The Soul Killer

by Ross Greenwood

  I drive up the steep slope with the caravans on the left and swing into the area for campervans and tents. I reverse into the space so we can look down the hill at the kids playing football on the field. Turning to face Barney, I see he’s awake and he grins and winds down the window. He takes a shallow breath, almost as if the goodness might be too much for him.

  ‘Hmm, sea air. I’ll be back to normal after a night here. Something smells good. Don’t tell me we’ve got sausages and chips again? Plenty of salt and vinegar?’

  We eat, as we always did, in silence. He consumes more in twenty minutes than I’ve seen him eat in the last two days. He lobs the odd chip out of the window and laughs as the ever-scavenging seagulls swoop down with glee.

  ‘We need an ice cream now,’ he says with a contented smile.

  ‘I’ll get them. You stay here.’

  ‘Okay. Shop’s probably in the same place.’ He reaches into his back pocket, and I see him flinch. His face crumples in pain, and his neck arches. Drool hangs from his mouth for three or four seconds before he recovers and wipes it away. Our eyes meet.

  ‘Must be the damn mercury in those fish I keep reading about,’ he says.

  ‘Nothing a mint Cornetto won’t sort.’

  ‘You’re right. They cure all ills.’

  My smile droops, but I raise it for him. ‘I always enjoyed our time here. I want you to know that.’

  His eyes close for a moment. ‘It sure is a special place. I brought your mum once. Even she was different here.’

  ‘So you don’t think you’ll see my mother again, you know, after? She might be waiting for you.’

  ‘I used to think she would be, if I’d been bad.’ He has a little chuckle. ‘She told me often enough. But I don’t think so now. It’s a strange concept, which makes little sense if you look at it scientifically. I’m prepared to die. I know some people have such fabulous lives that they don’t want them to end. They’re happy for the party to continue in heaven. My life hasn’t been much of a celebration. It’s been quiet and uneventful, drab even. No one will mourn my passing.’

  ‘Barney!’

  ‘Don’t be silly. That’s okay. And I’m ready now. I’m tired and worn out. Everlasting peace will be enough for me. Now come on. I’m dying for that ice cream.’

  I step from the cab with a little snort at his brave joke. Although he may well find he’ll be more famous than he thinks when all this pans out.

  ‘Wait,’ he yells. ‘I’m coming. Please, help me. One last time.’

  I walk to his side and ease him down. He’s no burden. I could carry him, but instead we link arms and shuffle along the path. We stare at the ice cream labels when we get to the shop, even though we always choose the same thing.

  I grab the cones and walk to the counter, where I recognise the woman.

  ‘Marcie?’

  ‘It’s Martha, but I get that all the time. You look familiar.’ She stares behind me. ‘Is that Barney?’

  I step back, and her smile slips away as she sees the frail old man leaning on the fridge, wracked in agony. I pass her the ten pound note and speak under my breath. ‘One last trip.’

  ‘David. It’s David, isn’t it?’

  I nod.

  ‘It’s wonderful to see you doing so well. You were such a quiet, shy lad. You’d come in here with your spending money and stare for ages at the chocolate displays. At first, I thought you were stealing things when I wasn’t looking. You were a good boy though, weren’t you? Barney said you had an unusual, erm, start in life. Anyway, those ice creams are my treat.’

  ‘Thank you. Shall I settle up for the fees now?’

  ‘How long are you staying?’

  I glance back at Barney. He’s stepped out and peers up into the sky. The sun bathes his face and removes the years. He seems childlike with his baggy trousers. ‘Just until tomorrow, I think.’

  She reaches over and folds my hands over my money. ‘No charge.’

  It takes forever for Barney to get to the bench that sits on the cliff top. It’s much closer to the edge than it used to be. It isn’t just us that the years have worn away. Barney’s thankful, though. His eyes are misty as he leans against me.

  ‘I love it here. I always have. Thanks for bringing me, son.’

  I unwrap his Cornetto and place it in his hand and we stare out into the blue beyond. I wonder if this is a good end. It’s not what I’d want.

  I was never meant to grow old like Barney. I can’t see the point. For me, like my mother, this life is only a stage. It’s a dress rehearsal before the main event. A practice, if you will, for when I’ll be really happy. I consider my life and the people in it. I’ve played well, I think, except for a few mistakes. Sacrificing my career to avoid suspicion was inspired after the net began to close. But I’ve let people get one up on me and that doesn’t seem right.

  Barney leans forward, and I only just manage to stop him falling off the bench. His ice cream lands upside down with a splat. He’s still breathing though, as I can feel it on my shoulder. But his gasps don’t have the strength of someone with any kind of future. I pull the Cornetto out of the dust and throw it with mine into the bin next to me. Standing beside Barney, I pick him up like a baby and cradle him in my arms. I’m glad I came. It’s made me see that I don’t want to die alone either.

  To save going past the shop, I stride through the long grass back towards the van. The sinking sun blinds me, but I know the way.

  I place Barney in one of the beds at the back of the van and sit opposite, contemplating my future. Claudia and I should be together, but there are clever men out to ruin things. Who’s the best player? Who plans the furthest ahead? It’s time for me to act without restraint. They will be bound by the laws they uphold, and I know them all. They are forced to play as police, whereas I can be whoever I choose.

  70

  DI Barton

  A week later, all the results from the labs were in, but so was something more dramatic. Cox had left the building with little notice, which was becoming a regular habit, so Barton had to chair the meeting. The full team were present, including the admin staff. Detectives must possess extra senses, he thought. The people present knew that the DNA test results had arrived, but defeat was in the air. Barton cleared his throat.

  ‘This is not how I would want a case to end but it will go down as case solved, even if many of us here disagree. I’m here to tell you the investigation into Arnold Stone’s remains has ended.’

  ‘Why?’ said Clavell.

  ‘Every avenue leads to Robin Rowe. The DNA gives us nothing else concrete. Alun Franco will continue his grimy life free from charges. David Whitlam’s involvement remains unclear. And the only man who’ll be judging the soul of Mr Rowe is the Lord above.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Clavell.

  ‘That is what will hit the fan, yes. An officer discovered him dead in his bed this morning at unlock after noticing a pool of blood edging out from underneath his door. A shoe contained a well-made prison weapon. They suspect someone gave it to him, as he wouldn’t have had the know-how to construct one. Whether he requested it, or was told to use it, we’ll never know.’

  ‘Wasn’t he on an ACCT book? Surely they must have been checking on him through the night?’ asked Zander.

  ‘That’s what DCI Cox asked. They only had him on one observation an hour. His duvet was covering him, so it looked like he was sleeping. The coroner’s inquest will no doubt focus on that. We didn’t advise the jail to up his obs after our visit.’

  ‘Wouldn’t the prison officer on legal visits have done that?’ asked Clavell.

  ‘I imagine there’s many people in the crosshairs.’

  Ewing put his hand up. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘We don’t have unlimited resources. There’s no reasonable chance of prosecuting anyone else for the case unless further information or evidence is forthcoming. So let’s tie up any loose ends. Get everything inputted. Two girls wandered into Huntingdon stat
ion and said they’ve been kept as sex slaves. One’s French, the other German. Many of you will be directed towards that. Clavell, you’ll leave us on Monday to join an investigation on a series of farm robberies. You are our contact if anything changes. Enjoy your last few days with us.’

  Barton smiled even though it was an effort. ‘There’s no satisfaction in a case ending this way, but you’ve all worked incredibly hard. I’d like to thank DC Clavell for his efforts, as I’m sure you all would. Clavell, you have a promising future ahead of you. Please take this present back with you to Wisbech. Your colleagues will see what a great bunch we are.’

  Barton grinned as Strange handed over the large parcel. Clavell had clearly annoyed plenty of people in the office because Barton had needed to make up the money to pay for it, but the gift was perfect and worth the extra tenner. Clavell opened it to subdued cheers. He held aloft a twenty inch plastic figurine of Darth Vader. When he pressed a button on the front, the familiar mechanical breathing of the evil villain echoed around. With another press, the figure spoke.

  ‘If you only knew the power of the dark side.’

  The whole room burst into good-natured laughter. Barton admired his team. They were a strong unit with a bright future. The last person he had eyes on was Clavell. He smiled, but Barton noted his clenched fists.

  71

  The Soul Killer

  I had a visit from carol singers last night. Bit early on the first of December, but I listened anyway. Strange how time drags when you have so little to do. It feels similar to the anticipation before a much-longed-for holiday or event. This will be a Christmas everyone remembers. I’ll make sure of that.

  I intended to drag out my standards investigation at work, but I haven’t needed to. Instead, when I showed up for my second meeting, it was cancelled due to sickness, and I haven’t heard from them since apart from a call telling me the investigation is still ongoing. It’s as though they aren’t sure what to do with me: a bit like whether to lay on a Christmas party or not. No one wants to make a decision, so they just delay until it’s forgotten.

  Barney died that night in the campervan. I drove home feeling very alone. Just as he must have felt in the years since my mother’s fall. When I got back to his house, I carried him upstairs and laid him in his bed. I considered arranging a funeral but decided not to bother just yet. It settles me, knowing he’s still with me.

  I looked in on him this morning. It made me think of the pathologist I used to work with, Mortis. I expected Barney to decompose as Stone did, but it’s different. Initially, Barney rotted fast. I burned through candles and air fresheners at an expensive rate. Then it stopped. He’s mummified and doesn’t look much worse than when he took his last breath.

  I opened Barney’s bank statements and grinned at his balance. All the direct debits have continued to tick over. No one knows he’s dead. I could live here forever. I’ve had the central heating on most days. It’s one of my few treats after how frugal my mother was with it. Because of that, Barney’s body has dried out. The heat made his remains inhospitable, even for flies and bacteria.

  It’s been a disorientating time. So much unwanted freedom, so many hours, too many thoughts. My mind rarely strays from Claudia. Sometimes, I want to race there and grab her. I wish to hold her, love her, possess her, and blow the consequences. Why can’t she see how good we are together?

  Sometimes, I see us getting old and giving each other knowing glances across candle-lit tables that only a lifetime together could explain. Other times I’m realistic and think she’s better off without me. Maybe I should get a gun and end it all. That way our youthful love would be preserved forever. Because how could it be heaven, if I were there, and she were here? I’m not waiting fifty years for her to arrive.

  I’ve decided to visit her one last time. Perhaps she’s mellowed and remembers me affectionately. Who knows how we’ll be when we talk again? Will I be able to say my goodbyes and leave her be? But no, I don’t have a life without her. There are cold grey days of rocking in my seat and shouting at the walls, dispersed by warm, sweet nights of hope where I dream we’re together again.

  The campervan starts first time and I steer it through the streets with intent. It’s as if it knows of the challenge ahead. I park up the road from Annabelle’s house and stroll towards it with my head down. There’s a strange car in the drive. I’d guess it’s a man’s vehicle, by the mud splatters up the sides. I step behind a large skip and peer around the side as the front door opens. A figure I recognise steps out with Claudia. My brain struggles to process what I’m seeing. It’s Clavell and, judging by the laughter, they are more than just acquaintances. I will kill him instantly if he kisses her, but he doesn’t. He gets back in his vehicle and leaves with a friendly wave.

  I didn’t come here for nothing, so I walk towards the door. I spot the Christmas tree in the lounge with its twinkling lights. A curtain twitches above, and I see someone flit across the window. I’m pleased it’s Claudia who answers when I knock.

  ‘David? What are you doing here?’ Her expression is open, cheeks flushed, soft lips parted. But it’s not for me. There’s only curiosity in her eyes. Did I really mean so little to her? Was our love so easily forgotten?

  ‘I was in the area and thought I’d pop by and see how you are.’

  ‘Thank you, I’m okay. I’ve kind of accepted things as they are and am trying to move on with my life. Work’s going well.’

  ‘How about Annabelle?’

  Claudia’s mouth droops. Then she looks wistfully up, steps outside and shuts the door behind her. ‘Not good. I’m trying to get her into a residential home called Achieve. I don’t think her medication is right and she’s so thin. It’s over in Bedford. The fees are astronomical, but we can afford it after selling Dad’s place. She’s got so bad that I don’t know what to do with her any more.’

  ‘That must be tough. You probably feel a bit like you’ve given up on her.’

  She cocks her head to one side. ‘You’re right. That’s exactly it.’

  We share a small glance of understanding for a moment. It reminds me of my dreams. She must still have feelings for me.

  ‘I see you’ve hung your decorations up early. Was that to try to cheer her up?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t think it through enough though, as it’s just reminded her of what happened to Dad on Christmas Day.’

  ‘Oh, yes. An honest mistake through good intentions.’

  ‘It feels like something’s coming; you know, on the big day. As if something horrible is imminent, despite all the terrible things that have already happened last year. Sorry, I’m being weird. How are you – doing well, I hope?’

  I don’t want to seem a loser, but there isn’t any point lying, seeing as Clavell’s been here. ‘Not great. I got suspended over the Malcolm thing.’

  ‘Do you reckon you’ll lose your job?’

  It’s clear that she already knows. ‘I guess that’s likely.’

  ‘That’s a shame. You loved your career.’

  We both turn to the sound of a door slamming upstairs. Claudia’s eyes moisten. ‘Sorry, I ought to go. I’m meeting a friend for lunch soon.’

  I feel dismissed. It’d better not be Clavell. I could follow her, but I’d stand out in the campervan.

  ‘Okay, have a good time.’ I step back to leave, but my body tenses. I need to ask. ‘I recognised a guy from my department leaving when I turned up. What was he doing here?’

  She blushes and stumbles over her words. ‘He’s been over a few times. That case where your neighbour died in that allotment still bugs him, despite the fact he has a lot on in Wisbech.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with you?’

  ‘I’m not sure I should say this, but he thinks you have something to do with it.’

  ‘Really, in what way?’

  She wrings her hands. ‘I don’t know. He’s been asking questions about you. Where you’re from, what you’re like.’

  ‘A
nd did you tell him?’

  ‘That’s just it, David. I don’t know where you’re from. I never met your parents, or any of your other friends. I don’t even know where you grew up. Maybe that was why it didn’t work out for us.’

  ‘I told you my parents were dead.’ As I’m talking, I hear a window above our heads open. I glance up into Annabelle’s rage-filled face. She screeches.

  ‘Fuck off from our house. You’re the devil. I’ll ring the police, you evil bastard.’

  Claudia steps back inside and gives me a commiserating look. ‘I don’t want to get into a row. Let’s leave all that in the past. I’ll box up all your gifts. They must have been expensive. I am sorry it ended this way.’

  ‘Keep them. They were for you to have, always.’

  I flinch as a porcelain ornament flies over my head. I gasp and can’t help a chuckle as another one smashes into smithereens next to my foot. Claudia smiles. God, I’ve missed it when she does that.

  ‘I hope next year’s better for us both, David,’ she says with a little wave. ‘Move on and be happy. It’s for the best that we’re over.’

  I dodge a picture frame and retreat with a bow. She may think that, but I do not. I’m starting to think she is an ungrateful liar, but I’m sensing Clavell’s hand in her change of attitude.

  72

  DI Barton

  A week later, Barton dropped the phone into the cradle with a clatter. He absent-mindedly took one of the chocolates out of his advent calendar and ate it, grimacing at the non-Cadbury’s taste.

  ‘That’s the third one of those I’ve seen you eat today,’ said Strange.

  ‘Correct. I forgot to eat yesterday’s, and I’m not in tomorrow.’

  ‘A little old for those, aren’t you?’

  ‘We bought all the kids one. Layla said she was on a diet and didn’t want it.’

  ‘What? She’s only eleven.’