*
Sam Gibson had received pretty sketchy information on Rory Davenport and Jason Goldman from the respective police authorities charged with investigating their disappearance. The latter had been initially more interesting because of his petty crime record, but apart from some of his friends claiming he had always talked about living and travelling abroad, there was very little to go on. Davenport however, had frequent comments about protest activities on his record. There was nothing too sinister in the various activities listed, and he had never been arrested, but to Sam’s trained eye there was enough of a pattern of seeking out causes rather than fervently believing in them. He decided that he would check the electoral register going back a few years. People often dropped off the register if they didn’t want to be found, but surrendering the vote was another matter for narcissistic philosophers. He struck lucky. Rory Davenport changed his name by deed poll to Cameron Hastings a couple of years ago, but had continued to live his public life under his birth name, until he disappeared. This double identity, followed by the erasure of the old personality definitely warranted further investigation.
*
Forensics had verified that there were only five different types of DNA on the Priory corpse. It had taken longer than planned because they had to be exceptionally meticulous in case they missed some tiny piece of evidence to the contrary. The initial profiles were passed to Ben Adams, and the accompanying report was designated as complete until further samples were provided for comparison. Adams seized upon the potential link to Rory Davenport and asked Sam to suspend his foraging for the living version, Cameron Hastings.
“It’s a punt Sam, but I think it’s worth contacting Davenport’s parents and ask them for something which would give us his DNA. If there is a match with one of the five on this report, we would have a genuine starting point. Why he became Cameron Hastings would be the next logical step.” Sam agreed and set off for Glasgow.
*
Bradstock breezed into Renton’s office.
“What do you make of this symbol stuff Jack? Oh hello Eva, I am really glad you are able to help us out again. It looks as if detective science is entering a new era with this case. We are being led by the nose and from behind the cart. I want to review what other options we have to negotiate with this Frank character.” Before Renton could reply Eva Roberts took the question.
“I have already said to Jack that we should be very careful about how we interact with Frank. He’s been rebuffed once by us, he has then adapted – something which I feel he doesn’t like to do. He may be happy to adapt to his own altered perception, but I doubt that it extends to falling in line with others, and therefore conceding control. He is extremely decisive and proactive in prosecution of his plan. If we’re going to explore other ways of getting him to pull back from embarrassing us, we should skirt around the subject first. He initially wanted to use us, and we understandably could not afford the public to see us as complicit in any way with a killer. He has accepted that for now, and I honestly don’t think embarrassing us is a major part of his objective. He has a totally different agenda, of which our embarrassment has now become but a consequence. Let’s think very hard before we engage with him on this again. We might well be better off demonstrating that we’re just going about our job in the normal way at present.”
Renton nodded as if he had been part of this cerebral analysis.
“Yes,” said Bradstock, “you have a point. However, I don’t want to play his game to the stage where we are either driven by working to bulletins from the world’s amateur sleuths, or procrastinate while copycats emerge from the internet. Jack, bring me up to date with where the evidence takes us, and we will revisit the communication issue tomorrow.”
Renton mused over how he was going to tell Bradstock about his delegation of the evidence angle to Ben Adams. He decided on the simple way – and just blurted it out. Before Bradstock’s look of consternation turned to something even less pleasant, Eva interjected.
“This fits with what I was saying earlier. This case will of course rely upon the evidence, but getting to that evidence will in turn be at least partly reliant upon the communication aspect. At present, Frank is in control of that process. I found it refreshing that D.C.I. Renton had already split his resource between communication and evidence analysis before I knew what we were dealing with, impressive forward thinking.” Renton was amazed at the response.
“Good work Jack, it is this kind of initiative which will help the Force shed its ‘plod’ image. Bloody good work!”
Eva continued. “This brings me to motive. We haven’t had a chance to brainstorm this as yet, because there is precious little evidence to go on, and everything is happening at a whirlwind pace, courtesy of Frank. We should at least explore this before we get another missive from the Intranet or by phone.”
Bradstock nodded vigorously but said he wanted to catch up on the evidence even if it was skimpy. He excused himself and sought out Ben Adams. When he’d disappeared in the direction of forensics, Renton turned to Eva and burst out laughing. She joined in and this attracted Stephanie from her desk. Renton controlled his mirth and suggested they retire to the canteen for a coffee. “Bradstock won’t look for us there, and it’s a good place to think, instead of relying on Google for everything.”
*
The front desk put a call through to Ben Adams, telling him it was from a hiking boot stockist, asking for Sam.
“Ok, I’ll take it.” The female voice said she was responding to Sam’s request to check their sales records for size 9-11 brown ‘Atecana’ boots.
“These are highly specialised boots made for desert terrain. They are very expensive and we only stock them to orders placed. We have sold only nineteen pairs in the last three years. Two of them fall into the size bracket you are looking at. One pair was sold in 2018 – size 10, and the other was in June, earlier this year, and was size 9. I have the name for the buyer of the latter pair, as the payment was by credit card. His name is Douglas Sheering and he has bought other products from us. The other pair was a cash purchase and by a woman. Apparently she did not give her name, saying her husband was going abroad for longer than the guarantee period, so it wasn’t important.” Adams thanked her and left a note on Sam’s desk.
Having thrown around various ideas on possible motives, the trio were heading back to Renton’s office when his mobile rang to inform him the hotline LED was flashing. He got there just as it stopped. He wasn’t sure whether he should be annoyed, but he didn’t feel the least bit tetchy. Stephanie went back to her desk to catch up on the internet threads. The LED lit up again.
“An interesting debate, don’t you think? What is your leaning?”
This was unusual, he was not normally asked for his opinion by Frank. The tracer team asked Renton to drag it out as much as he could.
“Well, I don’t really have any theory about the stuff on the internet, other than there are a lot of lunatics out there. I hope you don’t create copycats in trying to get some message to certain people. That’s what this is about isn’t it?”
“Very good Inspector. I certainly do not want distraction of that kind, but neither of us can predict public reaction with any accuracy. I will be posting after we conclude this chat, I will address that aspect. However, there can be no guarantee that my influence will be sustained.”
Eva Roberts pushed a note to Renton and he put the question to Frank. “Surely if our investigation was seen to make progress that would help in getting your message across to whoever needs to hear it.”
They were already passed the fifteen second threshold and yet Frank replied.
“Indeed it would, but I am not one of those individuals for whom attention is the driver, and you should not make that error of judgement. I will not be caught; at least that is not in my plan. Perhaps we should return to the internet debate. You should have focussed on the face and the Alpha-Omega link, and look to whatever it may be linked.
Your tracer people should have had time to at least pinpoint an area from which this call is coming. Don’t neglect the discussion threads, because there are clues there, even if the people don’t know they have stumbled upon them.”
Renton was cut off, but the trace was successful. The coordinates tied up with the main car park in Chopwell Woods, a few miles west of Newcastle. They set off immediately, and were accompanied by armed response officers. They were in unmarked vehicles without klaxons. When they arrived, entering the car park at an appropriately sedate speed so as not to cause undue attention, they found only a handful of vehicles. Renton told everyone to stay put until they could assess the situation from their two cars. Adams had joined them but Bradstock had decided to make some calls to London for updates on the Intranet repairs. Refinement of the GPS coordinates was patched through to Renton, and they indicated a location just off the actual car park, in a spot where the forestry commission had done recent work. An approximately circular area where trees had been felled was indicated by Renton’s mobile display. There was no one in sight of this clearing. The armed response duo joined Renton and Adams to investigate. Their cautious approach to the exact point revealed nothing but an abandoned mobile phone, resting on one of the felled trees, amongst a pile which had been stripped and prepared for onward shipment. They pondered the next move, considering the possibility that picking it up could trigger unknown consequences. The tracer team called Renton again with the number of Frank’s unregistered mobile from which he had made the call. They backed off and conducted another short conference. They could not agree on what to do next. A few minutes passed and Renton received yet another call from the tracer team leader, who was still at the station.
“Sir, we took a further call on your behalf. It was him. He indicated that he knew we would have traced his previous call and probably had the number by now. He says if you call it from there he will answer.”
Renton got everyone to back off even further. The eerie silence was pierced by a ringtone of Land of Hope and Glory. It just kept ringing until Renton heard he was being diverted to another number. He was about to lose patience with the others, who were all talking at once, when he heard Frank. “Shh, it’s him.”
“I am not too far from where you are at present, but that is unimportant. I needed to test your methodology. I am disappointed about the armed response company you keep. I was prepared to leave some information which would prove useful if you had come alone. Perhaps you had better consider this in future.”
This call was ended within ten seconds. Adams suggested that they really should take the phone from the log, as it was important evidence. It had already been called and nothing sinister had happened, so he volunteered to retrieve it, placing it in an evidence pouch. As they returned to their vehicles they met a group of three walkers and asked if they had seen anyone in the immediate vicinity of the clearing when they had passed it earlier. One of them nodded nervously as he eyed the weapons on display.
Renton asked, “Can you describe them?” They looked at each other, and after a few moments agreed that a couple with an Alsatian dog had parked their car and taken the dog along the path toward the clearing. They also remembered several cyclists riding through that section towards the ‘drop-offs.’ Adams then asked what they meant by drop-offs. The three of them offered to explain. Renton interjected. “This is important, take your time. I need your names and contact numbers, in case we have to speak to you again.”
“Atkinson, Alan Atkinson,” one replied, “I live in Highfield.” He showed Adams his mobile number.
“My name is Terry Featherstone and I’m from Rowlands Gill.” Adams turned to the third walker.
“And you Sir?” Don Jameson asked what it was all about. Adams said they could not disclose that but it was crucial that they found the person they were seeking. He wrote down Jameson’s landline number and asked again about the cyclists. Alan Atkinson said there was a course where the bikers rode at speed over the edge of a depression and dropped quite a distance while trying to control the bike.
“It’s pretty dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. The kids are fearless, but even some of the older riders amaze me with their stunts.”
Terry Featherstone concurred. “They do twirls and all kind of crazy jumps. Good to watch if you aren’t their parents.”
They thanked the walkers and asked them to point out the car of the couple with the dog. Renton asked Adams if he and Stephanie could make their way to the drop-off course while he and Eva waited by the couple’s car. The young bikers couldn’t help them, but the people with the dog said they saw a man coming out of the clearing as they passed by on the path. He was described as wearing running kit and sunglasses. He looked about thirty-five, slim but muscular. He seemed to be taking a toilet break, and they thought no more of it. The police contingent quickly got into their cars and checked as many of the known exits from the woods as they could access, but it was to no avail. He had eluded them.
Chapter 5
Sam Gibson was already in cruise control on the stretches of the M-74 which were not congested. He had his collection of items from Rory Davenport’s mother who was now a widow. Sam wanted to get forensics on the job as soon as possible. Elsie Davenport had no idea her son had changed his name and the detective was intrigued as to why he had been leading a double life. He had used up all of his evidence pouches for the most promising items and the remaining articles were placed carefully into a cardboard box. Sam called Ben Adams to give him an approximate time of arrival, and asked him to prime Donoghue’s people for a host of samples.
*
Stephanie called everyone to her screen. “He eluded us in the woods but take a look at this.”
As the group gathered around her desk she used the zoom to set the optimum detail. There was a photo of Renton, Adams, Eva Roberts, the armed guards and herself speaking with the three walkers. This shot seemed to have been taken from the direction of the clearing. The message simply read – ‘Lost Opportunity, I had a present for you.’ The group’s fascination with just how close he must have been to their position was interrupted by a uniformed officer shouting to Renton.
“You need to come down to reception Sir; there’s been a hell of a commotion. We’ve had to lock a man up.” When he reached the cell, it was bizarre to say the least. A man had pressed the entry buzzer and said he had been asked to deliver some evidence to Inspector Renton. The desk sergeant pressed the switch to allow him entry, having alerted his two colleagues. The man had walked to the desk, deposited an envelope next to the nearest officer and turned to walk out. The desk sergeant motioned to the others to grab him, stating that he had to register whatever was in the envelope. When the man refused to comply they strong-armed him back to the counter. By this time they were very concerned about the contents of the envelope. The man did not struggle and when the officers placed a registration form in front of him he looked at it carefully. Then he put it down, picked up the envelope and tore it open. He tipped it over and a finger rolled out on to the desk. The officers reacted quickly and got him handcuffed and into an empty cell. The most bizarre element in Renton’s mind was the incredible likeness of the detainee to the ghoulish face he had been so entranced with, as it peered through the Alpha-Omega symbol.
In the flesh he looked just as terminally ill as he had on the video, even though that was a computer generated image. It was virtually impossible to get him to speak. He just kept on repeating that he had evidence for Inspector Renton. He smiled as he said this, and the multitude of facial wrinkles he already had, puckered grotesquely and seemed as if they were starting to peel the skin from his face. In other respects he looked like a fairly young man. His upright stance, healthy looking hair and athletic build confused Renton, who asked all of the officers to exit the cell.
“He may have some kind of contagious disease. We need to get a medical presence here pronto.” They sent for Greg Watson.
While t
hey waited, both Eva and Stephanie confirmed the likeness to the character in Frank’s video, and remarked how sad the man in the cell now looked. The smile had gone and he wore the expression of a little boy whose mother was about to scold him for walking on the new carpet with muddy boots. Amongst all of the heightened emotion, the finger had almost been forgotten. Renton asked the desk sergeant to return it to the envelope using a tissue, and give it to Ben Adams, with an appropriately graphic explanation.
The excitement had pretty much eclipsed the analysis of the photo of the walkers in Chopwell Woods, and the fact that the LED was flashing again.
“Shit,” said one of the tracer guys, “somebody get Renton now; it might be Frank again.”
The flashing LED was extinguished before they could get the Boss back to his office. It was almost three-quarters of an hour before it lit up again.
“You should have your present by now. You should also have met the ‘Link.’ Please treat him with respect as he has been a very loyal assistant. He is precious, even though he may seem a little slow, but at least he is at peace now. You must not press charges against him, as he was only carrying out my instructions. He would not have needed to come to the station if you had come to the woods alone. He has suffered more than enough already in his young life. Becoming one of the living dead has eased his pain. You could have gleaned some of this from the threads on the internet, but you may have been too busy. Your tracer people will be having difficulty with this call, courtesy of a neat little wireless jamming technique I have engaged. So, what now? I have not posted the photo from the woods anywhere else yet. That will happen later. Let us see where the finger points first. None of you are truly aware of how many living dead are out there. Consequently, in order to assist you with how the Alpha-Omega will be employed, I can tell you that you are in a position to save lives. The five who make up the Priory corpse were punished for good reason. The living dead are different; they are the other side of the coin and will be given release. The message will eventually become emblazoned in the minds of the public, as it should be. It is only a question of the mechanics, and in that respect you are trailing the internet community. Even if you fail, the internet will promote the message, and progress to solving what you no doubt will still see as a crime. There are no further subjects in imminent danger, unless you fail to free my friend. He is only guilty of delivering the envelope, without knowing what it contained. By all means put a tail on him, I will never see him again and he does not know how to contact me. His demons have been wiped away, and he is at peace.”