying to escape the Mannings and their evil, but they’d found him again.
For an hour he stayed in that clearing, gathering his strength and trying to decide what to do. His phone rang several times, but he ignored it. He was in no fit state to talk to anyone.
Finally, Harrison gathered himself and walked away from the clearing and the stone, and out of Nunhead Cemetery.
He knew where he had to go.
Before he got on his bike he checked his phone messages. Tanya was asking what time they were going to meet and gave a list of possible places they could visit. He didn’t hesitate. He sent a text back, ‘Sorry, I can’t see you at the moment. I need to deal with something. It might be best for you if we bring an end to this now.’
